#been stressing about summer getting closer

[hannahssimblr]

“I have to say, this is an impressive body of work.”

I shift in my seat, “By impressive do you mean that it’s good, or that there’s a lot of it?”

This gets a laugh. “Both,” says the man, Paul, flicking through a sketchbook with tattooed hands, fingers stained from nicotine. I notice things like this now. Hands. I notice their lines and their bones, all their interesting details, and perhaps Paul himself could gauge this now as he pours over my figure studies where there are pages upon pages of hands, old and young, my friends, my sisters at the piano, an old woman clutching at a handrail on the train, and my own, a hundred times in different ways, blisters, plasters, hangnails and bruises from the rugby pitch.

The woman, Ida, shuffles through a stack of watercolour paintings I did last summer, mostly seascapes, the beach and the rushes, the whitewashed houses and rusted iron of the Wexford coast. Just looking at them I can recall the grit of sand under my bare feet as I warmed them on the deck of our holiday home behind my portable easel. In three months I’ll return again for one last summer, and after that I expect I’ll miss it there. 

“And you said you didn’t do a portfolio preparation year?” She says, peering over the rim of her glasses. 

“No, I’m still at school.”

“Highly unusual for a sixth year,” her eyebrows climb up her forehead, “You've clearly dedicated a lot of time to this.”

I shrug, “Yeah, I like making art, I don’t know.”

It’s difficult to tell what this woman is thinking. Everything about her is harsh, dramatic, from the sharp fringe that sits straight and neat above her brows to the slash of her mouth, thin lips, pointy chin, hard eyes, but I have to assume for the sake of my own self esteem that she doesn’t positively loathe my portfolio. She spends some time looking through my work, slowly, methodically, sometimes leaning closer to frown at something, maybe some proportion that’s off, bad composition, a clumsy attempt at ambient occlusion that doesn’t hit the mark… 

“It’s beautiful,” she says simply, and I exhale. 

“Oh look, a familiar face,” Paul holds a portrait to Ida, “That’s the girl that we were interviewing a few people before this, what was her name again?”

“Michelle,” I say, “My girlfriend.”

Paul nods, “Michelle, right! Good likeness,” and places the notebook back onto the table. Leaning back in his chair, he cracks his knuckles, “Look, Jude, there’s no two ways about it here, your work is outstanding. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a portfolio that hits every mark, every requirement and goes beyond, I mean,” he lets out a puff of air and gestures to the table, “this is nuts. And for a sixth year? Come on. This stuff would blow some of our third and fourth year college students out of the water.”

I feel like I could melt off the chair with relief, but try to suppress my utter delight so that they don’t think I’m too hungry for validation.

“Cool.”

“It’s the sensitivity,” Ida adds, “Your observation skills, your sense of weight, movement, knowledge of anatomy. It’s rare to see this kind of work from a secondary school student. Your efforts are just… so impressive.”

“And look, we know it depends on your Leaving Cert points, and yeah, that’ll be a contributing factor when it comes to acceptance, but, like,” Paul looks over the table again, tossing his hands up conclusively, “as far as I’m concerned, we’ll see you in September.”

Ida’s mouth curls into a smile, “We hope. If you choose us.”

If I choose them? Am I dreaming? How have I become the kind of person who is coveted by an art school? Surely not. Surely soon I’ll wake up and discover that this whole interview has been a product of my dreams. Too much time spent stressing out over art, the requirements, the brief... Almost certainly I’ve fallen asleep somewhere and none of this is real. 

“That’s really kind of you to say. I’m glad you liked my stuff.”

“Blown away,” says Paul, and he leaps to his feet to shake my hand like I’ve just won a prize, “all we need is a pass in the Leaving Cert, you can surely manage it.”

“Yeah, I’ll make sure I do.”

They’re smiling at me as I gather up my work, and still smiling as I give them one last sheepish wave from the door, and I realise I am still smiling too as I face the hallway of waiting students, staring at me with portfolios rested against their knees. I probably shouldn’t look too overjoyed, it might knock their confidence, so I try to look very bored instead as I pass by, though I may explode from the inside out.

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy 2010 #he's back baby #looking cuter than ever #I love hipster era Jude so much?? #and c'mon #y'all know what's coming this summer #anyone recognise Ida?

[canisalbus]

I hope you have a lovely day today. ❤️

Thank you! You too! 🧡

#I've been doing some gradual spring cleaning over past couple of weeks #feels nice I've got a lot of my closets and cabinets organized already #but today I've been just hella tired and shiftless and achey and it's already half past seven #so I guess I'll leave cleaning the freezer for tomorrow #a cool thing happened earlier this week I managed to buy a carved water buffalo skull for 20€ #they're usually pretty pricey several hundred euros at minimum #been stressing about summer getting closer #and whether I should partake in art fight this year or not #it's fun but I always end up overwhelmed #really thrilled that it's no longer freezing outside and there's so much light it's really boosting my energy levels #eagerly waiting for the bike lanes to thaw #answered #anonymous

[verdemoth]

mm goin through the horrors. the horrors are bad i can’t recommend the horrors.

#my city is about to burn !! hard to say how bad it will be. but at this point damage looks likely #the fire is very unpredictable and growing and strong winds will push it this way tomorrow #my home will probably be safe. im beside the lake. it’d have to chew through the whole city to reach me #but i’m still scared for family who live closer and all the thousands of people under evacuation orders already #half the city is on evacuation alert. state of emergency declared #my province is on fire #it gets worse every year #this summer was a series of severe alerts. fiercer thunderstorms. hotter heat waves. smoke from dozens of fires #i’m not a pessimist. but at times like this. man. its hard to see a future that gets better #☹️ #i’m so. angry that it’s gotten this bad. i feel very violent abt the people who let this happen. the ones who had a say in it . #ive also been feeling extra shit physically lately and this smoke is not helping the return of my chronic cough #half of my organs are fucked up at any given time and years of seeking answers has yet to provide anything substantial #its bad. it’ll probably end up ok and many people are having it worse but fuck it’s all bad rn. #theres nothing to do about it right now. and i’ll have to try and get some sleep. too many insomnia nights recently. #just needed to yell into the void. get out some of the stress #ghhhhhhhgggghhhhh ok. gonna go find distractions until this body gets tired enough

[parkerslatte]

Centuries Coming

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 8.7k

Warnings: none.

Summary: Y/N and Azriel have been close friends for centuries. When Azriel begins to pull away from Y/N to spend more time with Elain, a mating bond snaps.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

It had been nearly three centuries of friendship and Y/N was sure she would never get bored of her relaxing sessions with Azriel. For two weeks, he had been away on a mission while Y/N continued her intense training sessions with Cassian. They both were well and truly exhausted. 

Y/N’s room, which was situated right next to Azriel’s, was nearly silent as the two friends relaxed. The only noise emitting from the room were the soft sounds of the pages flipping in a book and an occasional content sigh. With her left hand, Y/N held the book up to her eye level, skilfully flipping the page with her thumb when it was needed. Her other hand occupied Azriel’s head, her fingers threading through his soft locks as his head rested on her stomach. The two were utterly content. 

Once Y/N reached the end of the chapter, she spared a glance at Azriel. His eyes were closed and his breathing even. Y/N stilled her hand movement in his hair for a brief moment simply to admire the shadowsinger laying before her. He was beautiful, she had always thought he was beautiful ever since she had met him. Azriel carried a sense of elegance in his features that only stone carvings held. From the smoothness of his skin to the sharpness of his jaw, everything was sculpted to perfection. 

“Why did you stop?” Azriel questioned, nudging his head against Y/N’s hand. 

Y/N let out a breathy laugh before continuing to thread her fingers through his hair. Azriel wasn’t the only one who enjoyed this. She was very much enjoying herself too– as well as enjoying the way his arms were wrapped around her waist tightly. 

“I was just lost in thought for a moment,” Y/N replied, playing her book down on the bed next to her, the hand previously holding the book coming to rest upon Azriel’s shoulder. 

Azriel opened his eyes to view the book she had set down before his gaze shifted to meet Y/N’s. “Are you tired? You normally only stop reading when you are tired.”

The smile on Y/N’s face was soft. She loved it when Azriel noticed small specific details about her. “I’m not tired, just relaxed.”

Azriel’s head lifted from Y/N’s stomach before he shuffled himself up her bed to sit against the headboard, his wings splayed out behind him.  

“What are you doing?” Y/N questioned, curling her legs closer to her body, suddenly feeling the cold now that Azriel had moved. 

“Returning the favour,” Azriel responded before gently gripping Y/N’s arm and pulling her so her head rested against his chest. 

Y/N couldn’t help herself but inhale the familiar scent that she loved so much. Nothing relaxed her more than Azriel’s scent. Whenever she was stressed or simply having a rough day, she would always seek him out and over the course of the past few months, she hadn’t even had a reason to seek him out. Y/N just wanted to be around him. 

One of Azriel’s arm wrapped around Y/N’s shoulders and tangled in her hair whilst the other wrapped around her waist, keeping her body close to his. Y/N rested her hands on his firm torso, feeling the ridges of hard muscle beneath. She blushed. 

“Oranges,” Azriel muttered, his head turning into hers. 

“What?” Y/N asked, her voice muffled by his chest. 

“Your shampoo,” Azriel said. “It smells of oranges.”

“And other citrus fruits,” Y/N responded. “I bought it when–”

“When you went to the Summer Court,” Azriel cut her off. “I remember you mentioning it a few months ago.”

Moments like this with Azriel were quite common within their friendship. The two would often find themselves wrapped up with one another. Of course it was strictly platonic, it was what it had always been. At least that is what Y/N thought it was, but over the past few years, she had begun to notice Azriel in a new light. At first she would just take note of how handsome he looked when he was at ease surrounded by his family. She would then notice how much she enjoyed being around him while it was just the two of them. Y/N never thought anything of this at first but that feeling of disappointment that overcame her when someone else walked into the room was one she couldn’t explain. 

One particular moment where Y/N realised that she was falling hard for Azriel was on her four-hundredth birthday, just a little over three years ago. He had decided to give her her present in private. It was a small charm bracelet. Whenever Azriel would go away on a mission, he would always buy her a new charm to add to it. Nothing meant more to Y/N than that bracelet. However, the bracelet was not the thing that made Y/N realise her feelings– it was the kiss on her cheek. 

As soon as his lips touched her skin, Y/N could only wish that they had connected only a few centimetres to the left. She needed to feel his lips upon hers but she could only ever imagine it. Whenever she found herself staring at his lips when he spoke or when he wasn’t looking, she always imagined the way they would feel on hers– and other parts of her body. Even now as Y/N could feel Azriel’s lips graze the top of her head, she wished she could just lean up and capture them with her own. 

Y/N could only wish that they were more than friends.

***

Many months later, Y/N found herself knocking on Azriel’s door. She hadn’t seen much of him since she had bought her own house on the outskirts of Velaris. It was a small cottage with a large stretch of land overlooking the mountains. Y/N loved the location as she could sit and stare at the stars all night long and never get bored. But one thing she did miss was Azriel. 

As she waited patiently outside of his door, she heard footsteps approaching before the door opened and Azriel came into view. It seemed as if he had just woken up as his hair was a mess and he was rubbing sleep away from his eyes– and he was shirtless too. Y/N had to refrain herself from admiring his figure. 

“Y/N,” Azriel said, genuine surprise in his tone. “I didn’t know that you would be here.”

“I decided to stop by,” Y/N replied. “I haven’t seen you much recently, and I was wondering if you wanted to take a walk with me? I have a day off from my duties and was planning to visit the bakery that had just opened in the city.”

“Oh,” Azriel said. “I was going to take Elain there later. I promised I would go with her days ago.”

Y/N tried to keep the smile on her face, though it did falter a little. Her moving out was not the only reason she hadn’t seen Azriel much, the second reason was the middle Archeron sister who had seemed to take up a large majority of Azriel’s time.When she offered to hang out or train together, he was always with the middle Archeron sister. Even when they did make plans, Azriel always cancelled at the last minute to be with Elain.  Y/N didn’t want to say that she was a jealous person but she couldn’t help but be jealous of Elain. She was beautiful and kind. Of course Y/N was both of those things too but Elain made it so effortless, even when she wasn’t trying to be beautiful and kind– she was. 

“Okay,” Y/N said, stepping back from his door. “Well maybe we could go another time. What about tomorrow? We can make a day of it.”

The shake of Azriel’s head broke her heart. “I’m out with Elain tomorrow, as well. I don’t have the time.”

His answer was blunt and straight to the point. Y/N tried not to let his answer affect her but embarrassment seemed to encase her body. 

“Oh,” Y/N said, the smile now completely gone from her face. “I hope you two have fun, then.” Her gaze fell to the floor as she took another step back from his door. 

Before she could step further away from his door, Azriel caught her wrist in his hand. Y/N’s breath hitched as his skin touched hers. It had been a while since they had touched and it still sent goosebumps down her spine. Y/N’s eyes slowly travelled up his torso, the black tattoos swirling across his chest and shoulders. As her eyes met Azriel’s, Y/N felt as if she had stopped breathing altogether. That feeling in her chest seemed to pull her right to Azriel, pulling taunt until it snapped into place. 

A mating bond. 

The feeling of Azriel’s hand on her wrist was too much for her to bear. Y/N pulled her hand out of Azriel’s gentle grasp and held it close to her chest, missing the hurt look that flashed across his features for a brief moment. He folded his arms across his chest, hiding his hands. 

“If you want to wait, we could all go together,” Azriel said, his voice unusually quiet.

Y/N, somehow finding her voice, said, “No, I think I’ll just go on my own. Enjoy your time with Elain.”

Before Azriel could get another word in, Y/N practically raced from his doorway and out of sight. Her breathing became more and more ragged. Mate. Azriel was her mate. As Y/N hurried down the hall, she collided with a hard chest and stumbled back slightly. 

“Y/N, are you okay?” Cassian asked, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Y/N frantically nodded her head. “I’m okay. I’m fine, I was just going for a walk.”

Cassian didn’t get to ask another question as Y/N continued her path, ignoring her friend even when he called out to her. 

***

That had been three days ago. Y/N had asked Rhys for a few days off from her duties. With the mating bond snapping into place for her, she hadn’t been able to think straight. All she could think of was Azriel. The bond urged her to go to him but her mind fought back. It clearly hadn’t snapped for him and Y/N didn’t want to pressure him into anything if she told him. 

For centuries the two had been friends– close friends. She had confided in him over everything because he would always sit and listen. He would hug her in her times of need and hold her until she fell asleep. Azriel was her rock. Y/N let out a sigh as she laid down on her bed. Why now? She thought. What was it about that one singular touch and conversation that made the bond snap? 

They have had many more intimate touches before. With Azriel’s hand gently caressing her cheek. His arms wrapped around her waist as he lifted her from the floor to hug her tightly. Y/N’s hands gently touching his wing as she helped heal a painful gash. All of those touches had been a lot more intimate than the simple touch of her wrist. 

Even their conversations. The two had deep conversations about insecurity, inadequacy and many other important matters. There were conversations full of playful teasing that sometimes shifted over into the more flirtatious territory. Those conversations always made Y/N’s heart beat a little faster. But the bond hadn’t snapped for any of those. It had snapped when Azriel rejected her to spend time with another female.

Y/N rolled over in her bed and pulled the blanket further around her body. She still couldn’t believe that Azriel was her mate. The way Y/N was feeling, she was sure she had never had so many emotions within her in her whole life. 

She glanced at the charm bracelet on her wrist. It was decorated with eleven charms. The newest one was just over a year old. Normally Azriel would buy her a charm whenever he was away for a long period of time or on special occasions. Of course Y/N tried to stop him, she didn’t want him to spend his own money on her. But every time she mentioned it, Azriel would simply return with a new one much more beautiful than the last. Y/N touched the last charm he had bought her. It was a simple silver heart. There wasn’t anything special about it but it was Y/N’s favourite. 

As Y/N was lost in her thoughts, loud knocking came from her door. Y/N didn’t even attempt to move from her position on her bed, even when the knocking got louder. 

“Y/N, let me in!” Cassian’s voice came from outside. 

Y/N didn’t respond even as he complained about the cold. She pulled the blanket to her chin and looked at the heart charm. When she had first received it, she was sure that was a hint toward his feelings, that he might have loved her in the way she loved him. But only a week after gifting her that charm, he began to spend almost all of his spare time with Elain. Of course Y/N tried not to let it affect her too heavily– if Azriel was happy then she would try to be happy for him. 

“Y/N, I’m coming in!” Cassian called and she heard her door unlock. 

Cassian’s heavy footsteps came up her stairs until her bedroom door was pushed open. 

“How did you get in?” Y/N questioned, her head poking out of the mass of blankets. 

“I took the spare key from Az’s room while he was out with Elain,” Cassian explained.

Y/N felt her heart drop at the mention of Azriel out with Elain once again. He always seemed to have time for her but whenever Y/N spoke to him recently, he was always in a rush to get away or on his way to see Elain.

“What’s wrong?” Cassian asked. 

The bed dipped as Cassian sat down, pulling off his boots. Y/N turned over in the bed to face him as he got comfortable under the covers. She had missed Cassian recently. Of course he had been tasked with training Nesta so she knew that he had a lot to do but she missed these moments where they could just sit and talk. 

“I am just…confused,” Y/N said, sitting up in her bed slightly. 

“Why?” Cassian asked, folding his arms across his chest. 

Y/N looked down at her bracelet. “It’s about Azriel.”

Cassian’s gaze softened. “I thought as much.”

“What?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. “How would you know?”

Cassian glanced down to the bracelet on her wrist. “I was with him when he bought that bracelet for you. He made me follow him around every single shop in Velaris to find something perfect for you.” Y/N’s smile was small but it was there as she conjured up the image in her head. “Azriel decided on that bracelet for you because he could buy you the charms to add to it and it would give him an excuse to give you presents.”

“I tried to stop him but he wouldn’t accept my refusal,” Y/N said, finally looking up at Cassian.

“He’s a stubborn bastard,” Cassian said, humour lacing his tone. “Especially when it comes to you. He loves you.”

Y/N scoffed. “He does not love me. Don’t joke about things like that, Cassian.”

“I’m not joking, Y/N,” Cassian said. “He has never told me, but I have noticed it in his actions. At every opportunity he has, he seeks you out.”

“It’s only because you and Rhys probably are not around,” said Y/N. 

Cassian chuckled. “Az has sought me out before when he was having a bad day, but he has never cuddled me until we fell asleep together in bed.”

Y/N glared at him. “How did you know about that?”

“You left your door open once and you were both asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms. I have known Az all of my life and I had never seen him look so content. Every worry, every doubt, every trouble he has seemed to evaporate when he was in your arms.”

“That still doesn’t prove that he loves me, Cass,” Y/N said. “Now, can we please not talk about this anymore. I don’t have the energy.”

Cassian studied her for a brief moment. “Why did you rush out the other day?”

“I told you, I was going on a–”

“A walk, yes, but why did you rush out? You were clearly upset and you had clearly just come from Az’s room.” Cassian commented.

Y/N sighed. “It doesn’t matter. I just asked him if he wanted to come to the bakery that had just opened in the city but he was already going with Elain.”

“And you were jealous?” Cassian asked.

“It’s not that simple,” Y/N said and fiddled with a loose thread on the blanket. “It seems that since I have moved out, I have barely seen Az. I didn’t even move far away, it's about a fifteen minute walk, even faster by flying. Everyone but him seems to make the effort and whenever I make an effort, he is always busy with Elain.” Y/N sat up in her bed, now fully facing Cassian. “Sometimes I think he is purposefully avoiding me to spend more time with Elain. And I–” 

Y/N cut herself off. She had never voiced these thoughts aloud, they had just been swirling around her head for ages.

“And you what, Y/N?” Cassian asked gently. 

“I just miss him, I miss the way things were, I wish I never fell in love with him.” Y/N could feel the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. “Falling in love with him had to be the stupidest thing I could have done–”

“Don’t say that,” Cassian interrupted. “Don’t ever say that. Azriel deserves all of the love you have given him, and you deserve all of the love he has ever given you.”

“Cassian, Azriel does not love me!” Y/N exclaimed. “If he loved me, why didn’t the damn bond snap for him too!”

Everything was still and silent as Cassian took in the words of the revelation. Y/N felt a small amount of weight lift from her shoulders but it wasn’t enough for her to get out of her bed. 

“You and Az are mates,” Cassian said slowly, processing everything. 

“The day I ran into you was the day it snapped,” Y/N said, hugging her knees to her chest. “Why now? In the many years we have known each other, why did it snap now?”

Cassian shrugged. “I couldn’t tell you. It’s possible that neither of you were ready.”

“I’m not ready now!” Y/N exclaimed. “Az and I barely see each other. He doesn’t have the time for me anymore.”

Cassian gently grasped Y/N’s clasped hands. “Y/N, listen to me when I say that you don’t have anything to worry about. Azriel loves you so much, it is so obvious to everyone around except you. He is in love with you.”

“You can’t be sure, Cass,” Y/N said. “I don’t want to tell him and fuck up out entire relationship.”

“Y/N, tell him,” Cassian said, squeezing her hands. “He deserves to know that he has a mate and he deserves to know that you love him.”

“You are sure that he loves me back?” Y/N asked, her voice quiet.

“I have never been so sure of anything else,” Cassian replied. “And it's Solstice in a few days, you could tell him then.”

“How do I tell him?” Y/N asked. “I don’t even know where I would begin.”

“That is the part I cannot help you with,” Cassian replied. “But whatever you do, I am sure that Azriel will love it. He loves anything you do.”

***

Y/N let out a breath as she walked through the halls to the living room. Her heart was beating out of her chest. She had asked Rhys where Azriel was and he had told her without question. The small box was clutched in her hands. Her plan was to give Azriel his Solstice present early and to tell him that she loved him and that they were mates. It was quite a simple plan but Y/N had to motivate herself to leave her house. She was rippled with nerves. 

“Just breathe,” she whispered to herself as she closed in on the living room. 

From down the hallway, Y/N could hear the mutter of a familiar voice and she smiled. It was Azriel’s voice. I can do this, she thought. 

As Y/N turned into the living room, her heart sank to the floor and the smile vanished from her face. Azriel and Elain stood in the centre of the room in an embrace and their lips only centimetres from one another. Azriel’s fingers were tangled in her hair as his hand rested on the back of her head and his arm was wrapped around her waist. Elain’s hands were placed on Azriel’s chest as her head was tilted up, waiting for their lips to connect.

Neither of them noticed Y/N, too focussed on one another. Tears immediately sprung to Y/N’s eyes. Azriel didn’t love her. If their passionate embrace connoted anything it was that Azriel’s infatuation resided with Elain. 

Y/N left the room before either of the two noticed, and she let the tears fall. Azriel wasn’t in love with her. Azriel was in love with Elain. 

Cassian was wrong. 

***

It was the morning of Solstice and Y/N stood in Rhys’s office waiting for him to enter. After she had left Azriel and Elain the previous night, Y/N had cried herself to sleep. If only she had never fallen for Azriel. If only she wasn’t his mate. Maybe then everything would be okay, she would happily tease Azriel about his infatuations with the middle Archeron sister and she wouldn’t be in this position now. 

But that wasn’t the case. Her mate was in love with another. Y/N should have seen the signs. Azriel had spent nearly all of his free time with Elain, the two had gotten so many chances to fall in love since they had began to spend time together. 

Rhys entered his office and sent Y/N a smile. “Why did you want a meeting this early, Y/N? It’s Solstice morning, you should be getting ready for tonight.”

“Send me on a mission,” Y/N stated. “Make sure that it is a long one.”

The smile fell from Rhys’s face. “Why?”

“I just need to get away for a while,” Y/N answered. 

As she lay in her bed deep into the night, Y/N just knew that she needed to get away from Azriel for a while. Just seeing him knowing that he was in love with someone else hurt her like nothing else. The bond only seemed to heighten the pain. Y/N wasn’t sure how Lucien was coping.

“Where is this coming from, Y/N?” Rhys asked. “You are normally the one most excited about Solstice.”

“This year I am not,” Y/N replied, her response blunt. 

Concern clouded over Rhys’s eyes. “Are you okay, Y/N? If there is anything you need to talk about you can–”

“I am fine, Rhys,” Y/N said, forcing a smile onto her face. “I just need to get away, preferably by tonight.”

Rhys studied her for a moment longer before finally nodding, knowing how stubborn Y/N could be. “Give me a few hours and I will have something sorted for you.”

“Thank you, Rhys,” Y/N replied. 

Without another word, Y/N left Rhys’s office. She thought that this space from Azriel would lift some of that weight from her shoulders, if anything the weight got heavier. 

***

Music was playing and laughter filled the room as gifts were handed out to each person. Azriel remained by the doorway, far away from everyone else– especially Elain. He was not sure what came over him the previous night but he was sure that he never wanted anything like that to happen again. Even as Elain sent him looks, Azriel only ignored them. 

“Where’s Y/N?” Feyre asked no one in particular as she piled presents up. “She has a lot of presents to open.”

Rhys’s joy suddenly vanished and Azriel stiffened. “About Y/N,” Rhys began, “she will not be joining us tonight.”

“Why?” The question left Azriel’s mouth before he could stop it.

“This morning she asked me to send her on a mission,” Rhys said. “I don’t know why but she was adamant.”

“For how long?” Cassian asked. 

“Three months,” Rhys answered.

“Three months!” Cassian exclaimed. “Why?”

Rhys shrugged. “She didn’t tell me.”

Azriel’s shadows swarmed around his shoulders anxiously. Y/N was gone and she hadn’t even told him where she was going– or why she was going. 

Cassian suddenly turned on Azriel. “Why would you let her leave? She told you everything and you let her leave after that.”

“Told me what?” Azriel questioned. 

Cassian’s face dropped. “She didn’t tell you?”

“Told me what, Cassian?” Azriel asked, his voice dropping lower.

“Look, Az, this isn’t my place to–”

“What was she going to tell me, Cassian?” Azriel snapped.

“That she is your mate, Az!” Cassian exclaimed. “She told me her plan and said that she was going to do it last night. She really didn’t tell you?”

“She’s my mate?” Azriel whispered, mainly to himself. 

The room was silent as everyone awaited Azriel’s reaction. He didn’t move, didn’t breathe. Mate, Azriel thought. Y/N is my mate. The shadows previously moving anxiously around Azriel came to a sudden halt as he pushed himself from the doorway. 

“Why did she tell you and not me?” Azriel said, trying to keep his voice level.

“That is not my place to say,” said Cassian. “You will need to talk to Y/N.”

Azriel felt everyone’s gaze fall upon him. He didn’t even register them. All he could think about was Y/N. She was his mate. How long had she known? Why didn’t she tell him? Why did she want to go on a mission? 

“Where is she?” Azriel asked, his gaze falling on Rhys. “You said you sent her on a mission. Where is she?”

“The mission was on the continent,” Rhys answered and glanced at the clock. “She asked to be gone by tonight but it wasn’t possible considering the short notice. She might still be at her house if she hasn’t left early.”

Without another word, Azriel raced out of the house, the calls and protests from his family quickly growing silent as soon as he was in the open air and shot to the skies. Azriel was sure he had never flown as fast as he had. Within a matter of minutes, he was outside of Y/N’s house. 

He remembered when she had first told everyone she was moving, Azriel had been delighted. But the longer he thought about it, the more distraught he became. Nearly every single night, he would fall asleep listening to Y/N’s heartbeat, even if she was in another room, he would hear it and it would soothe him. During those nights, he had noticed that he didn’t have any nightmares. In fact, all he dreamt of was Y/N. 

The lights in Y/N’s house were off and Azriel’s heart sank. If she had already left then he would return and demand Rhys to tell him exactly where she was going. The surrounding area was quiet, even the wind seemed silent. Azriel closed his eyes and hearted a quiet and familiar heartbeat. Y/N’s heartbeat. 

Before he even began to think, Azriel was frantically knocking on her door. “Y/N! Please let me in!”

There was a quiet shuffle from inside the house but not any movement of the door Azriel was frantically knocking on. “Y/N, please let me in, sweetheart.”

The term of endearment slipped from his lips before he could stop it but Azriel didn’t care. All he wanted was to talk to Y/N. Talk to his mate.

“Please,” Azriel whispered desperately. “I need to talk to you, Y/N.”

“Please leave, Azriel,” Y/N’s voice came through the door. “I need to leave soon.”

“No you don’t,” Azriel said. “Please don’t.”

“I am,” Y/N said, and the door was ripped open.

There was a small pain in Azriel’s heart as he looked at Y/N. There were dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep and they appeared to be bloodshot. Azriel wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and tell her that everything was okay. But from the look on Y/N’s face, she decided against that. 

“Please leave Az,” Y/N whispered. 

“No,” Azriel said, forcing himself into her house. “I’m not leaving until I talk to you.”

“I need to get going–”

“When were you going to tell me that I was your mate?” Azriel asked. Y/N stilled and Azriel noticed that she refused to look him in the eye.  He stepped closer. “How long have you known?”

Y/N took in a sharp intake of breath before lifting her gaze to meet Azriel’s. “I found out a few days ago. The day I came to you asking if you wanted to go to the bakery with me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Azriel asked softly.

Y/N scoffed. “I tried! Last night.”

Azriel furrowed his eyebrows. “You never came to me last night.”

“I did. I had this whole plan but I showed up and you were with Elain again!” Y/N exclaimed.

“Of course I was with her!” Azriel said. “Rhys asked me to look out for her and make sure she was okay. I’m only doing what he asks.”

Y/N hummed. “Did he ask you to ignore me in the process? Did he ask you to seduce her? Kiss her?”

Azriel’s eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed. “You know exactly what I mean, Azriel. Last night, I walked in on you and Elain.”

His heart seemed to drop to his feet. “You saw us?”

“Yes I did,” Y/N said, taking a step back but Azriel didn’t let her as he took a step forward. “Please just leave me alone, Az.”

“No,” Azriel said. “You are my mate.”

“And?” Y/N said. “It doesn’t matter when you clearly have your sights set on someone else.”

“Don’t say that Y/N!” Azriel snapped.

“Why? It’s true. You spend all of your time with Elain to the point where I never see you.”

Azriel groaned. “I told you, I was doing as Rhys asked.”

Y/N shook her head. “Azriel, for so many months, you have ignored me in favour of her. Every time I ask if you want to do something, you are always busy because you are with Elain. I haven’t even had a full conversation with you in weeks.” Y/N let out a shaky breath. “I don’t want to admit that I am jealous, but I am.”

“Y/N, please, I don’t like Elain like that,” Azriel said desperately.

“Az, please leave. I need to get going,” Y/N said, trying to push past him. 

Something overcame Azriel and he wasn’t sure exactly what it was. One second he was standing with his arms by his side and the next his lips were pressed against Y/N’s as her back hit the wall behind her. 

Azriel pressed his body against hers as his arms trapped her against the wall. As soon as their lips connected, Azriel felt the bond. The overwhelming feeling caused him to only kiss Y/N harder. It was almost instinct the way his arms wrapped around her body to keep her close to him. He never wanted her to be anywhere else except in his arms. It had been months since he had felt the curves of her body, although this time in a much more intimate setting. He had missed the feeling of her skin on his. He missed the feeling of holding her. He missed everything about her. 

Y/N’s hands came to rest on his chest and Azriel melted further into the kiss, his arms wrapping around her waist tighter. It wasn’t until Y/N used all of her strength to push him away and his mouth was torn from hers. As Azriel opened his eyes, he wished he didn’t. Betrayal was lingering behind the colour he loved so much. 

“Why did you do that?” Y/N whispered, clearly hurt.

“Because it's you who I want, Y/N. Not Elain,” Azriel said, his hand trailing up her body to rest on her cheek. 

Y/N shook her head. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Lie to my face, Azriel,” Y/N said. “You can’t just quickly switch where your affections lie.”

“They lie with you–”

“Oh, please stop!” Y/N exclaimed, pushing Azriel further away from her. “I saw how close you and Elain were last night. I know that Rhys asked you to look after her but did that really need to entail pushing me away. If you really wanted to court Elain, Azriel. I would have helped, no matter how painful it would have been for me. There was no reason for you to push me away.”

“I already told you that I don’t want Elain. I only want you,” Azriel said, growing more and more desperate. 

Y/N scoffed. “Only because of the stupid mating bond.”

“It’s not stupid–”

“Yes it is! If it wasn’t stupid, why didn’t it snap when I fell in love with you years ago!”

Azriel stilled at Y/N’s confession. Y/N loved him. She loved him. Those words Azriel was too afraid to say himself, Y/N had said to him. His mind screamed at him to respond but as soon as the words reached his mouth he couldn’t get them out. 

“You say that you hold no affection for Elain but your actions speak differently, Azriel,” Y/N said, stepping past him. 

“Y/N, please listen to me,” Azriel said, reaching out to grip her hand. 

Her fingers seemed to curl around his before she seemed to think better of it and pulled away. 

“Tell Cassian to come and lock my door assuming he still has the keys,” Y/N said before she left through the front door. 

“Y/N,” Azriel said, desperation evident in his voice as he followed her to her front garden. 

But Y/N was nowhere to be seen, she was gone, taking Azriel’s heart with her in the process.

***

It had been days since Y/N had left and Azriel hadn’t left her house. Each night he would curl up in her bed missing the scent of her. Even though the bed was too small to accommodate for his wings, it didn’t force Azriel to move. Rhys had tried to contact him multiple times but Azriel had ignored him as he buried his head further into Y/N’s pillows. 

There was a pain in his chest that had never been there before, it was as if he could feel all of the pain and betrayal Y/N felt and Azriel thought he deserved it. He deserved every bit of it. He should have explained better, he should have sat Y/N down and explained everything he was feeling in detail. 

Azriel pulled the covers further over his body, inhaling her scent. It was fading in favour of his own and Azriel hated that. As he closed his eyes, loud knocks sounded throughout the house. Azriel groaned. 

“Azriel,” Elain’s voice shouted through the door. “I know you are there.”

If Azriel didn’t want the ground to swallow him up before, he wanted it to now. He had no intention of speaking to Elain again– at least for a while. That night of their almost kiss was a mistake. 

“Azriel!” Elain shouted, her voice seemingly more irritated. 

With a groan, Azriel lifted himself from Y/N’s bed and he immediately missed the comfort it brought him. He dragged his feet out of the room and down the stairs until he stood in front of the door. Through the frosted glass panes he could see Elain standing there, her arms folded across her chest. 

Azriel’s hand shook as he reached out and opened the door. He revealed Elain’s face and there was an emotion upon it which he had never seen before. It reminded him of Y/N’s expression when she had pushed him away after he had kissed her.

“What are you doing here, Elain?” Azriel asked, his voice hoarse from not talking for days.

“What are you doing here, Azriel?” Elain questioned, forcing her way into Y/N’s house. “No one has seen you in days.”

“I’ve been here,” Azriel replied. 

“So it seems,” Elain said, surveying the living room. “But why are you still here? Y/N left days ago.”

Azriel remained silent as Elain inspected the flowers sitting in the middle of Y/N’s coffee table. He wanted her to leave. He didn’t want to be anywhere near her. 

“I know,” Azriel responded. 

Elain sat down on the sofa and finally met Azriel’s gaze. “Why have you been avoiding me?”

“What?” Azriel said, wanting nothing more than to bury himself underneath Y/N’s many blankets and wish the day away. 

“Ever since that night, you haven’t even looked me in the eye. Why?” Elain’s eyes filled with tears but Azriel could tell she was trying to fight them back. It only made him feel guiltier. 

Azriel’s mouth opened and closed, trying to search for an answer. But every single answer he thought of would only hurt her feelings. “Please leave, Elain. It will be better for both of us.”

Elain shook her head. “I’m not leaving until I get an answer, Azriel. Why did you pull away from me? Did all of those dates mean nothing to you?”

“They weren’t dates,” Azriel found himself saying. 

Elain looked as if she had been struck. “But you have taken me to dinner, on walks in the park, to that bakery that just opened.”

“They weren’t dates,” Azriel said, only feeling guiltier. 

Elain frowned. “Then what were they, Azriel? Because you have been very invested in my life since I have arrived here.”

“I was tasked by Rhys to keep an eye on you,” Azriel admitted, ripping the bandage away.

“What?” Elain asked, her voice quiet. “So all of those days were you just pretending to like me?”

“No,” Azriel said, running his fingers through his hair. “No, it wasn’t like that.”

“Then what was it, Azriel?” Elain questioned, an edge to her voice. 

“I tried, okay? I really tried to like you, I really did,” Azriel said, admitting to the middle Archeron sister what he never thought he would. “That's why I agreed to go on all of those outings with you. I could never think of you more than a friend.”

“You were trying to force yourself to fall in love with me?” Elain asked. Azriel broke eye contact and looked to the floor, he didn’t want to see her hurt expression any longer. “Why?” She followed up.

“If I forced myself to love you, then maybe I wouldn’t still love–”

Azriel couldn’t say it. He had never said it out loud before. If he said it then it would become too real and there would be no turning back. 

Elain studied his expression, rising from the sofa. “Y/N. You are in love with Y/N.” Azriel’s silence was just as good of an answer spoken for Elain. “Why would you use me like that, Azriel? Unlike you, I actually began to feel something for you. I thought you returned those feelings.”

Something wet fell down Azriel’s cheek. He hadn’t even realised he had been crying. “I am sorry, Elain. I am so sorry.”

“Can you at least tell me why? You owe me that much.”

“I fell in love with Y/N a long time ago, long before you were even born,” Azriel began. “We were friends at first, but it wasn’t long before I fell in love. She is so perfect in every single way. Her intelligence, her kindness, her strength, her beauty. Everything.” Elain nodded although Azriel could see the sadness in her expression. He continued nevertheless. “I never thought that she would love me back. I never thought that she would return my feelings so I repressed them.”

“How did you manage that?” Elain asked, quietly.

“It was difficult. I have killed, tortured many for information and sometimes that takes its toll. But hiding my love for Y/N had to be the most difficult thing I have ever done. It wasn’t until you showed up and took an interest in me where I tried to fall for you instead.” Azriel picked at a loose thread on the shirt he wore. “I thought it was a perfect plan. You are kind, beautiful and understanding. I thought it would be easy for me. And when Rhys tasked me with looking after you, I thought it would be even easier. But whenever I was with you, all I could think about was Y/N. And when I nearly kissed you–”

“All you could think about was Y/N,” Elain finished. 

Azriel nodded. “When I opened my eyes and saw you, I panicked and left without any explanation. From the bottom of my heart, I am so sorry, Elain.”

“I don’t forgive you, Azriel. You used me because you loved someone else and were simply trying to distract yourself.” Elain said and there was a long pause before she began to speak again. “But I cannot blame you. Loving someone can be hard and difficult and can make you do stupid things. And Y/N is perfect and I don’t like that you made me out to be some kind of villain in her eyes.”

Azriel opened his mouth to speak but Elain cut him off.

“Please don’t apologise again, Azriel,” Elain said. “It would have never worked out between us. I never want to be someone’s second choice and that was all I was to you.” Elain began to walk over to the front door. “It will take me a while to forgive you, Azriel. But listen to me when I say this. Tell Y/N the truth, tell her everything.”

“I’ve already fucked up whatever friendship we had, I don’t want to make it worse,” Azriel whispered.

“You are her mate and her best friend, the one who knows her better than anyone, do you truly believe that your whole friendship is gone because of one stupid decision you made?” Elain paused as she stood on the threshold. “I hope you find your happiness, Azriel. I am going to find mine and I will not be a back up choice for a male who is too afraid to admit their feelings.”

“I hope you find it, Elain,” Azriel said. “And I hope you can forgive me someday.”

With a simple nod of her head, Elain left the house, closing the door behind her. Azriel was left alone once again. 

***

It had been a month since Y/N was last in Velaris. She thought that the trip would be good for her to get her mind off of Azriel but she wasn’t needed as much as she thought she would. For the month she had been on the continent, Y/N was sure that she had only done a few hours of work, the rest of her time she spent in her room she had been so graciously allocated. 

And in those lonely hours all she could think of was Azriel. His had been the last face she had seen before she winnowed away and it was ingrained into her brain. The hurt expression on his face, the desperation that lingered beneath it. Y/N turned over in the bed. It was comfortable but it was nothing like the one at her house. She missed being in Velaris and she missed her family– and that included Azriel. 

“Y/N,” a guard rushed into her room. “A letter has come for you.”

Y/N pushed herself up from the bed and took the letter from the guard's hand. “Thank you,” she muttered. 

As soon as Y/N looked down at her name in the familiar writing, she felt her heart rate increase. Tearing into the envelope, Y/N pulled the letter from its confines. Rhys’s writing was a welcome sight of home but his words were not. 

The words she read about how Azriel was faring after her departure sent shocks to her heart. She knew it was stupid for her to feel sorry for him, after all he had brought everything upon himself, but she couldn’t help it. She was in love with him and that would never change. 

The moment Y/N finished the letter, she picked up her travel bag, she hadn’t even unpacked anything, and exited the bedroom, wanting nothing more than to go home. 

***

As Y/N appeared in front of her house, she could immediately feel the air shift. Even though it was her own house, she was reluctant to enter. Everything suddenly felt too real. 

Finally Y/N pushed open her door and found Rhys and Cassian inside while Azriel sat on her couch, his wings slumped behind him. Y/N’s heart immediately fell at the sight of the shadowsinger. The bags under his eyes were prominent and he had clearly lost weight. Y/N had never seen him in such a state. 

Rhys’s gaze met Y/N’s. “Cassian and I will wait outside.”

Y/N didn’t respond as he gaze shifted back to Azriel who continued to look down at the coffee table, fixated on the dead flowers. As soon as Rhys and Cassian had stepped outside, Y/N slowly shuffled closer to Azriel and sat on the couch next to him. The bond connecting their souls seemed to hum happily as they were finally reunited. 

“Azriel?” Y/N broke the silence. 

“I am so sorry Y/N.” Azriel’s voice was hoarse and quiet. “About Elain. About ignoring you. About kissing you. About everything.”

When Azriel lifted his gaze, Y/N could see the sadness within them and she could feel it in her chest.

“Why?” It was all Y/N could say. 

Azriel sighed. “When you told me you loved me, I was shocked because I thought that someone so kind, so smart, so beautiful, so…perfect, would never love me back.”

Y/N stilled. “You love me?”

Azriel nodded. “Y/N, I have loved you for centuries. I was afraid that if you ever found out, it would ruin our whole friendship. And if I lost you, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself. You…complete me. I feel like I can always be myself around you. Before I met you I always felt like there was something missing in my life and when you stumbled into it, it was as if everything fell into place.”

“But everything with Elain? You say you love me but you have been surrounding yourself with her for nearly a year.” Y/N said. 

“I never felt anything but friendship for Elain,” Azriel admitted. “But I tried to like her romantically. I tried to force myself to fall in love with her.”

“Why would you do that, Azriel?” Y/N questioned.

“Because I never thought that you would love me back,” Azriel said. “If I fell in love with Elain then maybe I could forget all about my feelings for you, maybe they would disappear. But the more time I spent with Elain, the more I realised that I would never be able to fall for her because I was so utterly in love with you that I thought about you every minute I was with her. I thought about you that night before Solstice. When I opened my eyes and saw her instead of you, I panicked. I wanted it to be you.”

Y/N frowned, taking in Azriel’s words. “But what of Elain? Why would you mess with her feelings like that?”

Azriel’s shoulders seemed to slump. “A few days after you left, Elain came to me and demanded to know everything that was going on. It is safe to say that she is not happy with me.”

“Good,” Y/N said. “Because I am not entirely happy with you, Azriel. Why didn’t you just speak to me? Why didn’t you tell me you loved me? You just assumed that I didn’t return your feelings.”

“I couldn’t know for sure,” Azriel said. “I know it was stupid of me–”

“It was,” Y/N said. “In the three centuries I have known you, this is the stupidest thing you have done. We have always been open with one another.”

“I know. I regret everything I did. I regret using Elain to try and get over my feelings. I regret pushing you away in favour of her. I just never thought you could possibly like me back?”

“Why?”

“Because you are perfect!” Azriel exclaimed. “You are everything I am not. You are everything good in the world. You are a goddess in my eyes.” Azriel tore his eyes away from Y/N and focussed on his hand folded in his lap. “I am damaged.”

“Don’t say that,” Y/N said, moving to sit on the coffee table in front of him. “Don’t ever say that Azriel.”

“But it’s true,” Azriel said. “I have so much blood on my hands, Y/N.”

Y/N slowly reached forward and took Azriel’s hands in hers. He tried to pull them away but she held on tight. “Azriel, I have blood on my hands too. I am not perfect at all. Neither of us are, evident by the way we both handled our emotions.”

The shadowsingers gaze was no longer fixated on his hands as he slowly met Y/N’s gaze once more. “I am not going to easily forgive you, Azriel. You messed with Elain’s emotions and you made me feel unimportant as you pushed me away.”

Azriel’s shoulders deflated. 

“But,” Y/N continued. “That does not mean that I don’t still love you. My mate.”

All the weight on Azriel’s shoulders appeared to be lifted and his eyes seemed to clear. “Say that again…” he whispered.

Y/N leaned forward and pressed her forehead against his. “My mate.”

Azriel exhaled slowly and pulled Y/N’s body closer to his until he could circle her waist with his arms. “I am so sorry, Y/N. For everything.”

“I know you are,” Y/N said, threading her fingers through his hair. 

“I love you, Y/N,” Azriel mumbled into her shoulder. “Will you ever be able to forgive me?”

Y/N pulled away and rested her forehead on his. His eyes were closed but slowly opened as Y/N gently caressed his face. “You might have hurt me, Azriel, but I will forgive you. I know you well enough to know how you sometimes process things and act upon things.” Y/N pressed a tender kiss to his forehead. “And sometime in the near future, I will be ready to accept the bond.”

Azriel’s eyes lit up. “You will accept the bond?”

“Of course I will,” Y/N replied. “I am in love with you Azriel. No matter how much you convinced yourself that I never could, I do love you. I wouldn’t want anyone else as my mate. But first, I want us to get back to where we were before. Before I accept the bond, I just want my best friend back.”

“I love you so much,” Azriel breathed out. 

And when he placed his lips upon hers, Y/N welcomed them.

#acotar x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel fluff #azriel angst

[f1goat]

more than friends ; lando norris + part ten

In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.

masterlist - playlist

fem!y/n x lando norris

warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.

requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things

part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine

“You’re insane,” Oscar tells his teammate when he sees you walking towards Lando and him. “Actually insane,” he mutters when he gets an even closer look on you. When you feel Oscar his eyes on you, you know for sure what he’s looking at. He looks at the same thing that everyone else is looking at when they see you. Lando his love bites. Why did he even leave them so out in the open? You tried to cover them up with make up, but it didn’t work. If you brought a turtle neck with you, you would have worn it for sure right now. But since you’re in another hot country, you only have summer clothes with low necklines. Which means that everyone can see the marks on your skin that Lando made two days earlier. You curse him for leaving them on this place, but you continue to walk closer to him. 

“Insane?” Lando asks Oscar. He notices the way his teammate looks at you. 

“Is this to show Pierre that she’s taken or something stupid like that?” Oscar continues to scold Lando. He didn’t even think about it like that, but now that he does… The hickeys might help with Pierre backing off a bit. “You can’t claim something you don’t own,” Oscar sighs, “just remember that before you do more stupid shit.”

Before Lando can say anything to Oscar, you’re already standing in front of them. He notices the way you try to cover the hickeys with you hair, but he stills sees the red love bites. Now that he thinks about it, let everyone see them - maybe then everyone will figure out that you belong to him. 

“Hey baby,” Lando greets you.

“Don’t baby me, I’m mad at you,” you sigh, “I should have brought a turtleneck with me. Everyone is looking at me.”

“Sorry,” Lando jokes. He watches around you and notices the way people are watching at you. You’re right. Everyone is paying attention to you. He notices some press workers as well. Normally the track isn’t busy on Wednesdays, but today seems different. He hears cameras clicking. Are people taking pictures of you? He starts to stress a bit. Lando pulls you closer to himself and drapes his arm around your shoulder, using it to hide your hickeys a bit more. 

“I might have a crewneck sweater laying here somewhere,” Lando tells you. 

You nod at Lando. Together you walk inside the McLaren motorhome. You notice the way even some mechanics are watching you. You’re going to kill Lando. This is all his fault. Lando doesn’t pay attention to them, he takes your hand and pulls you with him the his drivers room. There you finally get his sweater. You’re quick to put it on. Happily you watch in the mirror, almost no love bite is still visible now. The sweater is way too hot, but you rather become sweaty then have people look at you for the whole day. You can only hope they’ll fade away quickly. In silence the two of you walk back to the track. 

Together with Lando you’re strolling on the track. It’s relaxing to walk around with him like this. Lando is holding your hand. You like the peaceful silence between you two right now. It feels comfortable and relaxing. You realize that you don’t feel like this around other people. Lando has always been your safe place. It reminds you about how special things are between Lando and you, but it reminds you most about how you can’t fuck things up between you two. 

Your feelings are already coming in the way. They have always done, but since you have been experiencing the sexual stuff with him it has become worse. Maybe it’s because you have a tiny bit of hope that Lando also feels something for you. It’s the first time you have ever had that hope. Partly because of his jealousy, that must mean something right? But still, you wonder if it’s worth it if it can also ruin your friendship? What if you’re wrong and Lando doesn’t feel the same? 

When Lando grabs your hand, he pulls you out of your thoughts. “Don’t look to fast,” he says, “but I think Pierre is coming this way.” Fuck. You’re not in the mood for that. Slowly you watch around you, it doesn’t take you long to see that Lando is right. Pierre is walking towards the two of you. In only a couple seconds he’s standing in front of you. 

“You could have told me,” Pierre says to Lando without any context. 

“Told you what?” Lando asks confused. 

“Come on,” Pierre sighs, “All the gossip accounts are full with it. The two of you are dating.”

“Sorry?” You ask confused, “Are gossip accounts stating that we’re dating?”

“Yes!”

You let out a sigh. Gossip accounts have always been a thing. They always suspect that there’s something going on between Lando and you, but they never had any proof. You drop Lando his hand. This is a mess. You don’t even want to see your socials right now, they’re probably full with hate. Fuck. 

“Since when do you believe gossip accounts?” Lando asks Pierre.

“Since she has been spotted with hickeys all over her and she’s now wearing one of your crewneck sweaters,” Pierre answers annoyed, “I don’t get it why you didn’t tell me. I made a fool of myself by asking her on a date. You could have said something.”

“I told you that you weren’t her type.”

Lando continues to argue with Pierre. You on the other hand can only wonder when the gossip accounts are going to share the pictures of your love bites. Fuck, what are ‘fans’ going to do then? You grab your phone and look at the way your notifications are already blowing up. Reactions keep coming, you read a couple of them. Most of them are calling you a slut. Whenever you see a nice one, there are more negative ones beneath them. You search on a gossip page, wondering what they already posted. Then you see one of the pictures.

It’s you in your former outfit. The hickeys on your neck and collar are hard to miss. Suddenly you start to feel watched. It feels like everyone around you is looking at you. 

“You should have told me that you two are dating,” Pierre scoffs angrily.

“We’re not,” you sigh. It’s the first time that you’re saying something again. “And even if we were, it’s none of your business. Can you take me back to the motorhome Lando?”

When you’re finally back in Lando his drivers room, you grab your phone again. Your notifications are blowing up. It seems like everyone is talking about Lando and you dating. You have never gotten this many comments under a Instagram post, you’re above a thousand now on your most recent post. You try to read as many as you can, but a lot of them are the same. People are calling you a slut for “parading” around the track with the hickeys. Others are saying that Lando deserves better, that you’re only with him for the fame. As if you weren’t with him before he even started in Formula One. Sometimes you read a positive comment. Some people seem to like it that Lando and you are “finally” together, not that it’s true. Some people are even reacting about the true love between you two. All of it makes you sad. You don’t even notice the tears that are falling down on your cheeks, until Lando wipes a couple of them away.

Lando doesn’t know how to act. He takes you into his arms and tries to comfort you as much as he can manage. He doesn’t know what is wrong, but he can guess. When Pierre said something about the gossip accounts, he didn’t even think about the consequences for you from those accounts, but now he remembers. Every time they post about you, your notifications are blowing up. People know how to find your Instagram and how to leave horrible comments. He doesn’t even want to read it. 

“Nothing of what they’re saying is true babygirl,” Lando shushes. You let out a soft sob. “Everyone thinks I’m a slut,” you tell him, “or a gold digger or just an awful person.”

“You’re not.” He presses a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’re the most wonderful person I know,” he continues, “So stop letting this get to you babygirl, they’re not worth it.” 

“Lan?” You ask softly. He nods and waits for you to continue. “This is all your fault,” you softly joke, “fucking hickeys.” Lando lets out a soft laugh. 

+++

“Fuck, babygirl,” Lando grunts when you lower your body onto his. He feels himself enter you. “You feel so fucking good.”

You’re sitting on top of Lando. He’s not even more then ten minutes back from the second free practice. It didn’t went like he wanted to. When he got out of the car, he let everyone know about that. The moment he started to scold multiple mechanics you were quick to intervene. Normally you don’t, but Lando kept going on and on. It was getting too much. He really lost his temper this time. You wonder why, normally he’s rather patient. 

Slowly you move your body on top of Lando. This position makes you feel more fulled up then the first time. With slow movements you fuck him. When you let out a soft moan, Lando shows you a small smile. His hands are all over your body. He kneads your boobs while pressing his lips against your collarbone. Softly placing kisses all over it. 

You didn’t know what got into you when you grabbed Lando his hand while he acted rude to his team. He gave you a surprised look and even shut his mouth for a bit. When you stood on your toes to reach his ear, he turned all of his attention to you. “If you stop whining,” you whisper, “I’ll have sex with you in your drivers room.” Lando shut in within seconds. He even apologized to his crew before taking your hand and almost running towards his drivers room with you. Undressing you as soon as he turned the door behind him. When your dress was all up and his pants were down and he was ready to enter you, you surprised him one more time. “I want to be on top.”

Lando can’t stop himself from letting out multiple moans when you increase your pace. Faster then before you move yourself on top of him. He grabs your neck and moves your face closer towards himself so he can kiss you properly. His hands are still busy kneading your boobs. He gives your nipples a bit more attention by softly pulling on them. 

“Fuck Lan,” you whine when he pulls back from the kiss. He chuckles and let his hands slide down on your body. His lips are attached to your neck. “No more visible marks,” you instruct half jokingly, half serous. Lando grunts but moves his mouth a bit lower, making sure his new marks can be covered with summer clothes. 

You’re surprised when you feel Lando put his finger on your clitoris. He shows you a small smile when he notices your surprised look. Slowly he traces circles on the sensitive bud, making you feel all kind of things. You let out a loud moan. Lando adds a bit more pressure. You try to increase your pace as well, but you start to feel worn out. Lando helps you, effortless he moves himself inside of you. Picking up a fast pace. It causes you to let out more moans. 

“Fucking insane how good you feel,” Lando groans. He feels himself coming close to his orgasm, but he wants to feel you cum on his dick first. He increases his pace on both fucking you as on playing with your sensitive bud. Stimulating you as much as he can. 

“Are you going to cum for me?” Lando asks you, “Let me feel how good it feels to have your pussy clenching around my cock.” You don’t react verbally. Lando keeps talking dirty to you. “So fucking tight.” “Such a good girl.” 

“I’m close Lan,” you suddenly tell him, “Can I cum?”

Lando increases his pace as much as he can. “Please do babygirl,” he tells you. When he feels your pussy clenching around his cock, he lets go as well. When his cum enters your body, Lando tells you one more thing. “My good girl.” It makes you all flustered. 

+++

Days are going by quickly. Before you know it, it’s already Sunday - meaning it’s race day again. This is the last race of the triple header, meaning that after this Lando and you will go back home. You don’t know how to feel about that. Last weeks you have spent al your time with Lando, sleeping in his hotel rooms and being together almost every moment of the day. It has been extremely nice. You like living with Lando like this. That’s maybe why you don’t like going back home tomorrow. Then you’ll be alone in your own apartment again, without Lando laying next to you in the bed every night. 

“Good luck kiss?” Lando asks you. He holds his helmet. He’s almost ready to get into his car and to start with the race. You show him a small nod and press the standard ‘good luck kiss’ against his cheek. Like you always do when you’re with him at races. “Don’t know if that will bring me enough luck,” Lando jokes. 

You show Lando a confused look. What does he mean? Before you can ask about it, Lando presses his lips on your for a small moment of time. It can’t have lasted longer then a second, but it was long enough to wake up the butterflies in your stomach. You look around you. Did anyone see it? It can’t be. You don’t more negative comments on your socials. Now that you think about it, what did just happen? Since when is Lando kissing you in public places? 

Lando doesn’t say anything else, he walks off to his car. He can only think about what he just did. He realizes that if anyone saw, it will mean that you’ll get more hate. Maybe he should say something about it on his socials? He needs some help from his PR team. He wonders what’s going on with him. He just kissed you in a public place, practically on his work, where everyone could see. Since when are you doing that? If someone saw and shares it, the madhouse will be complete. He wonders what would happen if he would date you and share it online. People have been shipping the two of you for a long time, so some of them might be happy. But there are always so many haters. When he takes place in his car, he looks at the Alpine motorhome. He remembers Pierre his statements from earlier this week. Finally someone who understands that you’re not for him to take. 

He really should solve this problem and make you his. 

Then he remembers something else. Didn’t you have a date planned with some guy for after the triple header? He tries to forgot about it and focus on the upcoming race, but that seems to be hard form him right now. He can’t stop thinking about the guy who’s taking you on a date. Who is it? Will you fall in love with him? When he lines up to the start, he’s still thinking about the guy you’re going on a date with. 

You watch Lando race. All of your focus is on him, nothing new now that you think about it. Only this time it doesn’t feel like it normally does. It’s because of some weird feeling that you can’t seem to shake off. It almost feels like something is going to happen. Something bad. It feels off. You don’t know why you’re thinking like this right now, but you can’t seem to stop. You can’t take your eyes off the screen which shows Lando his car all the time. Multiple mechanics are watching the fight for second place, but you can only focus on Lando. Even the way he races feels off. It’s hard to say without any knowledge about it, but he almost seems unfocused. 

Then you see the reason behind your feeling. Lando misses his braking point. Within seconds he’s spinning into the wall. You let out a loud scream when it happens. Quickly you stand up and walk closer to the screen. All the attention of everyone in the motorhome is on the screen as well now. Everyone is waiting for Lando to say something. To let them know he’s okay. 

You need to hear Lando say something. You need to know if he’s okay. The crash didn’t look massive, but still bad. It doesn’t take long for a safety car to show up on the grid, leading the drivers. Many drivers are coming into the pit to change their tires. You don’t notice any of it, you just keep waiting for Lando to say something. The stress doesn’t leave your body. 

“I’m ok.”

You feel how you let out a lot of air at once with a relieved sigh. Thank god, Lando is okay. You watch how he climbs out of his car. It seems like he has no trouble with walking away from the track to get back to the motorhome. Within a couple minutes you see Lando showing up at the motorhome. The medical team is following him inside, you hear some talks about medical checks but you don’t follow it. All of your attention is on Lando. 

While walking to Lando you almost trip over your own feet. “Fuck Lan,” you stammer while rushing yourself into his arms. Lando doesn’t react verbally, he just wraps his arms around your body and holds you closely to himself. You don’t even notice that you’re making his race suit wet with your tears. “Are you hurt?” You ask him. 

“We would have known if he joined us for his medical checks,” someone tells you with an annoyed tone in her voice. You let go of Lando and look around you, only to see that the whole medical team is gathered around you. 

“You didn’t have your check up yet?” You ask Lando confused. “No,” he replies. “Fucking hell Lan,” you mutter, “Go with them you idiot.” Lando shows you a boyish grin, “Sorry babygirl, I wanted to see you first.” 

Lando and you are rejoined only a small hour later. He is still laying in a hospital bed. The medical team decided that he needed some rest before getting back out of there. The crash wasn’t hard and didn’t left much damage across for a few bruises and painful spots on his body. They gave him some pain medication, which causes him to feel a bit loopy. You’re sitting next to him, waiting until he wakes up. You have seen him on medication like this before, the Grand Prix in Las Vegas showed you how loopy and careless Lando can act with medication like this. You wonder how he will act this time. 

When Lando wakes up, he’s happy to see sitting right next to him. He is quick to remember the way he crashed during the race. He feels ashamed when he realizes why he lost his concentration and how it ended his race, such a rookie mistake. And probably easy to fix if he finally gets the nerve to tell you about his feelings. He feels himself getting mad at himself. Before he can think about it any longer you’re already taking to him. 

“How are you feeling Lan?” You ask him.

“Not great,” Lando sighs honestly.

“You scared the shit out of me,” you confess, “what happened?”

He can’t exactly tell you that he couldn’t stop thinking about you and the date you’re going on as soon you’re back in Monaco. That would be stupid. Although it is the real reason. Lando wants to make up some sort of excuse, but he is already talking again. Those fucking pain meds. 

“Couldn’t focus,” he confesses, “I kept thinking about something.” He can barely stop himself on time from telling you that he was thinking about you and your date. 

“About what?” You ask confused. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Lando quickly says before he can say anything stupid again. He needs to stop himself from confessing even more. “Okay Lan,” you softly say. You grab his hand and draw some figures on it. There’s a comfortable silence between you two. Lando enjoys your soft touches on your hand. He feels himself getting calm and almost falling asleep again. But right before he falls asleep, he can’t stop himself from saying something stupid again. He cam blame the pain meds, but he knows that he means every word.

“Babygirl?” He asks. “Yeah Lan?”

“Please don’t get a boyfriend,” he says. “And please don’t go on a date when you’re back in Monaco with anyone else then me.”

Fuck. Did he really just say that? How on earth will he fix this? Lando closes his eyes and tries to fall asleep instead of thinking what he just did. Lando doesn’t notice the way you have a small smile laying on your lips and how good you feel because of his words. 

“I already cancelled that date,” you confess to Lando, “After we fucked I decided that it might be a better idea to practice a bit more.” 

Lando opens his eyes and shows you a happy grin. “I don’t think you need a lot of practice,” he says, “but I’m happy to help.”

“That’s a deal.”

“My good girl,” Lando mutters before falling asleep.

part eleven

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taglist p2: @chezmardybum @booksandflowrs @mineandneveryours @strawberryy-kiwii @noneofyourfbusinessworld @secretgal66 @trinity2058 @evieepepi08 @shutupmymomsc4lling @smiithys @nanamilkbread @hellowgoodbye @annie115 @random-1927 @sadmeal444 @christianpulisic10 @peachiicherries @toppersjeep @lovingaphroditesworld @kiskso @silentreader128 @lauralarsen @scopeiguess @trinity2058 @shy4turcs @moonlight-girls-posts @xjval @saachiep81 @leclercdream @adalynneva @swiftiedrafts @oscahpastry @customsbyjcg-blog @idontcare011 @f1fantasys @emyladia

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris imagine #ln4 #formula one #f1 #lando norris imagines #lando norris smut

[kingofthe-egirls]

SITTING PRETTY: LUFFY x Y/N

(cw: alcohol, kitsune, east blue crew, yes i was imagining the opla cast but so were you, kissing, sitting in someone’s lap)

(a/n: this was so fun. smut maybe coming soon? we’ll see)

Songs: “Hotel” by Claire Rosinkranz

words: 1.2k

Luffy is staring at you.

He’s sitting across the campfire from you, sipping a glass of milk through a straw. You have your own moscow mule in hand, the copper mug sweating with cold condensation.

The air smells like smoke.

“So!” Luffy speaks, twirling his straw around in his drink. He slurps it loudly before continuing, “Let’s play a game!”

He smiles around at the rest of the crew, who are all in their own various states of intoxication. It’s been a long night, after several days at sea with no islands in sight. Everyone is a little bored, a little stressed, and more than a little in need of blowing off some steam. Nami shrugs.

“Sure, captain. What’s up?”

Luffy leans forward, wicked smirk painting his charming features. You stare down into your melted ice and muddled mint leaves.

“Let’s play truth or dare!”

Zoro sighs, but leans forward too. Sanji and Usopp also perk up. The Merry creaks in the waves as she sails. The ocean laps at her sides, soothing and peaceful in the summer night air. The campfire sparks up with a flare.

Luffy slurps his milk.

“What are the stakes?” Nami asks, adjusting in her seat, her boots slung over one another as she leans back. Usopp is fiddling with his slingshot.

Zoro shrugs, “Drink if you won’t take a dare, drink twice if you won’t take a truth.”

“So, we’re trying to outmatch each other? Get stuff we won’t wanna do?”

“Sorta,” Zoro says, “S’alright with everyone?”

“Sounds fun,” you admit, downing your glass before handing it off to Sanji. He’s a sucker for your sparkly eyes and fluffy tails. Your ears flick back and forth, excited. Nervous.

Sanji hurries back with a refill.

He straightens his suit jacket before sitting back down. The indigo night washes over him with a flattering, velvet softness. You wonder what shade of blue his eyes are, up close.

Luffy clears his throat.

“Sooo, who wants to go first?” His shining eyes scan the crew, and you flick up a tail (or two). He smiles, and takes a sip of his kid’s drink.

You sigh. “Truth,” you say, staring at Nami. You figure she’s gonna strike the worst, so might as well get it over with first. She stares at you, flicking her eyes up and down your scrappy frame. She arches an auburn brow.

“So, Kitty,” she sips her cider, and Sanji shifts in his seat. “Have you ever had sex before?”

She’s smiling, devilish, as you snort through your drink. She laughs as you cough, orange hair swaying in the soft breeze. Everyone else stutters and laughs, and Zoro mutters something about “starting off strong.” You swallow, sucking your teeth as you swirl melted ice around your drink.

“Yes.”

Everyone sighs out in relief, tension removed for a second of release.

Your eyes flick up to hers.

“Your turn.”

She stares back at you: a challenge.

“Dare.”

You shrug, mouth turned down, “I dare you to say when the last time you had sex was.” You stare at her glare, as she clocks you basically just gave her a truth anyway. She sniffs.

“Last week.”

“Liar!” You say, and she giggles. You shove the bottle of tequila closer to her, and she swallows what is certainly more than just one shot.

“Your turn,” she says to Zoro, who glances at Luffy for his prompt.

Luffy stares at the floor, now-empty glass held loosely in slender fingers. “What…is your favorite color?”

“I didn’t say truth, captain,” Zoro snorts, “Truth or dare, Luffy.”

“Dare?”

Sanji sighs, and Usopp says “we might as well go with it,” so Zoro sighs and starts to think of something to dare his already-reckless captain with. He settles on something silly, and tame.

“I dare you to slingshot back and forth across the ship five times.”

Happy to be moving, your hyperactive friend shoots up and starts gum-gum rocketing across the ship with no small amount of shouting. You swirl the mint leaves in your drink. “Your turn,” you murmur to Usopp, who gives Sanji a glance.

“Truth or dare?” The chef asks, his own glass of wine clutched in his delicate fist. It’s as dark as the sea.

“Truth.”

“What do Kaya’s lips taste like?”

The group ooo’s in scandalous delight, all eyes on the sniper as he stares down into his drink. “Pass,” he says, and takes a huge slurp. It dribbles down his chin. “Who’s turn is next?”

“Sanji,” you say, turning to him with a smile, “Truth or dare, handsome?”

He blushes at your pet name, and someone coughs. The blond boy licks his lips. His eyes meet yours, reflecting the fire’s red heat.

“Dare.”

“Kiss my cheek,” you preen, tails flicking around you. You bare the side of your face to him, sitting pretty by the campfire. Your scrappy jeans have stitched-on patches, and your crop top hangs loose around your frame. A single pendant hangs around your neck, and your hair is twisted into messy braids. You knock your steel-toed boots together.

Sanji hums, peaceful, as he delicately scoots toward you. He’s already sitting next to you, tall legs and broad shoulders bumping into yours as he settles closer in. His hand is slightly cool as it graces the side of your neck. “Be still, pretty,” he whispers, just for you, as he presses a slow smooch against your cheek. He bites it, playfully, and you swat him away with a fearsome blush.

Usopp giggles, and Nami snorts into her cider again. Zoro and Luffy are both silent. You swallow, and cast about the crew for someone else’s turn. “Is it me again?” You ask, and Zoro nods.

“Truth or dare?” He says, sake almost drained from his bottle. The air stills, sudden breeze gone quiet as you sit together. You curl two tails around yourself, petting the soft, arctic fur in your lap. It scratches against the striped patch on the side of your left hip.

“Truth.”

“Nope,” Zoro says, swigging his sake, “Truth is boring. You’re doing a dare. Sit in the lap of the person you’d most like to have sex with.”

Everyone gasps, except for you.

Your eyes burn with smoke, staring down the swordsman across the crackling flames. Sparks shoot up between you, orange and hazy in the moonlight. Something thumps against the ship; a fish or a shark that swims away silently.

You stand.

Sanji shifts, still close to you from his kiss. He scratches the fabric of his slacks above his left knee. His shoes are shiny and black beneath the stars. You step over them, carefully.

And you make your way across the circle, slowly as a shark circling prey.

“Sorry,” you whisper, standing in front of the captain who saved you, “Is this seat taken?”

He stares at you.

His breath comes ragged and hazy, as he sets his glass down to make room. His hands are sweaty, so he wipes them off on his shorts as you stand beside his hip. He leans back, slightly, to let you sit side-saddle across his legs. He shifts on the deck so he’s cross-legged, and you take your seat with a searing blush. Your ass fits neatly into the space between his crisscrossed legs, his heat spilling into your body as he wraps his arms around your waist.

He nuzzles into your cheek, his soft hair tickling your jaw. “Sleeping in my hammock tonight,” he whispers, his lips in your hair, “Captain’s orders.”

****

#dumpster dive #my writing #one piece fanfic #luffy fanfic #luffy x reader #kitty speaks #luffy x y/n #luffy x kitsune #luffy x kitty #luffy x oc #luffy x you #sanji x you #sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #vasya #fox tales #kitsune oc

[indulgentdaydream]

Drawing Touches

Jason Todd x gn!Reader

Fluff. || Word Count: 936

Summary: You wake up on a hot summer night, Jason sleeping beside you. It’s too hot to sleep right next to each other, so why not play a game?

there’s something about shirtless jason and a groggy sleepy voice to match. Also you can see a demonstration of my left handed!jason hc in this and I didn't realize until after.

Side note: i hate the winter and i just really want the warmth even if it’s overbearing so that’s why i made it summer in this fic

Warnings: scar mentions (specifically on back), broken wrist, use of pet names (darling, baby)

Jason hadn’t gone on patrol. This time, you didn’t have to try as hard to convince him to stay while he was injured.

“I might as well,” he had sighed, sitting on the couch. His cast-ridden left hand (where your name was signed in big bold letters) rested beside him on the arm, “I can’t do much with only one hand.”

Now, the two of you were laying in bed. It was a hot summer night and your apartment had no air conditioning. Again.

You had fallen asleep in a tank top and shorts, the blankets thrown off of you early into the night. You were spread out on your back, trying to fall back asleep after waking up to the sound of a car honking in the street below. You let out a breath. It wasn’t hot enough to make you sweat through your clothes, but it was enough to be a tad uncomfortable. You turned onto your side to face Jason.

You assumed he was asleep. He was also on his side, facing away from you, shirtless. The expanse of his scarred, bare back on full display for you in the dark room. He had basketball shorts on “for decency”, and had kept the blankets covering his legs.

You watched his shoulders rise and fall with his breaths, convincing you that he was asleep. It put a smile on your face, seeing the usually stress-ridden man so calm, curled up on your bed.

Scooting closer, you reached out a hand. Ever so slightly, you began to brush your fingers along his back. Your fingers dipped and rose with the scars there, pondering them.

Some you knew, some you didn’t. Some you remembered him getting. One made you recall how he laid beneath you, coaching you through stitching him up as he tried to hide the pain in his voice.

The vibration of his grumble made its way through his skin and into your finger tips. “Thought you were asleep,” he mumbled out, voice groggy.

Feeling the guilt, you place your hand flat along his back, whispering, “Did I wake you?”

“No,” he flipped onto his back slowly, giving you enough time to move your hand, “Been awake since that car honked. Was watchin’ the window.”

Maybe he hadn’t been as stress free as you had believed, “It woke me up, too. It’s too hot to fall back asleep.”

He rubs at his eye with his right hand. His left one drapes over his stomach, the cast blending into the shadows, “Felt good.”

You looked up at him, “The heat?”

He chuckled tiredly, turning his head to look at you, his cheek squished against the pillow, “Your fingers on my back.”

You smiled at him. The two of you were still a few inches apart from each other, an unspoken agreement that it was too hot to cuddle.

“Wanna play a game?” You whispered.

He hummed, “What game?”

“Turn back around.”

Jason let out a low grumble, very close to a whine, “Wanna see you.”

You laugh again, “Turn!”

He grumbled again, turning back onto his side, facing away from you.

Your fingers returned to his back, “Try and guess what I draw.”

He stayed still as you moved your finger. You drew a big circle, which was a little shaky wherever your finger collided with a bumpy scar. After completing it, you made quick, straight lines shooting out from the circle all around it.He didn’t speak again until you were finished, “Mmmmh… lion.”

You giggled, “No.”

He let out a fake groan, “Flower?”

You shook your head, the fabric of the sheets and your pillow rustling underneath you, “Mm-mm.”

Jason thought for a moment, “Do an easier one.”

You clicked your tongue, but did so anyway. You swiped the flat of your hand across his back, pretending to erase the drawing, before beginning the new one.

You could hear the smile in his voice, “A heart.”

You couldn’t help but smile back, “Mm-hmm.”

He turned back around, “My turn.”

Now you flipped over, facing away from him as he faced your back. He pushed your shirt up to get to your bare back, his finger beginning to glide along your skin. You laughed as he drew a square, “It has to be more complicated than that, Jay!”

“As complicated as your first one?” He joked back.

“It was a sun. It wasn’t that complicated.”

He pauses for a moment, “It was a sun?”

You laugh, “Yes. Now make a drawing.”

He poked your side a little first before continuing. You almost chided him for drawing another square, but he built off of it. A sharp arch above it, with smaller, indistinct details below the arch, in the middle of where he drew the square.

His hand rested on your waist as he waited for you to think and guess, “A house?”

He leaned in and kissed your shoulder, “You got it, darling.”

You giggled and tried to flip back over again, but got blocked by his chest.

“No more,” he hummed. He nestled his head into your shoulder, pulling you back into his chest, spooning you despite the warmth in the room. “Sleep time.”

You huffed, though unbothered by his cuddles, “You didn’t like my game?”

You feel his smile against your neck, “Loved it. I’m just tired, baby.”

His right hand rests against your sternum. You pick it up, kissing his knuckles, before intertwining your fingers together and placing his hand back down, “Goodnight, again, Jay.”

He smiled, “G’night again.”

…

“Jay it’s too hot to cuddle.”

“Yeah, no, I’m remembering that now.”

Side note: did any of you play this game as a kid? It never had a name, but my mom and i would do it all the time. It was just a question of “can i draw on your back?” Lemme know!

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x gn!reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x m!reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd fic #red hood x m!reader #red hood x gn!reader #red hood x fem!reader #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood fic #red hood #dc #dc fic #dc x reader

[swanhaze]

ON THE BEACH — conrad fisher x reader

warnings: alcohol, swearing, yn is a mess, miscommunication, angst, slight hurt comfort

she stumbled through the sweaty bodies of people, her mind spiraling, the bottle of alcohol feeling heavy in her hand, this past year has been rough for yn, the love of her life dating her best friend, losing the house that she spent all her summers in, the women who was like her second mother dying.

it was bound to happen but it didn’t hurt any less, just like yn finding a full bottle of alcohol on the table and picking it up was bound to happen, hurt people do that sometimes.

the night air hits her when she walked out party, this was exactly what she needed, the late night breeze to bath her and wash away all her stress and hurt.

she lets out a sigh, closing her eyes feeling at peace for second, but that was interrupted when she opened her eyes to see two fishers and a conklin looking at her with not the best looking facial expressions.

“what happened?” she asks, her words slurring together, a product of the amount of alcohol that she’s had in the past hours.

there’s silence for a couple seconds that felt like hours, the six eyes of the three people looking at her in concern, it was obvious that she wasn’t it the right state of mind to be telling her this, especially when yn loved the beach house so much and losing it has been doing a toll on her.

the conklin girl is the first to speak up, “nothing, yn.” she says softly, trying her best to shake up yn, lately anything she says to yn angered the girl lately, it’s not like belly could blame her though.

yn stumbled down the steps, grabbing onto to jeremiah’s shoulder to stabilize herself, “it doesn’t seem like nothing.” she says, bringing the bottle to her lips.

she feels his eyes on her, the older fisher, but her clouded mind tries to ignore it, she can’t be weak.

“it’s nothing I promise.” belly says inching closer to her best friend hesitantly, are they even best friends anymore?, “hey, maybe you should take a break from the drinks.” she says raising her hand to take the already half way done bottle from yn.

yn brings her hand that holds the bottle away from belly’s reach, scowling at the girl, “why?” she asks, “don’t act like you’re a saint Isabel, that’s never gotten drunk before.” yn says implying to last summer.

the taller girl squeezed her eyes before opening them again, “that’s not what I’m saying.”

“that’s exactly what you’re saying.” yn says moving away from jeremiah’s shoulder, she knew that wasn’t what belly was saying, but her drunken mind wanted to pick a fight, something she couldn’t do all year, because she was pretending to be fine.

“because you’re belly conklin.” yn says tauntingly, “the girl that can’t do no harm, the saint that everyone loves, give it up for belly conklin everybody!” yn yells unexpectedly grabbing some attention of some of the people around them, they get waved off by conrad.

Jeremiah puts his hand on yn’s shoulder but she shrugs him off, “but you know who should be called the saint?” she asks sarcastically walking closer to the other girl, “me.” she points to her own chest. “because I never would’ve did what you did to me belly.” yn says tearfully, the hurt from the past year fills yn’s head as she tilts her head back to keep her tears at bay, “I would’ve never done that to you.”

“yn.” his voice fills her ears, a sense of concern is in his tone, it makes her feel weak, something that she never wants to be, but look at her now, drunk and almost in tears.

“what are you talking about yn?” Jeremiah cuts his brother off, but he knows what she’s talking about, everyone knows, all except conrad.

“nothing.” she says mocking the words that were said to her not to long ago, she then smiles her emotions doing a 360, “who cares, let’s have fun guys!” she exclaims, trying her best to take their minds off of the vulnerability that she just showed. “it’s a party!”

conrad finally inches closer to her, trying his best to take the bottle out of the intoxicated girl’s hands, “yn, belly’s right let’s take a break from the drink.”

she pushes his hand away, “no.” she whines stubbornly, backing away from him.

yn brings the bottle up to the sky and smiles, “let’s make a toast guys.” she says stumbling backwards, Jeremiah’s hand finding it’s way to her back immediately.

“let’s make a toast to…” she trails off looking up in thought, before her smile becomes bigger, “a toast to losing the beach house.” she jeered.

belly and jeremiah’s face fall even more if that’s possible at the girls words, conrad shaking his head disappointedly, disappointed that you would say that and even more disappointed that you let yourself get to this state.

she brings the bottle conrad’s face, only for it to be pushed away and she gives him a fake pout, “no toast?” she asks tauntingly.

“suite yourself.” she says brining to bottle to her lips.

she drunkenly walked away and yells out, “you guys are so boring!”, she takes another sip, “I’m going for a late night swim.”

the three watch her figure disappear into the night, “late night swim?” conrad whispers to himself in confusion.

her throat burns as she stumbles through the sand, heading towards the water that replicates a black hole, ready to suck her in.

she take of last big gulp of the alcohol before letting herself lay in the ocean, letting it take her away, only the sound of the waves filling her ears.

she finally feels at peace, she closes her eyes and lets all the hurt, stress and sorrow release from her, the waves wrapping around her like a cozy blanket, cradling her like how susannah would.

just as yn thought she had some peace, she feels herself being pulling from her blanket that is the waves and into the air, “what the hell yn!”

she’s thrown over the persons shoulder and out the water, she already knows who it is, and it’s makes her angry.

“let go of me!” she screams hitting his back repeatedly as he walks out the water, “you asshole!”

she feels herself being thrown on the sand and looks up at the oldest fisher, “why did you do that?” she demands.

“why did I do that?” he asks in shock, before pointing to the ocean behind him, “yn, you could’ve died! I just saved you.”

“I didn’t ask to be saved.” she said stubbornly as she got off the sand and stood up.

“what’s your problem?” he says, it sounds like he’s completely fed up.

“what do you mean?”

“wha-what do I mean?” he asks walking closer to the shorter girl, “yn you’ve been acting different since last summer, all you’ve done is ignore me and if you’re not ignoring me you’re giving snarky marks, you’ve been a brat all year.” he says pointing at her accusingly.

“I have not been a brat!” she raises her voice defensively.

“yes you have!” he yells back leaning down to her face.

“even if I was being a brat I have every right to be!”

“really yn?” he laughs sarcastically, “really? what’s your right for acting like a fucking brat.”

“-because I’m hurt!” she yells over him, pointing at her self, “I’m hurt that you would date my best friend knowing that I was in love with you!” a nasty sob is finding it’s way up her throat, everything that she’s pushed down from the last year finding it’s way up.

he inches closer to her, he looks at her like she spoke another language , she’s in love with him? “what are you talking about?” his voice is shaking, his hands are shaking.

“don’t make me repeat it.” she whimpers, this is what she was afraid off, she lets something out and she can’t stop.

“you’re in love with me?”

“why are you acting like you don’t know?”

“because I did’n-!”

“you didn’t know?! are you serious conrad?” she yells over his yells, “do you take me for an idiot? everyone knows, steven knew, jer knew, taylor knew, shayla knew, your mom knew, belly and steven’s mom knew, my mom knew!”

yn lets out a shaky breath, “belly knew.” she says letting a small cry out, she still can’t believe that her best friend would do that to her. “everyone knew conrad, you had to know!”

he shakes his head repeatedly, bringing her face closer to his chest, “I didn’t know.” he whimpers and repeats himself about ten times as she sobs into his chest. “do you know how hard it was to watch you two? so shameless, it felt like you didn’t care for my feelings at all.” she cries turning her face away, but he cups her face in his hands and turns her to face him.

“I’m so sorry yn, I didn’t know.” he says letting his thumbs wipe her cheeks, “this changes everything..” he trails off, “if I knew I would’ve…”

“you would’ve what!” she cuts him off, pulling away from his grasp.

“yeah you would’ve what conrad?!”

both conrad and yn snap their heads in the direction of the familiar voice.

belly stands in the sand her orange outfit making her stand out, she doesn’t look at yn, knowing she’ll cry if she looks at her broken best friend, “you would’ve what conrad?”

“belly…” he trails off.

“no,no you would’ve what? you would’ve dated yn?” she asks walking closer to the two.

“don’t do that…”

“no,no, you would’ve what? you would’ve dated her?”

“yes, I would’ve!”

belly and yn flinch at his outburst, he would’ve what? “and you would’ve never forgotten her corsage too right?”

yn shakes her head trying her beast to wrap her head around what just came out, the man that she’s been in love with her whole life’s mouth. “I… I need to go..” she says stumbling away from belly and conrad.

“wait yn!” conrad exclaimed reaching out for her.

“I’m sorry.” she says walking away, “I can’t right now… I’m tired.” she then walks into the night leaving her best friend and the love of her life in the beach.

#the summer i turned pretty #tsitp conrad #conrad fisher #conrad x reader #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher x reader #belly conklin #jeremiah fisher #the summer I turned pretty x reader

[stariikis]

a cruel summer with you...

synopsis ; you have always hated riki. he doesn't care about his grades and is only ever good at sports and dance. so why is it that he's gotten into the top class of the level? and why do you, for some reason, take an interest in him?

pairing ; sporty!nishimura riki x academic!reader genre ; one-sided rivalry to lovers, fluff, getting together, oneshot wc ; 2458 warnings ; light kissing

cruel summer, taylor swift

Every time you see the damned silhouette of Nishimura Riki down the hallway, adjacent to the grand doorway to the top class in the level, you start to physically convulse. There’s no end to the numerous ways he gets on your nerves. Maybe it’s the sly remarks he likes to make when he sees you stressing out over your grades. It could very well be the way he saunters into your classroom as if he’s one of the top students too. 

But no, all he has is being the well-known, all-rounded president of the dance club. His grades were decent enough for him to slip his way into the top class, and you have had a one-sided hatred towards him ever since. 

He parades around as if he’s the most popular boy in the whole school (he probably is), and every day without fail he’ll show up with a new racket, ball or the equipment of whatever his newest obsession is. However, what blows you off the most is the fact that, as your seatmate, he and his friends like to disturb you when you’re just trying to study. 

You would be pouring over your Biology textbooks, desperately trying to cram all sorts of structures into your head, and Riki would bring over his basketball friends. Jake and Heeseung, still in their dirt-scarred, rumpled jerseys, would tease you for just the hope of getting a perfect score for it. 

You could be buried deep in your self-made notes, trying to make sense of equations and funny symbols. Riki would stop Sunghoon on his way back to his seat, figure skates slung over his back before the famous skater’s practice. They would proceed to talk loudly about their plans for the next day. And all you could ever do would be to get out of your seat and leave. Of course, Riki never spared you a look as you left. Or that’s what you thought. 

Yang Jungwon and Kim Sunoo are two of Riki’s more bearable friends. They’re sweet and are close to some of your friends as well. But when they look over and shoot you glances that seem to have hidden messages you can’t decipher… you can only squirm uncomfortably.  

“Riki! Pay attention,” you scolded him one day before the Maths exam, pushing the textbook closer to him. He wouldn’t stop teasing you with insensitive jokes. Part of you wanted to storm up to your head teacher and beg for a seating plan change, but the other part of you was used to his insufferable antics. You just bore with the pain and tried to explain one more time. 

It was enough that you were spending precious time trying to tutor this hopeless boy, who could barely differentiate right from left if you asked him on the spot. But you also had to put up with everything you hated about him slowly turning into things that made you more than okay with his presence hovering over you like a guardian angel. 

The burning sensation of his eyes flickering upwards to look at you as you searched for the words to explain why 5x squared should be brought over to the other side of the equation. The oddly attractive way he clicked and unclicked his pen; a concentrated frown taking over his features as he hesitated to write his answer down. 

That was not all. You were trying to ignore the way his knee knocked slightly against yours as he turned back to his own desk with a short nod. Leaning over the worksheet-cluttered desk, he looked genuinely serious for once. It had been a long time since you saw him like this. Actually, it may have been your first time. 

His hair fell over his eyes as he continued to scribble over his textbook. 

Are you happy now? You asked yourself, as you watched him. He’s finally not trying to bother you, or distract you from your studies, or… 

He chewed on his lower lip, tilting his head to the side and staring at the question as if it would give him the answer he needed. At this, you shivered, because this side of Riki was so foreign to you. It was so unfamiliar that you did not feel comfortable. Because why would Riki, with a bunch of rowdy, carefree friends from his dance club, ever turn to a life of books? Even you, who broke down at the first glance of a C grade, had accepted that it’s a sad life. 

When Sunoo walked past your conjoined tables just a few minutes before the bell rang, he shot you a smug look. It sent a small shudder down your spine – something really was up that day. But as you did everything that happened in school, you ignored it and stood up promptly to lead the class in greeting the teachers. 

Now, although it’s an unknown concept to you, you and him are on the borderline definition of friends. You may have sworn deep inside your heart to hate him till the end of time, with his arrogant airs and his constant over-the-top quips. But beneath the careless exterior lays a young boy who just wants to appear older than he actually is. 

At eleven in the night, as you both burned the midnight oil studying for an exam the next day, he quietly confessed that more than anything, he just wanted to look cool. Like his Heeseung hyung who always seemed to ace anything he tried. Like his Jay hyung who was such an inspiration and influence to his style. Like his Jake, Sunghoon and Jungwon hyungs, who were pros in their own sports. Like his Sunoo hyung, who always knew just what to say and how to say it. 

And when you looked up from your messy notes, heart wrenching upon hearing these words coming from someone you hated for the longest time, you could only see hints of sadness dotting his eyes. 

The boy who had utterly ruined your first impression of him by bumping into you without apologising. In a haste to receive the football, he darted in front of you and had you sent to the nurse’s during your PE lesson. The next time you saw him after that was a shy peek of his head into the sick bay. The apology note he wrote was promptly torn up into a million pieces for the trash. 

This boy was struggling in his own ways. He wasn’t untidy and disorganised. He was trying his very hardest to manage all the pieces of work he had overdue and unfinished. The boy you believed used his popularity and luck to squeeze his way into the class. His hard work and efforts were and are still easily commendable. 

Perhaps it’s the reason why teachers are more lenient on him not submitting homework. Maybe it’s why they seem to give him special treatment after he returns from a competition, sometimes victorious and sometimes defeated. 

Today, it’s another late night call for both of your Chemistry exams tomorrow morning. On the other end of the call, Riki is silent – all you can hear are the scratches of graphite probably calculating some form of mass. You look up at your computer screen to check in on him, knowing that today he lost a match as the centre. It is probably the sportsman’s equivalent to failing a subject you normally excel at. 

A sigh leaves him every once in a while, and a hint of blue indicating sound coming from the call flickers in your periphery. At this rate, you can’t focus on your work. You’re scared to ask and at the same time you’re scared to stay quiet. 

“... Are you okay?” you ask tentatively, reaching out to adjust the volume. When Riki doesn’t answer for a few moments, your stomach twists into a knot so tight you feel like choking. 

“I’m fine,” he finally answers, quietly, so soft you can barely hear him. He doesn’t look up from his worksheets, but his shoulders remain slumped and he can’t even meet your eyes for a second. He’s clearly lying and as usual, going to cover it up with a jocular facade. 

“Oh my gosh, yn,” he mutters on cue, letting out a huff of forced laughter. “I think I’m going to fail if you don’t help me.” 

He’s trying to brush it off. You know. You’ve been in his shoes before, in a different situation and circumstance. And the feeling of being at the lowest of lowests is not a pleasant one. “Riki…”

The boy’s smile instantly fades and his gaze darts to the side. “Right. Sorry. Um, I didn’t play very well today.” 

There it is. “Let yourself have a break. You know that you’re doing your best, right?” 

Never in a million years would the you at the start of the year imagine that you would be uttering these words to your seatmate. Sincerely, and you truly mean it. You would never have thought your heart would ache to make his tattered and torn one whole. 

“Right.” With the weight of one word hanging over both your shoulders, you get the feeling that he has more to say that he ultimately never will. “Thanks.” 

You offer him a slight, sad smile in return. After a while of studying and comforting him, you shut off your lamp and bid him goodbye whilst telling him he probably needs to get some rest for tomorrow. The memory of him returning your smile boxily still lingers after you shut down your computer and leave your room. You hate him so much. You hate him for making you feel like you’re not alone in this world. You hate that you see yourself in him and that he makes you feel seen, validated, real…

The next day, you walk up to your seats at the back of the classroom. Surprisingly, Riki’s sitting there before you are, an unusual sight especially since he normally comes in hours late after games. He’s pouring over his own Chemistry notes, the first you’ve ever seen. His handwriting is messy in the pretty kind of way, lacing over the small pages. 

“Riki,” you call him softly, to get his attention. He looks up at you, eyes rounded cutely, and your heart does a small flutter. “Here, this is for you. Are you feeling better?” 

He blinks rapidly as you pull out a small goody bag filled with snacks and candies. And at the bottom, although he doesn’t see it yet, is a note that you’ve poured your heart and soul into. It sounds like a well-obscured confession, and maybe to him it may be, but it’s a thank you for being in my life. Thank you for being here even though I know you probably don’t want to.

Why does he look like he’s never been gifted anything before? His cheeks go red and he looks at you with the happiness of a toddler. Eyes shimmering in the dawn light, he grins. “Thank you.” 

For a moment, the empty classroom goes silent. With a quarter an hour to seven, your classmates are going to start coming in soon, to collectively mug and cry over Chemistry. So before that happens, you clap your hands and point at the bag. 

“Open it now! And read what’s inside!” You babble, taking a seat beside him. Your knees touch again, and he seems to be reading your whole face with his eyes alone, but the adrenaline has you fearless for once. 

He slowly begins to unfold the note you hid at the bottom, an uncertain and suspicious frown on his face. But underneath it, you just know his heart is beating as hard as yours is. As if the anticipation is contagious – or you’re simply an expert empath.

dear riki,

i hate you. 

yes, you read that right. i despise you with every fibre of my being. i can’t take your presence beside me in class, ticking me off with every smart remark you make in the middle of math. i can’t take the way you look at me with hopeless defeat or arrogant victory when you get back from any one of the many sports you play. i hate how talented you are, how cool you seem to me, how much you remind me of me when you tell me what’s on your mind. 

because i worked so hard to get into this class and worked so hard for a reputation of being the best student leader and the smartest girl in school. and you – you seemed not to work at all. you would walk into this classroom like you owned it. and i hated it. 

until i started to like it. 

i liked the way you smiled. i liked the way you teased me. i liked the way you rolled your eyes when you saw me fretting over physics yet again. what made me change my mind, you ask? well, a small glimpse into your life shows me you do work hard. you probably work twice as hard as i ever can and will. i like that. 

and as much as i never say it, i like you. 

When Riki’s eyes reach the bottom of the square-shaped paper, you see him start to tear like never before. It scares you to the core. You have never seen him so emotional. 

“You’re joking,” he laughs boyishly, running a hand through his hair and looking at you. Is this the first time you have seen his cheeks so rosy and vibrant, the first time you’ve seen his eyes squinted in such joy? “You are joking right now.”

“I’m not,” you smile back, “rea–” 

And he interrupts you by leaning in and kissing you, sweet and gentle and shy just like all the other times he’s ever interacted with you. He gets up from his seat and leans on the back of yours for support. You can feel his smile against your lips, genuine and real for the first time in forever. It feels new yet it feels like solace. 

“You’re the class president,” he whispers in the intimacy of both your gazes. So close yet so out of reach. His hands shake and he cradles the top of your head hesitantly. “and I’m the boy who does anything but study. Why me?”

You hum and shrug your shoulders. “You’re the sportiest boy I know, and all I ever do is study so I can be the top student. Right back at you.” 

The giggle Riki lets out before he leans in and kisses you again will remain forever engrained in your mind. 

“i love you, ain’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?”

thank you for reading! please please please do send me feedback and share your opinions! i would love to hear you guys in my asks n dms as well ;) have a good day everyone!

more of my works >

#stariikis #enhypen #nishimura riki #enhypen riki #enhypen x reader #nishimura riki x reader #enhypen niki #nishimura riki x you #riki x reader #nishimura niki #niki fanfic #niki fluff #enhypen riki fanfic #ni-ki au #ni-ki #ni_ki #ni-ki x reader #niki x reader #enhypen au #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fic #niki imagines #riki x you #niki x you #ni-ki x yn #riki fanfiction #enhypen x y/n #ni-ki x y/n #ni-ki x you #ni-ki fanfic

[bubblebbg]

would you be able to do a Miguel x f!reader where the reader is a civilian who's the sunshine to his grumpy? She's pretty much the definition of the quote "the violence it took to be this kind". She had an abusive childhood, and unfortunately she's currently up in an abusive relationship, she tries really hard to hide her pain with warmth and laughter, hiding her bruises with long sleeves in the summer and concealer.

This is my first request, I'm so happy! I wasn't really comfortable writing the physical abuse part (I don't want to misrepresent this issue) , so I've made it to where the reader is in an unhappy relationship instead. I hope this is along the lines of what you wanted. :)

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞.

Miguel O'Hara x reader

To him, you're one of those people that deserves better, deserves the best. Today especially, that's what you should be getting. If Miguel could, he'd hand you worlds on a silver platter. But he can't. Not with your boyfriend around to stop him.

Part 2

"Your boyfriend is the biggest asshole I've ever met. Come on, you have to know this by now." Miguel has pulled you to the balcony of your apartment and away from the music and festivities, his jaw clenched with anger as he seethes. He's never liked your boyfriend; there's you, the sweet, kind woman who's always considerate, endlessly patient, practically saintly in nature. And then there's your boyfriend, some scum of the earth who's only ever been callous and cold during your interactions. Miguel has tried and tried and tried to keep his mouth shut about it, but the way your smile faltered as you explained that he couldn't take off work to be at your birthday party is his last straw. "Seriously, today of all day's he has to work? Say the word and I'm sending that douchebag flying through a wall-"

"Miguel, stop it. It's fine, he's just a busy guy you know? And I'm sure you throw enough people around already." You chuckle, but the sadness doesn't quite leave your eyes. You sip some of the champagne in your glass, sighing as you let the alcohol numb some of your senses. Looking out at the cityscape, arms folded on the railing. He really wishes you knew how much you deserve, and the selfish part of him wants to be the one to give that to you.

When you catch him staring at you, at the way the lights of the city glow on your face, he turns forward, sighing and running a hand through his hair. "I just don't get it is all. You could have anyone you wanted, why him? Hell, you're better off alone than with him. If I could make the decisions for you, he would've been gone a long time ago."

You step closer to him and rest your head on his shoulder, eyes closed and the champagne drained from your glass. "I know you're concerned about me, but in the end these decisions are mine to make. I'll talk to him after the party. Until then, how's everything at work? Still got a lot on your hands?"

A smile plays at his lips, feeling a bit warm from the touch. "Hey, don't go changing the subject on me. We need to talk about this."

"You change the subject on me all of the time! Humor me on my birthday, please." He rolls his eyes because he can't believe that you'd play the birthday card on him, but he also knows he can never say no to you. Not with the way you look at him. So he puts an arm around your shoulders and lets a breath out his nose.

"Still stressful, but not so bad. I guess your whole 'have meetings to help people with their mission strategy instead of just yelling at them' plan has been working." You laugh at that, eyes crinkling as you lean more into him. You look good like this, the cheery person you usually are, not the one being let down by their partner. "See? And how hard was that? If I had spider powers like you, I'd be the ultimate diplomatic leader and badass." He can't stop the laughter that bubbles up in his chest when you punch and kick the air to emphasize your badassery.

"Your form is terrible," he smirks, "You'd be dead in seconds."

"And if it weren't for me, every spider ever would have quit because of your nagging."

"Right, right, whatever makes you feel better, civilian."

This is how it's supposed to be, the way it was before you decided to date this guy. It was always you and Miguel before: him carrying all of your grocery bags as you raved about some new hobby, you and him on the roof of your apartment building, him pointing out flaws in a movie at the theater while you ate all the popcorn, him begrudgingly pushing you on a park swing despite his assertations that you were in fact too old to still do this. It hits him all at once. He's missed you. Your absence leaves gaps in his life that no one else can fill.

"Hey," he mumbles, "I know you said you didn't want any gifts, but I got you something. Happy birthday."

Your eyes widen as he timidly hands you a rectangular box, his gaze turned to the city and a light blush on his face. He watches through the corner of his eyes as you open it. Inside is a silver necklace with a lily-of-the-valley preserved in resin, the flower you told him about that grew around your childhood home. Your palm comes to cover your mouth and tears well up in your eyes at the considerate nature of his gift. (That's Miguel, always remembering the details of things you say. When was the last time your boyfriend did that again?) Miguel turns to face you with an anxious expression. "Do you not like it? I left the receipt in there, you can return it and use the money on-"

"No, no, no, it's beautiful," you smile, turning and lifting the hair from your neck, "Could you please put it on me?"

He sighs in relief, taking the necklace and clasping it gently around your neck. As soon as he's done you jump into his arms with a delighted giggle, beaming with joy. He lets himself hug you back for a few more seconds before setting you down. Seeing you like this has his heart racing as he's filled with the courage to say it, to tell you what you mean to him. He opens his mouth to speak and -

Someone shouts through the sliding doors of the balcony, "Hey, where have you been? Get inside, your boyfriend just got here!"

And just like that, the courage is gone, his mouth closing to a slight frown. As he's preparing to go back in and stomach the sight of you with that man, he sees you climbing the steps of the fire escape and stops at the door.

"What are you doing?"

You stop, turning to look at him with the breeze at your back and the moon shining on you. You offer your hand to him.

"Come on, let's go. We can sit on the rooftop like we used to."

He pauses, taking a look at the party inside. Then he takes your hand and you're leading him up like you used to, and everything that was out of place in him shifts back to fit. He smiles at how small and smooth your hand is in his larger, rough one. Yeah, he thinks.

This is how it's meant to be.

#across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o'hara fluff #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spiderman x reader #astv #beyond the spiderverse #spiderverse #spiderman: across the spiderverse

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Sad Conrad request. Surprising him at the beach house and being there through the hard moments with his mom

Grab your tissues, this is a sad one

Warnings: mention of cancer/death

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’She won’t get better. It’s too late,’’ a crying Conrad said through the phone one late evening of May.

You sat up in your bed, giving him your best attention as your heart clenched.

These past few months, Susannah had been trying a new treatment for her cancer. She initially didn’t want to do it, but she would do anything for her boys. It’s been tough for her and the boys, physically and emotionally, but Susannah was a fighter. If she could beat cancer once, she could do it again, right?

Today, she had an appointment with her oncologist to see if the treatment was working. Conrad had been very stressed over it, calling you more often just to hear your reassuring words. You stayed optimistic for his sake, but you couldn’t lie to him. There were chances the treatment did not work.

‘’S-she’s gonna die.’’ His voice cracked at the last word, causing a tear to slip down your face.

That night, you almost booked a flight to Boston just to hold him in your arms.

*

When June came, you all went to Cousins’ beach for the last time. The last summer, her last summer.

On the day of the Fishers’ arrival, you sat on Conrad’s perfectly made bed and waited for him to walk through his door. It felt strange to be alone in their holiday house. Susannah had helped you plan the surprise for Conrad, mailing you a double of the keys a week before their arrival. He had been taking care of her so well during her treatment, she wanted to thank him in a special way.

You heard the door open downstairs, Conrad and Jeremiah’s voices soon filling the house. A know formed in your stomach, excited and nervous at the same time. Susannah’s voice mixed with the two, asking Conrad to take the bags upstairs.

The stairs creaked under his steps, listening as he took his mother’s bags to her room first, then his own. You held your breath as you saw the doorknob turn, soon revealing the boy you had missed so much with one bag over his shoulder and his suitcase in his other hand.

A mix of complete surprise and confusion spread on his face when he saw you sitting there on his bed.

‘’Hi.’’ You stood and a smile curled on Conrad’s lips for the first time in a while.

He dropped his bag and the suitcase’s handle and rushed over to you, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you from the ground. You wrapped your own arms around his neck as your legs did the same to his waist, finally in each other‘s hold.

‘’What are you doing here? You said you wouldn’t be here until Sunday.’’

You pulled back slightly, pushing that one piece of hair from his pretty eyes. You missed him and the soft smile he only kept for you. ‘’I drove here two days early to surprise you.’’

‘’Consider me surprised,’’ he said, closing the space between you and kissing you for the first time since spring break. Without breaking the kiss, Conrad took you to his bed, toppling on it in a mess of tangled limbs. ‘’How did you get in? Did you pick our backdoor?’’

‘’Susannah.’’

His eyebrows drew closer. ‘’My mom?’’

You nodded.

For a very short moment, Conrad was happy. And it was all because of you — with the help of Susannah.

*

As the summer went by, and Conrad was turning into a shell of his person. He was barely ever leaving the beach house or his mother’s side, wanting to spend as much time with her as possible before the end.

Since her last scan, the cancer had spread. She was getting more sick each day, becoming more tired and frail every time you saw her. Her blond hair was gone, replaced by a bandana that covered her bald head.

It was sad to watch.

‘’I hate to make this all about me, but who am I supposed to talk to? What am I supposed to do if my mom’s not there?’’ Conrad asked one night you were sitting on the back porch, his feet dipped in the pool water.

‘’You can talk to me. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.’’ You put your hand on his shoulders and he started to sob as you felt your own tears blurring your vision.

‘’She’s too young to die. She’ll never come to my college graduation or Jere’s high school graduation.’’

A few weeks later, you and Conrad were watching a movie in the living room, when Susannah came to get a glass of water. Conrad had fallen asleep against you, too tired to stay up late like he used to these days. You asked if she needed your help, but she smiled and said she was okay.

Before going back to her room, she came to the living room and put her hand on your arm. ‘’Thank you for being there for Connie. He doesn’t say, but he’s taking it the hardest. When I… He’s gonna take it the hardest.’’ She looked down at her son, a sad smile on her lips and tears welling in her eyes. ‘’Please take care of him.’’

*

When Susannah took her last breath, the weather was gloomy and dark outside, reflecting perfectly the feeling of the coming weeks.

You got the call at 3am and drove down to Boston, to the Fishers’ home. A red-eyed teary Jeremiah answered the door. You gave him a long hug, then headed to Conrad’s room. Laurel and her kids were there, all grieving the loss of a close friend — a non-blood-related family member.

As you entered Conrad's room, the somber atmosphere weighed heavily. The curtains were shut, plunging the room into semi-darkness, illuminated by the smallest crack of light coming from the top of the window. On the bed was Conrad, still in his clothes from last night, crying in silence and holding the old shark plushie his mother got him as a child. It had seen better days and was missing one eye, he hadn’t let go of it since coming home from the hospital.

His shoulders stiffened when he heard the door opening, about to rudely shoo out whoever had come to check on him, but relaxed when he saw you. Your hair was gathered in a loose ponytail, strands framing your face, and your shirt was an old one of Conrad’s, but none of that mattered to him. There was no one else he wanted to see beside his mom than you.

Lifting his head from the shark plushie, the steady flow of tears on his face. breaking your heart. His blue eyes, once vibrant, were now red and swollen from hours of crying, just like his brother’s.

You opened your mouth to speak, but words seemed inadequate in the face of such profound loss. So you said nothing.

You laid with him on the bed, wrapping your arms around his shoulder and pulling him into you like you had done these past months. The second his face met your chest, his sobs filled the room, finally allowing himself to let go now that you were there to catch him.

Rare were the times you had seen Conrad, but it was heartbreaking every time. You rubbed circles around his back and rested your cheek on his head, feeling his tears soak your shirt as he cried, silent tears falling from your own eyes.

You stayed like that for what felt like hours — just the two of you laying on his bed. Laurel didn’t bother checking on him, knowing he was well taken after with you. It was a weight off her shoulders, one less thing she needed to worry about.  

As the night was starting to fall outside, you felt Conrad's breathing even out, telling you he had fallen asleep. You didn't know how long he had been up for, but he must've been exhausted — in every way.

You carefully reached out to grab the soft blanket from behind him, trying to not wake him, but Conrad tightened his grip on you as he sensed your movement, afraid of losing the anchor that kept him grounded. 

‘’Don’t leave me too,’’ he mumbled, his voice so small and weak you didn't hear it.

You stayed still, frozen by his words. The vulnerability in his voice pierced your heart, and you realized that even in his sleep, his fear of abandonment lingered. 

Gently, you brushed your fingers through his hair, softly whispering back to him in reassurance.  ‘’I'm not going anywhere. I promise. I'll be right here when you wake up.’’

You vowed to be there for him, to support him through the darkest hours of his journey, and you planned on keeping that promise you made to Susannah, even if it meant staying up all night holding him or skipping a few days of classes at college. 

With great care, you shifted your position, sliding out from under him just enough to reach the blanket. As you draped it over both of you, he instinctively clung tighter to you, seeking the comfort of your presence.

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully @aerangi @hallecarey1

#conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher fanfic #conrad fisher x you #the summer i turned pretty #the summer i turned pretty imagine

[luvhu9hes]

Part of Me QH43

You had been in love with your best Friends brother for as long as you could remember. So much so he was a part of you.

Word Count: 3.3K

Warnings: SMUT 18+ Minors DNI, oral (f receiving), not proofread, I think that's all of it please lmk if there's anything else.

This is only my second fic i've actually posted, if you like it please let me know. Also this is kind of rushed at the end, but I'd be stressing about this for over a week so hopefully i've done it some justice. Anyways I love all of you who take the time to read my work! Go Canucks and all that jazz.

Summer was quickly approaching in Ann Arbor Michigan, and you were all but prepared for your trip to the lake house this summer. Every summer for as long as you could remember was spent at your best friend Luke’s family lake house. Your mom and Ellen Hughes (his mother) had met their sophomore year in college from playing on the women’s hockey team together. Their friendship had continued over the years and became even stronger when they became pregnant around the same time having you and Luke only a week apart from each other (him being the older of you two).

You and Luke were destined to be best friends, practically inseparable. Always going to the same schools, hanging out daily, becoming part of each other's families. Growing up with Luke meant growing up with his older brothers; Jack and Quinn as well. Jack was like an older brother to you, always being so protective over you. Even back when you were in elementary school, Luke’s other friends would tease you about being a girl and having cooties. After Jack had threatened them, they never bothered you again. Quinn was a different story, you had always had a little crush on him, (you’d never admit that to Luke, but it was true). Even though you had been so into him, he had never seemed to reciprocate your feelings, making you feel like his younger brother’s annoying best friend. For years you tried to get over your crush on Quinn Hughes, but to no avail, your heart still belonged to him even at the end of your sophomore year of college. You knew deep down, he would always be a part of you.

Always going to the same schools with Luke led you to where you are now, at the University of Michigan, sitting in your dorm room, clothes scattered everywhere. It was the end of the term, and you were meant to be leaving for the lake house in a mere 5 days, but excitement filled your mind. You were excited to be reunited with Luke, considering you hadn’t seen him in over a month due to him leaving for Jersey to fulfill his lifelong dream of playing in the NHL with his two older brothers. Though you were extremely proud of him for all of his hard work and accomplishments, you still missed him more than anything, having never spent this much time apart from him.Even though you were excited, the mere thought of spending another summer around Quinn had your stomach in knots. The two of you kept contact throughout the years, even with his busy hockey schedule and your school schedule you still made time to stay in touch. You weren't sure if it was your imagination, but something felt different about this summer, even if you weren’t quite sure what it was yet.

The drive to the lake house was peaceful as you listened to music and traffic was low. As you got closer to the lake house the more free you felt. All of the stress of the school year slowly leaving your body and the relaxation of summer being let in. Luke had texted you the day before that he and Jack were on their way, considering it took far longer to get to the lake house from Jersey. You had expected to be the first one there as you usually were, but to your surprise, there was already a car in the driveway when you had pulled up. It was not a car you had seen before, both Quinn and Jack had gotten new cars since the last time you had seen them, but considering you hadn't heard anything from Luke since yesterday you had a very strong feeling that it was Quinn's.

You entered the house voicing a quick “Hello?” announcing your arrival to whoever was in the house. At the sound of your voice a very tousled looking Quinn came rushing down the stairs to greet you. The sight of his messy brown hair and bright but tired eyes brought a smile to your face. Your smile was contagious as it brought one upon his face just before he engulfed you in a bone crushing hug. The hug was comforting, like coming home after a long time away, but that didn't stop the feeling of butterflies from erupting throughout your stomach. “Hi Quinn” your voice came out barely above a whisper, being slightly muffled against his chest. “Hey y/n/n, long time no see huh” he jokes. You can't help but chuckle at him as you begin to pull away. Though, Quinn clearly wasn't ready to pull away, as he pulled you back in and gripped you tighter than before. The slight action had you flushing and you were grateful he couldn't see your face at that moment.

Finally as the two of you pulled away, Quinn spoke up asking “Have you heard anything from tweedle dee and tweedle dumb? They haven't said a word to me since they left Jersey yesterday.”  The old nickname had you grinning as you responded “No, I haven't heard from them since about the same time.” 

“Well then,” Quinn smiled, “it looks like it's just you and me for a while.” You were sure he didn't mean to sound so suggestive when saying that, but that didn't stop the warm feeling you got from his words. Your time together was slightly awkward at first given the fact that you hadn't truly seen each other in a year, but as the minutes passed the awkwardness subsided and you both began to grow comfortable in each other's presence. Conversation came easily with Quinn, talking about anything ranging from your favorite music to how life at U of M had been. It shocked you how comfortable talking to him was, because even though you had grown up around him, Jack and Luke had always been there as a buffer, even when you had wished they hadn't. After about an hour of talking with Quinn you heard the familiar sound of another car pulling into the gravel driveway announcing the arrival of Jack and Luke.

Quinn and you immediately hopped up heading towards the door to meet the two boys. You were surprised when Luke dropped his suitcase bounding towards you before spinning you around in his arms. The suddenness of it all caused you to burst out with a pure laughter having missed your best friend so much. You and Luke had missed the look Quinn had given the two of you, but Jack sure didn't, smirking at the look of jealousy on his big brother's face. 

“Let he breathe Lukey” Jack spoke teasing his brother “not all of us have had the chance to say hello to her yet” Jack had finished his thought as he pulled you out of the other boy's grasp enveloping you in a hug of his own. Luke pouts as his best friend is stolen from a grasp, crossing his arm as he speaks up. “Last time I checked she was MY best friend, not yours” His whiny tone elicited a laugh from all of you as you pulled away from Jack.

“Oh Lukey, you don't know how much I've missed you.” Noticing Jack's smile falter at your words you spoke up again “before you say anything, I missed you just as much Jack” your words caused a giant smile to break out on the two boys faces.

After you all spent some time together catching up, you had excused yourself up to your room to begin unpacking for the summer. Your room was just as you left it, your bed made nicely and littered with stuffed animals from fairs and arcades that you had collected over the years. The walls were covered in pictures that seemed to show the story of you growing up, with photos of you at your first birthday party leading up to a photo of you and the Hughes boys last summer. That newest photo was your favorite, it was taken your last day of the trip when Ellen and Jim had stopped by, you were on Luke's back smiling as widely as your face would allow, while Jack was trying to act all cool for the camera. Your heart always seemed to stop whenever you looked at Quinn in that picture, he was wearing just a pair of swim trunks, showing off his toned body, but that wasn't what caught your eye, it was the way he had looked at you and Luke, he had so much admiration in his eyes, and if you didn't know any better, you would've believed that look was pointed at you and you only.

You're broken from your train of thought by the sound of a knock on your door. You muster a quick “Come in” expecting to see Luke, and are pleasantly surprised to see Quinn. “Hey Quinn, what’s up?”

“Nothing I just wanted to spend some time with you, I don't see or hear from you as much as the others do” Quinn admits rubbing the back of his neck.

“To be fair Quinn I you've never made me feel like you wanted to talk to me so I’ve given you your space.”

“I always want to hear from you y/n/n.”

Quinns confession has your heart beating faster in your chest, so much so that you're almost certain he can hear it from across the room.

“Yo- you do?” you struggle to form the words as you try to process what Quinn just said to you.

“Of course I do, I care about you, I want to know what's going on in your life, hell I want to be a part of your life, and not just in the summers.” his eyes are watching you so closely, as if he's trying to read your mind, trying to know your every thought. Your mind is running a million miles a minute as you try to think of a response, as you try to pinpoint the context for which he's saying these things.

“What do you mean Quinn, you are part of my life, you always have been” you finally utter out.

“I mean..” he says as he steps closer to you grabbing your hands “I want to be in your life as more than just your best friend's brother. I want to be the first person you talk to when you wake up in the morning and the last person you talk to before you go to sleep. I want you in the stands of my games cheering me on. I want to spend more time with you than I get, whether that means me coming down to Michigan, or you coming up to Vancouver. I want to be with you y/n. I’m so in love with you, and I have been for years. I can't keep that to myself any longer.”

Never in a million years would you have expected that from Quinn. You stared at him in such awe trying to figure out if this was real or some cruel prank the boys thought would be funny. And as if he knew exactly what you were thinking, Quinn speaks up again

“I know you weren't expecting this from me, I wasn't expecting it either, but after we spent all of that time talking before Jack and Luke got here, and after I saw how touchy Luke was with you, I just knew I couldn't hide this anymore.

After you still hadn't responded, Quinn began to panic a little.

“y/n… please say something.” That was all it took for you to snap out of the trance you were in and respond.

“Quinn, I’m so in love with you. I have been since I was eight years old and you held my hand after I had scraped my knee open. I've tried for years to push my feelings down for the sake of Luke, but also because I never thought you would be interested in me. I've never seen you as just ‘my best friend's brother’ , you're so much more than that to me, and I want all of those things too.”

The second those words left your mouth, Quinn wasted no time grabbing your face and bringing your lips to meet his. At first you were shocked, but you were quick to kiss him back as this has been something you had wanted for years. The kiss was full of passion and promise. Years of pining being made up for by one breathtaking kiss. You only pull away when you're both out of breath, leaning your foreheads together. It's in that moment you remember one detail. Luke.

“Quinn?” you ask, breaking the silence, only receiving a hum in response. “What are we going to do about Luke? How are we going to tell him? Are we even ready to tell him?” you start to ramble, leading Quinn to cut you off with another kiss. This one is much shorter than the last, as he begins to speak “Let's not worry about Luke right now hm? We can focus on us for now and tell him, and everybody else when we're ready. Okay?” The look in his eyes is so comforting, it genuinely has you questioning if you'll ever be able to say no to him. You know deep down you won't, which is why you say “Okay.”

So that's what you did. You and Quinn spent the whole summer focusing on your relationship by keeping it to yourself. That consisted of sneaky make out sessions in dark corners of the house, sneaking into each other's rooms in the middle of the night, holding hands under the blankets during movie nights, and sneaking glances that lasted longer than they should have. It sucked keeping such a big secret from your best friend, but you weren't ready to tell him yet, and you were enjoying your time with the man you loved.

Summer had come to an end much faster than you had ever expected, and that meant you would all be going back to your regular lives soon. You were worried about what that meant for your relationship with Quinn, being new to the whole long distance thing, but you were hopeful nonetheless. Today was the last day you would all be together, and you wanted it to be memorable. Luke had decided that going out to the local club would be the best way to spend your last night together, and of course Jack agreed 100%. 

That's how you ended up here in a crowded sea of people cradling a vodka cranberry trying to make your way back to the booth the boys had saved for all of you. You hadn't even made it more than three feet away from the bar when a hand was grabbing your wrist. Turning you come face to face with a strange man who's very clearly drunk. You try taking your wrist back, but his grip only tightens and he speaks up in a dark gravelly tone “What's the rush doll, I jus’ wanna dance” his words slurring as he speaks

“I don't think my boyfriend would like me dancing with you, i’m trying to get back to him if you don't mind” you tried to stay calm as you tried pulling your wrist free again, his grip bruising now.

“You don't have to lie about having a boyfriend doll, if you don't want t’ dance jus’ say that”

before you get the chance to respond you feel an arm wrap around your waist and hear the voice of your boyfriend say “She doesn't want to dance pal, leave my girl alone before we have problems” 

My girl, even though you knew you were his girl the words still sent butterflies to your stomach and a heat down to your core. At the sight of your boyfriend, the creep lets go of your wrist putting his hands up in surrender leaving you and Quinn alone. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” Quinn practically screams, trying to speak to you over the music. It doesn't take you more than a minute to respond with a yes. The two of you find Jack and Luke and tell them what happened and that Quinn had offered to take you home, and let them enjoy the rest of their night. Luke was worried and didn't want to leave you alone, but you managed to convince him to stay and have fun.

The ride back to the lake house was torture. Quinn's hand rested on your thigh while his other gripped the steering wheel, and he was drawing shapes into your skin, his hand occasionally going higher messing with the hem of your dress. He knew exactly what he was doing, though it was the slightest of touch, it still had you squeezing your thighs together. You glanced over to look at him seeing the mischievous smirk on his face. Shaking your head you tried not to focus on his touch and focus on the scenery on the drive back (it didn't work.)

The second you had made your way into the lake house Quinn was on you. His lips attached themselves to your neck leaving open mouth kisses and nibbling just below your ear eliciting a gasp from your mouth. You turn around in Quinn's hold bringing him in for a needy, almost desperate kiss. His tongue running against your bottom lip requesting access, which you'd be crazy to refuse him. He slips his tongue into your mouth massaging your tongue with his, as his hands start to explore your body. You break away trying to catch your breath as you grab his hand dragging you up to your room. You attach your lips to his again once you're in the safety of your room, hands reaching up to unbutton the slutty black shirt he was wearing. No matter how long you had been with Quinn, you still got nervous in intimate situations like this with him causing you to have shaky hands. You could feel him smirk into the kiss at the shakiness of your hands, as his own reached up to slide the straps of your dress down your shoulders. He was pleasantly surprised to find out you weren't wearing a bra, groaning into the kiss as his hands groped your breasts nimble fingers flicking over your nipples. The sensation had you pulling away from his lips letting out a low moan, spurring him in further as he lowered his mouth taking your left nipple into his mouth. Your hands made their way into his hair holding him to your chest, Quinn backing you up until your knees hit the bed causing you to sit on the edge of the bed. Lowering himself in front of you, Quinn looks into your eyes looking for permission as he hooks his fingers into your panties, you mutter out a quick yes and he wastes no time pulling them off and licking a long stripe up your pussy. The sensation has you arching your back lacing your fingers through his messy brown hair. The only noises that can be heard through the room are the pornographic moans and groans coming from you and Quinn as well as the slick sound of Quinn eating you out. It doesn't take much more before you're coming undone on Quinn's tongue as he helps you ride out your high. You and Quinn spent your last night together, sanctifying your love for each other and cherishing each other's bodies as much as you can before you get separated. 

Nothing could ruin the bubble of bliss you and Quinn had made for yourselves. Or so you thought until you were woken up in the morning by the sound of “WHAT THE FUCK” causing your head to shoot up to see your best friend, whose eyes are locked on the sight of you and his older brother laying naked in your bed.

This was not how you wanted him to find out.

Fin

#quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes #jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #hockey smut #vancouver #vancouver canucks #hockey imagine

[finalgirlfae]

Can you write something where reader meets Mile’s parents for the first time as his gf?And they get along well:,))

meeting the parents, miles morales

genre: fluff

pairings: miles morales x fem reader

summary: you meet miles’ parents as his official girlfriend for the first time

notes: in my head the reader is afro latina like miles, and also my spanish is rough so bare with me for a second. also since people love to argue with me; before y'all start yes i know what the song is about🤗

“MILES i’m shitting bricks right now i’m so nervous.” you spoke to your boyfriend over facetime. two and a half months on a random new york city rooftop while the sun set, miles had asked you to be his girlfriend- officially. the two of you had been talking for about two months before he asked and now it was time for inevitable turning point in every relationship; meeting the parents.

you should be happy you made it this far! guys suck, but guys in new york city? they sucked even worse. so to meet a great guy who really liked you and wanted to introduce you to his parents was a major win. but there was a feeling eating at you, one that terrified you. what if his parents didn’t like you?

“what if i call platainos plantain and she tells me to get out of her house? i’m so scared-”

“baby, baby,” miles spoke from the phone on your dresser. you could hear the bustle of city traffic around him. “tómalo con calma mami, okay? you gotta relax.”

“tómalo con calma” you mimicked, “miles how can you tell me to take it easy? this is literally more stressful than our chem test last week.”

you heard miles wince over the phone. “you’re that nervous? yikes.”

you ran over to your phone and picked it up in panic. “what do you mean yikes??”

“nothing. look i’m outside, buzz me in.”

you sighed and walked out of your room to the living space, pressing the buzzer to open the door. miles would be up here in a minute and then you’d be on your way to meet his parents. his mom was making lunch for everyone.

you moved over to the mirror in your living room and gave yourself a good look, you didn’t want a single hair out of place when you met them. it was a warmer summer afternoon with the sun high in the sky, not a single cloud was in sight. to compensate the hot weather, you wore a faded green tank top with butterflies decorated on it with a clear quartz crystal necklace and denim skirt. your hair was in a ponytail, coils bunched tightly together and edges laid perfectly. you went over to the kitchen, opening the fridge door and getting the small bouquet of flowers you had bought for miles’ mom. they were pink and yellow tulips; her favorite according to miles.

when the door bell run you walked over, opening it to reveal your boyfriend. “hey baby.” he spoke, stepping into the apartment.

“hello my love.” you wrapped an arm around his waist, bringing the boy closer to you and leaning up on your tippy toes to give him a soft kiss. he smiled down at you, wrapping arms around your body and bringing you into another kiss. when you both pulled away he looked you up and down. “you look beautiful baby, those for me?” he joked, pointing at the flowers.

“thank you but no.” you gave him the flowers to hold and slipped on some air force ones, “these are for your mom.”

he gave you a big smile, kissing your temple. “that’s so sweet! very thoughtful, baby. she’s gonna love them- and you, let’s go.”

you couldn’t even respond before miles hand was wrapped around your wrist, tugging you wearily out of your new york city apartment. he barely gave you enough time to grab your purse before you two were walking down the street to the 2 train. five stops later you were walking out the station and to his apartment building.

“miles i’m scared.” you grimaced as you made your way into the elevator. he held your hand, giving it a gentle and reassuring squeeze. “there is nothing to be afraid of mi querida.”

“qué pasa si a ellas no les gusto?”

miles only sighed at your question. “ellos van a. even on the impossible chance they don’t it wouldn’t matter to me, i like you.”

a small smile spread on your face. “you know you’re so corny right? you got no game.” you laughed as the elevator dinged and the door opened.

“yeah but i still pulled you didn’t i?” he asked, smirking to himself and holding your hand as you walked down to his apartment. your heart was beating out of your chest.

“aye aye,” miles turned to you. fuck, you forgot he could hear things like that. “mi amor, estará ben. breathe, okay? they’re just people.”

“yeah cariño but they’re your people. it’s important to me how this lunch goes.”

he smiled and kissed your cheek. “me too. let’s go.” miles used the hand that wasn’t in your to find his keys. he unlocked the door, pushing it open and stepping inside. immediately your nose was hit with the smell of delicious food. there was music playing from the stereo under the tv, a song you recognized.

"mom, dad! estamos en casa!" he called out as he stepped out of his shoes. you did the same and hung your purse on a coat hook before taking the flowers from miles, he had held them on the way over.

a few seconds later his parents walked into the living room. miles nudged you and you walked over to meet them. "mom, dad, this is my girlfriend. y/n."

"hello." you smiled. "it's nice to meet you lieutenant and mrs morales." you shook his dad's hand before turning to his mom. "mrs. morales, these are for you." you handed her the bouquet and watched the smile spread on her face as she took them. she brought you into a hug, "it's nice to meet you too sweetheart, i've heard a lot about you."

when you two pulled away from the hug you could almost feel miles' smile, he knew that she'd like you. “y/n why don’t you sit down and miles you come help me bring the food out.”

“i can help you, ma’am."

she looked at you for a second before nodding. "thank you! the kitchen's that way." she pointed. you nodded and began walking. rio turned to look at miles, mouthing "she's very pretty" before following you into the kitchen. when you were both there miles and his father walked to set the table.

"so.." miles began. "what do you think?"

"i'm happy she's not white." his dad laughed, smacking his arm and making miles give him a face. he knew he was talking about his past situationship type thing with gwen. "come on dad seriously, what do you think of her?"

his dad placed down four glasses. "i think she's very nice, very pretty and well mannered. nice job."

you and rio walked back into the kitchen, both holding pots and pans.

"what did you make mami?" miles asked, pulling out a chair for you. when you sat down he smiled and pushed it in before sitting next to you. across from you two were his parents.

"i made mofongo, arroz con gandules, alcapurrias and some tostones. oh, and for dessert i made some quesitos."

"i love quesitos!" you exclaimed. she smiled at you. "i know, miles told me. you're panamanian, right?" she asked, sitting across from you and beginning to serve you some mofongo.

you nodded, thanking her and placing a napkin on your lap. "yeah, on my dad's side."

"what does your dad do?" lieutenant morales asked as he began to eat.

"he used to work nypd but he retired a few years ago, 20 years."

his dad nodded, seeming impressed.

as you began to ease into their presence, you eased into the conversation as well. everything felt so natural and soon all your fears were alleviated. miles parents were really nice and also funny as hell. besides that they were genuinely good people and you could understand why miles turned out to be the wonderful person he is. he had great role models.

as the meal winded down miles mom brought out two dozen fresh baked quesitos with powdered sugar on top. "careful." she said to you. "you might have to fight miles for them. his appetite has been insatiable lately."

you and miles both looked at each other, stifling laughter. just as you were about to respond the stereo distracted you.

un matrimonio africano esclavos de un el les daba muy mal trato

ya su negra le pegó español

"oh my god." you spoke standing up. all three of them looked at you. "what?"

el les daba muy mal trato y a su negra le pegó

"me encanta esta canción!" you grabbed miles' hands and pulled him into the living room.

y fue allí, se reveló el negro guapo tomó venganza por su amor yaún se escucha en la verja no le pegue a mi negra

as the music played, you and miles began to salsa dance around the living room. "you know for a superhero who's thing is being acrobatic, you're a surprisingly bad dancer." you teased, making sure to whisper.

no le pegue a la negra no le pegue a la negra

oye man no le pegue a la negra

miles sucked his teeth, "my thing is webs."

you gigled, "i bet you shoot them out your trasero."

"man shut up." miles laughed, grabbing your hands and doing a roomba as he spun you, "see," he asked, hands going back to your waist, "i ain't too bad."

lleva la cadena lleva la cadena

"you stole that move from me!" his dad exclaimed, pulling rio in by her waist and beginning to dance beside you two. the rest of the night was filled with dancing, laughter and conversation. it's safe to say miles' parents liked you, and that'd you'd be welcome for many more meals at the morales house.

#fluff #miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #miles morales #request #faes requests #across the spiderverse

[babybluebex]

def write more best friends dad!cillian orrrr maybe you can dip ur toes into dads best friend!cillian??? i feel like that would be awesome!

here you go, lovelies, the long awaited dad's best friend!cillian! enjoy! warnings for smut (oral f!receiving, fingering), age gap (cillian is 46, reader is in her 20s)

The moment you surfaced from the water, you felt his gaze on you. You had known Mr. Murphy for years, for long enough for him to insist that you call him Uncle Cillian (although you didn’t,  but you were never sure why), and his bright blue eyes were hard to miss, especially when they were fixated on you.You swiped the droplets of chlorinated water from your eyes as you looked around for him, dodging the various people that were in your backyard. It was a hot Saturday evening, and your parents were putting on a little summer party to celebrate you being home from college; of course, Mr. Murphy was invited, and you had briefly greeted him when he arrived a few hours before, before you got in the pool. But now, you felt him watching you, and you found him standing by the back door that led into your kitchen.

You watched as he averted his eyes, obviously having been caught looking, and he slipped inside your house quickly. You scrunched up your eyebrows in confusion at his hasty exit, and you swam to the edge of the pool, tugging yourself up and out. Your towel laid nearby, and you quickly dried off and wrapped it around your waist as you padded barefoot by your dad. “Don’t track water into the house,” he told you as you passed, and you absently nodded, still intent on following Mr. Murphy inside. 

You found him all alone in the kitchen, standing with his back to the door, leaning against the island, sipping at his beer. He had his phone in his hand, scrolling too quickly to really be looking at anything on his screen, and you purposefully opened the fridge louder than usual to get him to look at you. “What’re you doing in here?” you asked playfully when he looked at you, his paralyzing blue eyes scanning your body, from your soaked hair to the almost-too-small white bikini top you wore. “Don’t you know the party’s out there?”

Mr. Murphy shrugged. “Got hot outside,” he said. “And I know where your dad keeps the good beer.” 

You nodded, not really believing him, and you pulled out a can of soda and shut the fridge door with your hip. “Well, wearing sweaters and shit probably doesn’t help with the heat,” you said, reaching out for the corner of his navy cardigan. “You should’ve brought your swim trunks, you could’ve gotten in the pool with me.” 

“Ah,” Mr. Murphy scoffed. “Nobody wants to see me parading around in my bathing suit. I’m too old and out of shape for that.” 

“As if,” you said. “You look fine, don’t stress too much.” 

“Thanks, love,” Mr. Murphy said softly. “Sorry, I’ve just… Ever since the divorce, I haven’t really felt like myself.” 

Ah, right. The divorce. Your parents and The Murphys had been friends since they were your age— you had seen the scrapbook pictures of college-aged versions of your dad and Cillian getting up to no good— and you had to admit that you were always a little closer to Aunt Yvonne (not to say you didn’t like Mr. Murphy, because you did, but you always liked Aunt Yvonne more). When you were at college and your dad offhandedly mentioned on the phone one night that Yvonne and Cillian were separating, you had frowned. “Is Yvonne okay?” you asked. “What happened?” 

“I’ve only talked to Cillian about it,” your dad had told you. “And he hasn’t said much. People just grow apart, I guess.” 

You screwed up your mouth at the mention of the mysterious divorce, and you popped the tab of your soda. “That’s okay,” you told him. “You just need to find someone new.” 

“Really?” Mr. Murphy asked. “A rebound? Is that how you deal with breakups?”

“Well, yeah,” you shrugged. “Whenever I get sad about my ex or whatever, I just go find someone else to focus on for a little while.”

“First of all, that’s not healthy,” Mr. Murphy chuckled. “Second… I don’t know, I was married for 20 years. I have two kids. I can’t just go find a girl at a bar and hook up with her and expect to get over it.” 

“I don’t know, man,” you mumbled. “Just trying to help, I guess.” 

“I appreciate that,” Mr. Murphy said. “You’ve always been a sweet girl.” 

Oh. Oh no. You felt a stirring in your lower belly when he said that, one that made heat flood your bikini bottoms, and you shifted your weight on your feet as you nervously sipped your soda. You had to admit that Mr. Murphy, with his high cheekbones and greying hair and brilliant eyes, was quite attractive, exactly your type, and you had considered fucking him before, but, because of Aunt Yvonne, you had pushed down that desire and pretended it didn’t exist. It was just a fantasy about your dad’s best friend; that wasn’t that uncommon, was it?

“So,” he started before you could think anymore. “How’s college?” 

You shrugged. “Fine, I guess,” you said. “Classes are okay, but exams are hard as hell.”

“Oh, yeah?” Mr. Murphy said softly. “Any boys catch your eye?”

“Honestly, not really,” you said. “They’re all kind of… Eh, I guess. I don’t like any of them the way I—” You cut yourself off before you could finish your sentence, the way I like you, and you stammered, “I-I should.” 

“What’s wrong with them?” Mr. Murphy asked. “I mean, I know college boys can be dumb, but what’s wrong?”

“They’re just not mature enough,” you said softly. You set down your drink and wrapped your arms around your middle, and you added, “I don’t want to worry that my boyfriend will do some stupid shit on a night out. And they just, umm, don’t do things the way I want them to.” 

Mr. Murphy wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion, also setting down his drink, and he leaned his hip against the kitchen island. “What do you mean?” he asked. 

“Well…” you started. “Boys my age don’t, like… Whenever I’ve hooked up with a guy, I’ve always asked him to do certain stuff, and he never does. At least not well.”

“Wait,” Mr. Murphy said. “Are you telling me that the boys you go out with don’t go down on you?”

Your skin prickled at the sound of those words coming out of his mouth, and you eyed him suspiciously before you cleared your throat. “Um, not really,” you said. “Like, they do it, but never well.”

“Oh, darling,” Mr. Murphy sighed. “You need to find a really good guy that’ll do that. And he’ll treat you like the princess that you are; don’t ever let a man do anything less.” 

You huffed out a laugh. “Thanks, Mr. Murphy,” you said softly. 

He smiled softly, tilting his chin down to look at you, and he said, “Now, how many times have I told you to call me Cillian?” 

Your heart skipped in your chest, and you mumbled, “A-A few.” 

“And yet, you don’t,” Cillian said. “Why not? You called my wife Yvonne, why not me by my name?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “I never felt like I was close enough to you to really… Deserve to call you that.”

Cillian took a step towards you, then hesitated, then reached out for you. You expected him to grab your hands or touch your shoulders, but his fingers tucked in the towel around your waist. He waited for a moment before he slowly unraveled it from your body, and his eyes hungrily took in the sight of your legs. “Wow,” he whispered. “I knew that you would be so beautiful…” 

“Cillian?” you said gently, nervously looking over your shoulder to the outside door, where everybody else was still outside. “Wh-What if someone sees?” 

“Sees what?” Cillian asked. He set your towel on the counter, taking a step closer to you. “We’re not doing anything.” 

“Yeah, but…” you started. “But—”

“If you want me to do something, all you have to do is ask,” Cillian told you. “But ask nicely.” 

You swallowed thickly. “I-I don’t even know what I want,” you told him. “I’ve thought about this, sure, but…” 

“Do you want me to go down on you?” Cillian asked. “Just say the magic word, love.” 

You blinked, fluttering your eyelashes at him, and you softly said, “Please?” 

Cillian’s face softened, and he took your hips in his grasp, pulling you close to him. He gently moved you to the counter and helped you jump up on it, and he buried his face in your neck and took a deep breath as his fingers danced at the ties on your bikini bottom. “Sweet girl,” he whispered. “How long have you wanted this?” 

“Umm…” you started, and your breath caught in your throat when he deftly undid your ties, pulling your wet bottoms from your skin. “A long time.”

“Yeah?” Cillian breathed, and he carefully moved down to kneel on the ground in front of you, his face level with your pussy. You felt almost shy as he looked at you, and you wiggled on the countertop as his dull fingernails pressed into the flesh of your thigh. “And how long has it been since you’ve had sex?” 

“A few weeks,” you told him. “I haven’t since I moved back home.”

“Oh, you’re dying for it, aren’t you?” Cillian cooed softly. “Your little vibrator isn’t enough, right?” 

“No,” you breathed. Cillian leaned forward and littered soft kisses on the inside of your thighs, coming close to where you wanted him but never landing exactly there. He was teasing you, the bastard. Your hand left the counter and curled in his salt and pepper hair, urging him closer to your pussy, and he smiled, looking up at you with those brilliant eyes. You felt shocked, like his gaze was electric, and Cillian sighed heavily, focusing back down between your legs. 

“You’re so pretty, baby,” he whispered, his warm breath fanning across your core. “My sweet girl…” Then, before he could say more, he pressed forward, touching his lips to your pussy. You jolted in surprise, letting out a quick laugh to try to ease your nerves, and he chuckled lightly. “You alright?” 

“Yeah,” you said softly. “Just… Nervous.”

“Why’re you nervous?” Cillian asked, smoothing his hands up your legs to rest on your back. 

“If someone catches us—” you started, and Cillian furrowed his eyebrows, shaking his head. 

“They won’t,” he told you. 

“But if they do?” you countered.

“But they won’t,” Cillian said firmly. “Ease up, love, just enjoy this. Let me take care of you.” 

“O-Okay,” you said softly. Your fingers rested against the back of his head as he continued to kiss all over you, and he finally put his mouth right where you wanted him to, almost like you had led him there. His tongue darted out to taste you, playing gently with your soft clit, and you closed your eyes blissfully, letting the wet warmth of his mouth overtake you. “Fuck, Cill…”

“That’s it,” Cillian whispered, and his lips captured your clit, sucking on it for a brief moment, just long enough for you to moan softly, and he broke away. His tongue ran a thick line up your wet cunt, tasting you from throbbing hole to quivering clit, and he went back to your hole, teasing you with the tip of his tongue. 

You clenched your teeth to keep from being too loud, and you watched Cillian eat your pussy like he was starving for it, lapping up your wetness and sucking eagerly at every inch of flesh that he could get his mouth on. He held you tightly, yet tenderly, wanting all of you that you would give him, and the warmth of an orgasm began to build in your belly. God, that was quick, but you suppose that Cillian had years of experience. He knew what he was doing, far better than any kid from your sociology class could do. “Cill,” you whispered, and he looked at you through his eyelashes, shocking your system again. “Fuck!” 

“What is it, baby?” he asked softly. His fingers itched to your pussy, lighting trailing up and down your slit, and you whined as you felt an intense and sudden need. 

“Want you,” you mumbled. 

“What do you want?” Cillian asked. 

“Anything,” you panted, jolting your hips again at his light teasing. “Everything.” 

“Unless you have a condom,” Cillian started with a laugh. “I’m not having proper sex with you. I’ll do this and finger you and everything else, but…”

“Why not?” you asked. “Are you worried that I…?”

“No, I’m not worried about that,” Cillian said. “I know you don’t have anything, it’s not that. I just… I don’t want there to even be a chance that you could… That we could…”

“I don’t understand,” you said, looking down at him through half-open lids. 

“I don’t wanna knock you up,” Cillian said quickly, as if saying it quickly would lessen its impact. “And I’m not going to fuck you if I don’t have a condom, because, once I get inside you, I know I won’t be able to control myself from cumming inside you.” 

“Oh,” you said softly. “It’s not a… An Irish Catholic thing?”

That made Cillian laugh. “You know, just because ‘Irish Catholic’ is a thing doesn’t mean that all Irish people are Catholics—”

“No, no, I know,” you said quickly. “Sorry, just checking.”

Cillian smiled softly, laughing gently at you, and his fingers gently touched your hole, waiting for you to do something in response. You sighed, flexing your hips down to urge his fingers inside you, and he did as you requested, pressing his middle finger past your flesh and inside you. You gasped at the feeling, loving him so deep, and you mumbled, “Cill…” 

“I know, love,” Cillian said, placing a soft kiss to your clit. “Does it feel good?”

“So good,” you whimpered. Cillian began to slowly thrust his finger inside you, moving gently as he sucked lightly on your clit, and you gasped quickly. “Cill! Oh my God!”

“That’s it, lovely,” Cillian said. He pushed his second finger in, pausing to let you adjust to the feeling of it, and then he started up a relentless pace, fucking you quickly on his fingers as his mouth and tongue explored your pussy. “God, you’re so tight, s’good…”

The heat inside you was becoming too much, tingling even down in your toes as it grew in your belly, and you whimpered and let out a cracked moan as his fingers hooked up inside you, brushing that sensitive nerve. “Cill!” you yelped, your hand flying down to grab at his wrist, as if that would stop his quick fucking. “Oh my God, I’m gonna cum!”

“Mhm,” Cillian hummed, burying his face fully into you. “Let it out, baby.”

You whined high in your throat, everything becoming all too overwhelming, and your legs shook as the heat burst in your belly. Your head fell back as you moaned, maybe a little too loud, and Cillian fucked you through it, whispering out “Yes, love, you’re so good, you’re such a good girl for me.” You tugged on his hair as your orgasm crashed through you, trying to keep him right where he was but also pull him away all at the same time, and Cillian smiled into your pussy, letting his tongue linger a bit at your throbbing hole. “Now,” he started softly. “Was that better than what you’re used to?” 

“Yeah,” you sighed. You looked down at him, still kneeling on the floor, and you brushed back his hair out of his eyes gently before he started to stand up. “Thanks.” 

“Of course, love,” Cillian said. He grimaced a bit as he stood, mumbling out something about that damn knee, and he added, “When’re you going back to university?” 

“Not for a few months,” you said. “It’s summer break.” 

“That’s nice,” Cillian said. “Well, erm… I’d like to see you again.” 

“Oh, yeah?” you chuckled. You slid off of the counter and retrieved your bottoms, and you did the ties back up as you tried to stand on your shaking and weak legs. Jesus, he really did a number on you. “When?” 

Cillian took his drink back into his hand and sipped at it for a moment, thinking hard. “Well,” he began. “Whenever you’re free. I’m at your mercy, love.” 

“Right,” you said, laughing softly. “I’ll let you know.” 

At that moment, the door to the backyard creaked open, and your heart stopped as your dad came into the kitchen. “There you two are,” he said. “I thought you were still outside.”

“No, I cornered her to ask about school,” Cillian chuckled, and he looked at you. “Remember what I said: school first, parties later. Right?” He winked at you, and you huffed out a laugh. 

“Yeah, sure,” you smiled. “Whatever you say, Cillian.” 

#bex answers #anon ask #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy rpf #dad's best friend!cillian

[kentosbabes]

Reformed Playboy Gojo? Yes, please!

Playboy BF Gojo loves to spend, he had a spoilt childhood with his parents catering to his every need. You can see this in your relationship with his need to spend money on you all the time. At first, you felt uncomfortable, it felt too much like charity, but he wouldn't take no for an answer, it started off with large things, like an actual car for your birthday when you complained about how hot public transport was in the summer and an apartment in your name just because.

Playboy BF Gojo never would have pictured himself being so domestic with you, he was a total player. Went out all the time, so much so that the bars and clubs all knew him by name. Women fawned over him, and even some men. His phone had women saved under numbers and addresses, #25 Downtown blondie.

Playboy BF Gojo met you at his parent's company, you worked as the head of secretarial duties and were under the direct supervision of his father. His father was fond of you and your work ethic and often wondered where he went wrong with Gojo who was the complete opposite of you.

Playboy BF Gojo had a discussion with his father and mother about the future of the company and whether or not he was going to settle down and provide some heirs, Gojo adamantly refused the idea of having an arranged marriage with some uptight virgin that his parents wanted him to breed and pop out an heir and a spare. Instead, he told them that he was in a relationship already, you.

Playboy BF Gojo brought the idea of fake dating up to you whilst you were on your lunch break, you choked on some air and he handed you some water, ever the obnoxious man "I know I am a catch but please don't lose your breath over me," you rolled your eyes and resolutely told him absolutely not. You were happy at your job, and you finally got that promotion you have been dying for, why would you risk that to satisfy some rich guy who could easily get someone else to do this?

Playboy BF Gojo took to showing up every day for work to hang out with you, he would begin the day by giving you your coffee order- did he memorise that? and sitting down at your desk until you give him attention. He is an attention whore to the max, god forbid you to be busy with your actual job, he would just be in a strop and be sulky for the rest of the day. "Ever heard of deligating, hm?" Gojo has never in the history of his entire life ever been at work for this long, he even learnt some things about the company's management and general business like the major acquisition that he wouldn't have known about if not for you being stressed about.

Playboy BF Gojo hates seeing you stressed, he understands that you have work to do, but he doesn't understand your love for your job and your colleagues. His father pulled you into an emergency meeting and you left at 10 pm, but you left with a smile. You were shocked that he waited for you but when you asked about it he simply rolled his eyes and told you to hop onto his motorcycle. Dropping you home and waiting till you headed in through the door.

Playboy BF Gojo was making you feel quite confused, he was acting out of sorts by being so thoughtful. The small things were making you blush and have butterflies in your stomach, god you were giggling to yourself after you closed the door on him. You guys have been getting closer and closer and you could honestly call him a friend. Gojo is much more than that playboy persona he uses to drive people away, he's thoughtful and kind.

Playboy BF Gojo is possessive, you could equate this to his childhood, he was never one to share toys as an only child with a silver spoon in his mouth. So when he walked into the office with your morning coffee and saw you laughing at a joke one of your male subordinates was making and saw his hand on your shoulder, he saw red. It wasn't like you were dating but you were his, everyone knew that. So is it any wonder when he staked his claim to you with no words but pinning eye contact with the man?

Playboy BF Gojo deleted all the women off of his phone with no thought, blocking all the persistent ones. You started to notice a change in his behaviour, the usually arrogant and quite honestly annoying man became slowly a kind and sincere person who respects you.

Playboy BF Gojo took you out to get dinner, he was nervous. That sent alarm bells to your head, Gojo nervous? Impossible, his conceited exterior obviously wasn't working today. But then he surprised you with your favourite flowers and a heart-wrenchingly beautiful note to accompany it. He grinned and told that's not all and pulled out of his pocket a rectangular velvet box, you look up at him and he hands it to you, it was a diamond necklace. Understated, despite his love for being extra, it was wonderful. Gojo asked you out sincerely and you accepted his hand.

Playboy BF Gojo was nervous before your first kiss, it was illogical he's done a lot more than kiss other women, but with you it was different- he's never felt so in love, it was suffocating to him. He leaned into your face and looked at your lips, then your eyes and back to your plush lips, as if to ask for permission. Gojo pressed his lips to yours in a practised fashion, turning his head and pushing further into you to discover all the crevasses in your mouth.

Playboy BF Gojo loves seeing become undone by his actions, you really were a blushing virgin when it came to him. He came out of the shower shirtless, wearing just a towel. You followed a drip of water down the middle of his abs, pausing to look at him with a shit-eating grin adorning his face. You loved the little things like him wearing a long sleeve shirt and pulling the cuffs to his elbows so all you can focus on for the day are his forearms.

Playboy BF Gojo was gentle, it wasn't your first time, to say the least as much as he likes to make fun of you. You were incredibly nervous that he wouldn't enjoy it, you rationalise it by thinking that he used to enjoy the club nightlife and have had many sexual encounters with different women. He made it a point not to hide anything from you because he had faith that no matter what you would respect that it was in the past. But you can't help but feel out of your depth, he moves with a swiftness that only proves how experienced Gojo is.

Playboy BF Gojo used a lot of foreplay, making sure you were comfortable with everything he was doing before he actually did anything. Ensuring you were ready, he leaned into you, his breath tickling the nape of your neck, "I'm going to fuck you so well you lose all your inhabitions and by the end of all this the only thing you will be asking me is for more."

Playboy BF Gojo loves to give you good aftercare, he likes to do the works, bubble baths with expensive aromantic oils he bought just for you and massages with your favourite lotions he took note of the last time he stayed over at yours.

Playboy BF Gojo doesn't like being called a playboy anymore.

Playboy BF Gojo only likes to go by your BF Gojo.

Masterlist

#jjk headcanons #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo headcanons #gojo fluff #gojo x you #gojo imagine #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo hcs #satoru jjk #satoru x reader #domestic fluff

[peachesofteal]

Dead Disco / Chapter 3

Dead Disco masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 2.8k words - A03 Warnings-tags: 18+ Minors DNI, established throuple, relationship issues, eating issues, depression, anxiety, angst, reader is bad at feelings, caretaking, bathing, blow jobs, face fucking, praise kink, emotional hurt/comfort. The guys find you at the hotel.

When you open the door, Johnny’s heart breaks. 

It’s obvious you haven’t been well. The circles under your eyes are sickly and off color, worse than when you stay up to wait for them to get home, and you look weary, overwhelmed, exhausted. Your hair is stiff, pulled out of your face but heavy around your forehead, and your skin is dry, an easy tell that you haven’t been drinking enough water. Johnny suspects that your clothes are dirty as well, judging by the stain on the front of your shirt above your breasts, and his heart skips when he realizes it’s his old t shirt, the one you usually wear around the flat. It all makes Johnny’s head spin, makes him feel like he’s got a thousand pounds sitting on his chest and when he looks closer, he can just see the broken capillaries spreading across your cheeks like spider’s webs. Did they do this to you?

“Oh, love.” He whispers. Your eyes water, and he feels the weight of his own fear, his own sadness tenfold. You’re hurting. You’re hurting so badly. How did they not see this? 

“Let us in.” Simon demands, and you chew on your lip. “Please. Whatever it is, we can fix it darling. Just let us in.” Simon’s voice softens, slipping into something he only reserves for you, and Johnny reaches for your hand, it’s ice-cold chill startling against his own.

When you don’t pull away from him, a small seed of hope blooms in his heart.

Something wakes him from his sleep. Maybe it’s the low drone of the television from the living room, or the fact that the middle and left sides of the bed are completely empty. He sits up, groggily, straining to listen, but all he hears is the laugh track of a sitcom. 

When he enters the living room, he raises an eyebrow. Simon is sitting in his boxers, on the floor, back against the couch, remote in one hand, and your hand in other. Your fingers look so small intertwined with his, your arm draping down over his shoulder from where you’re lying on your belly, mouth open, dead asleep. He rubs his eyes. 

“What’s this?” He keeps his voice low. 

“She couldn’t get back to sleep. Didn’t want ta wake you, but she was keepin’ me up, thrashing around.” Johnny frowns. He traces a thumb across your forehead, moving a stray piece of hair behind your ear. Simon strokes his fingers up his thigh, rubbing the back of his leg, his skin hot in the thick of the summer night. He glances at the clock on the stove before settling on the rug too, notching his head next to your arm, and Simon shifts to accommodate him before turning to press his lips against his forehead. 

“Was it a nightmare?” 

“She’s still havin’ em.” Simon whispers, and he leans to pull him closer. “Didn’t want to talk about it.” He sighs. 

“What’re we watchin’?”  

You settle on the edge of the bed, pulling your knees up to your chest, eyes unmoving from the floor. Simon stands against the dresser directly in front of you, arms crossed, body stiff and thrumming with concern, strung tight with stress. The room is quiet, lit only by a small lamp that you have flicked on, and he tries not to look too closely at anything, at this place you’ve been living in when you should have been at home. 

“Love?” Johnny clears his throat, sitting down next to you, tilting his head to catch your gaze. He avoids looking at your blood crusted cuticles, or the crescent moon marks that are imprinted in your palms. “When was the last time you ate?” You shrug.

“Yesterday.” Simon shifts his weight, as in tune to the waver in your voice, the tell of the lie, as Johnny is. He shoots Johnny a look, before going down on a knee in front of you, hands gentle, a palm cupping your calf and giving it a squeeze before releasing. You don’t pull away. A knot of tension releases between the two of them.

“Will you tell us why you left?” Johnny tries to keep from pleading, but he knows he will beg you if he has to. Beg you to tell him why, beg you to come home, beg you to let them back in. Your eyes dart back and forth between them, your fingers nervously pulling at the ends of your hair, and Simon cuts him a stern look, a very clear message: Slow the fuck down. Don’t push her. Tears drip over your cheeks onto your knees and then your voice cracks.

“You were g-gone for almost thirty days. What if, what if you never came back? What if you just picked up and left? Started over? You ha- have each other… you don’t need me.” A chasm splits open inside Johnny, splintering across the three of you, the weight of your fear and doubt bubbling to surface, pushing past the truths they’ve worked so hard to make you see.

“We could never do that. You’re a part of us.” Simon’s tone is serious. 

“You mean the world to us, darling. We don’t want to live in it without you.” Johnny says, fingers grazing along your shoulder.

“Don’t lie.” You croak, and he frowns.

“He’s not lying.” Simon says but you don’t respond.

“We love you.” Johnny whispers, and your eyes slam shut, tears spilling out between your lashes. “You know that, don’t ya?”

“N-no.” you cover your face with your hands.

“Yes, you do.” Simon pulls one of your hands away from your face, taking it in his own. “I know it’s hard, when we’re away-”

“No you don’t!” you sob as you cut him off. “You have each other! You always have each other. I f-feel… I feel like I’m on the outside.” Your breath hitches. “I always feel like that.” You tell them miserably and Johnny’s heart breaks for you.

“You’re supposed to talk to us, when you’re feelin’ bad about things.” Simon’s voice is gentle, as he tries to soothe you, tries to ground you. “Look at me, darling.” You turn your head, eyes up and full of trust, searching between the two of them.

You still trust him. You still trust Simon. There’s hope. 

“I know.” You whisper.

“It doesn’t work unless we’re honest, and we tell each other how we’re feeling, even when it’s like this.” Johnny keeps his tone soft, but it’s heavy with emotion, drowning beneath your own sadness, the feeling of your despair.

"I know that. I do… but it doesn’t change anything.” Panic erupts through his veins like he’s been doused with cold water. Doesn’t change anything? Doesn’t change what? That you left? “It won’t change the fact that I’ll always feel like this… like I’m separate from you.” You blink furiously, tears trickling down your cheeks, chest heaving with shallow breaths, and Johnny feels like he’s been punched in the gut.

“Alright, darling. That’s okay.” Simon settles you, and Johnny gives him an incredulous look. Alright? Alright?! On a base level, he knows what Simon is doing, but it does nothing to quell the storm of feelings rising inside of him. They could lose you. What if they can’t fix this?  “Johnny’s gonna get ya some food.” He grimaces and pulls his phone free to search for the room service menu, looking for something that will be easy on your stomach without overwhelming you. “D’you think you could manage a shower while we wait for it to be brought up?” He holds his breath. You could say no. You could tell them to get out. It took your deepest level of trust, to let them care for you like this, and in this moment, it felt like it wasn’t there.

When you don’t say anything in response and nod instead, he lets the air leak from his nose slowly.

“A bath.” You whisper, eyes still trained on the floor. You look at them intently for a moment before you get to your feet without another word and disappear into the bathroom. When the door clicks shut, Johnny whirls.

“I want to take her home. She’s not thinkin’ clearly.”

“We have to go at her pace, you heard what she said.” Something sad flickers across Simon’s face before he smooths it away. “She needs time, to remember. That’s all.” He tries to reason, and Johnny knows he’s right, but he can’t fight the burning sensation in his chest when he thinks about how you’ve been alone, in this room, for the last week and half, falling apart without them.

“Si. She…”  He doesn’t have to finish the sentence.

“I know, Johnny. I know.” His partner’s fist is clenched around the balaclava, eyes tight with worry. They both look towards the closed door, and then Johnny glances down to the glaring light of his phone.

“There’s no soup.”

“Toast?”

“And a fried egg, if she can get it down.” Simon gives a curt nod of agreement, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get it sorted. Yeah?” Johnny presses his nose to Simon’s neck and takes a deep breath to steady himself.

“Yeah.” He motions to the bathroom. “Join ya in a minute.”

By the time he has the food ordered, you’re already sitting in the tub, water thundering from the faucet, knees pulled back up under your chin, skin dotted with goosebumps. There’s enough room for him to get in behind you, like he usually does, but he doesn’t want to push you, so he reminds himself to be patient. Simon is sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, murmuring something softly that you’re occasionally nodding at until you speak.

“I’m sorry I scared you.” You croak.

“It’s alright, darling. We’re just happy you’re safe.” Simon reassures, and when you don’t say anything else, panic swirls in the pit of Johnny’s stomach. Be patient. He needs to be patient. 

He can be patient, but he doesn’t have to fight fair. Not when it comes to you.

“Can I wash your hair?” he asks you sweetly, and you nod almost immediately. Later, he hopes, once you’ve pulled out of this and you’re all together again, you’ll give him shit about using your weakness against you like that. He hopes. 

You tilt your head back eagerly, eyes slipping closed while the tips of his fingers massage your scalp, and he alternates between soft and firm pressure, making sure he gets the lather as deep into your roots as gently as he can.

“I missed you.” It’s barely a whisper, a light whistle on your lips, but they both hear it, and Simon reaches for your hand, large fingers folding over yours, his touch gentle and slow while Johnny rubs the pad of his thumb along your shoulder blade before he speaks.

“Not as much as we missed you.”

“Oh shit.” You giggle from where you sit between Johnny’s legs and he presses his palm to your mouth playfully, lips grazing along your shoulder. Simon’s footsteps thunk down the hall, his voice calling both of your names. 

“Shhh.” Johnny murmurs, the warm bath water wrapping the two of you in a soft, sublime feeling that’s gone straight to his head. When the bathroom door swings open, you raise an arm like you’re dancing, and beam. 

“Welcome home!” Johnny tries not to laugh at the serious expression on Simon’s face, and he snakes an arm around your middle to pull you all the way back into his chest. 

“Having a relaxing day?” Simon dead pans, and you nod, back of your head against Johnny, face turned upward to stare at Si who’s dressed in uniform, no doubt completely exhausted after a long day of travel to the ‘local’ office and back. Water beads off your skin when you push off from Johnny to rise to your knees, and he can’t help but reach out and trace a line across your hip while your palm slides up the front of Simon’s pants, leaving wet spots in its wake as you lick your lips. Johnny leans all the way back, fitting into the curve of the tub, arms on either side, and watches you pull the zipper down to free Simon’s cock from his briefs. When you glance back at him, he gives you a smile in return, excitement settling in his stomach as he watches you, his own hand sinking beneath the surface of the water to palm his cock, his eyes never leaving where you’re stroking Simon, your head tipped backwards and eyes up. 

“Darling…” Simon grunts, the word a harsh exhale, and your mouth cracks into a smile where you’re wrapped around him, your tongue flat against your teeth, jaw relaxed as you work. His hand drifts down to the top of your head when your lips part around length of his cock and a shiver runs down Johnny’s spine, the weight of love, of adoration vibrating in his bones.

His. This was his. You were both his. 

Your free hand reaches for him in the water, and he laces his fingers in yours with a reassuring squeeze before sitting up on his knees himself, his body pressing against you, gentle fingers wrapping around your throat to still your motion. 

“Hold still, darling.” He coaches, reaching for Simon’s belt loop to pull him closer, folding his grasp along his hip until he’s pressing into the back of your mouth. “Fuck her throat, love. That’s what she wants.” You try to nod enthusiastically, and Johnny chuckles, brushing a kiss across your cheekbone. “Isn’t she sweet?” He asks, and Simon’s hand tightens in your hair, just a tad, enough to hold you steady as he begins to rock his hips back and forth. “That’s it.” He encourages, hand never leaving Simon’s hip, the other still gently cradling your throat. He talks Simon through it the entire time, his own cock hard against the curve of your ass, his thumb occasionally smearing across your lower lip. “Fuck, Si.” He marvels, “Doin’ so good for her. Givin’ her what she wants.” He releases Simon’s hip and strokes a finger down your lower belly and across your thighs before teasing your clit, and your breath stutters through your nose when he presses against the swollen bud, your body tensing against his. He noses along your jaw while he works your clit in a circle, matching his rhythm to Simon’s pace. You make a strangled sound in your throat when Simon slows, and Johnny smirks, mirroring the speed until you’re whimpering, throat stuffed full and your thighs trying to rub together around his hand. He’s not going to let you come, not yet, so he pulls away and you whine, eyes widening in protest, but you stay steady, jaw lax to accommodate Simon, and Johnny praises you. “Good girl. Takin’ him so well.” Simon grunts, and then his mouth drops open as his hips begin to thrust unevenly until he’s coming, a little moan slipping from you when he spills down your throat. 

He bends to kiss you afterwards, swiping his tongue into your mouth, lavishing you slowly until you’re pulling at his belt loops again. 

“Want to get in?” 

“You know I won’t fit, darling.” He perches on the side of the tub, leaning down to brush his lips against Johnny’s, fingers dipping into the heat of the water. 

“Well?” Johnny prompts, and Simon grimaces, watching you as he speaks. 

“Tomorrow. Sixteen hundred.” He feels your muscles go tense, your languid state draining from your body, tension running through you in its place. He squeezes your arm affectionately, pressing a kiss above your ear. 

“It’s alright, love. Won’t be too long.” 

“It’s the apartment.” You say quietly from where you’re now laying on the bed, wrapped in a robe with your hair twisted into a towel. You eye the pieces of toast that are on the tray with a sigh. He holds one out to you, like an offering, and your lower lip trembles. “My stomach hurts.” you protest.

“I know it does, love. But you’ll feel better after this, I swear it.” Your hand reaches for his, and his heart soars, but he tempers his relief quickly. “Please? For me.”

“What about the apartment?” Simon interrupts and a shadow moves across your face.

“It was yours, before. It feels like I don’t belong there, sometimes.” Like you don’t belong? The contrast startles him, forcing his spine straighter and he considers your words. How could you possibly believe you don’t belong? 

“Then we’ll get a new one.” He blurts, without even fully thinking it through. He only knows he’s desperate to reassure you, desperate to show you that they’d do anything for you. Your face shifts, from forlorn to hopeful, surprise crinkling the corners of your eyes as you glance between them.

“We’ll get a new one.” Simon agrees, and Johnny presses your knuckles to his lips. “You do belong, darling. You belong with us.”

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