#(also yes I know that’s not the song name but it gets the point across better verses Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hxney-lemcn · 2 months

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Crushcrushcrush — Ranpo Edogawa x gn! reader

summery: a simple deal turns into more as reader and Ranpo become closer.

tw: idk if it should be counted as objectification but Ranpo refers to reader as a treat (this is all sfw)

a/n: idk how I feel about this, what do y'all think? (title is a song)

wc: 1.6k

Master List

“I have an offer,” You stated, dragging a lone chair to sit across from Ranpo’s desk. A bored look painted the young detective's face, mindlessly rolling a lollipop over his tongue. Although he didn’t move, his eyes watched you with slight interest.

Recently Ranpo seemed less and less inclined to do his work. It shouldn’t bother you, he wasn’t your responsibility…well at least when it came to his paperwork. Yet a nagging feeling tugged at you as his pile of work grew, less and less cases likely to be solved. The closure for someone’s loved ones or the safety of others relied on the whims of a childish detective. It didn’t feel right. So, when you were overthinking this problem only you seemed to have for the past week, you believed you came up with a bulletproof plan.

“I’m listening,” Ranpo hummed.

Running over exactly what you wanted to say, you brought up a deal he couldn’t pass, “If you solve 10 cases every work week then I’ll treat you to whatever you want as long as it’s ¥4,500 or under. I’ll keep track of your monthly average, and if you exceed 40 cases solved in a month I’ll treat you to something worth ¥10,000. What do you say?”

There was a pause as Ranpo considered the pros and cons of this deal, and skeptically he asked “What do you get out of this?”

You hadn’t considered him to ask that. Either he would have agreed or disagreed, not dive into your intentions. Ironically, you felt that your reasoning was somewhat childish, so you hesitated before coming clean, “I just want to help people.”

Ranpo blinked before a smile spread across his face, “Okay! Nothing the world's greatest detective can’t handle.” He leaned back in his chair, arms resting behind his head.

“Oh!” You blinked, surprised he had actually agreed. “Cool, great. We’ll start next month so it’s easier for me to keep track.”

What became a simple agreement between co-workers shifted into a friendship. At first you thought you’d just give him the cash at the end of the week to spend on whatever his heart wanted…yeah you hadn’t thought that part through. When you tried to give Ranpo the cash at the end of the first week, he whined, complaining about how he needed someone to guide him to his favorite candy store. So not only were you giving him an allowance, but you had also become his go to guide. At first you were a bit annoyed, yes you had no grudges against the black haired detective, but all you wanted to do on a Friday evening was to rest in bed.

Although it was an annoyance at first, your time together had grown on you. You got to know Ranpo better, and although he was very childish, arrogant, selfish…you get the point, he was also quite entertaining. You two worked together, but you hadn’t really interacted with him except for the meetings or greeting as you’d pass by. You felt yourself glued when Ranpo would tell you of his past cases, hands moving around while still holding his spoon with melting ice cream dripping onto the table.

It didn’t take long for feelings to start forming. This agreement had gone on for 3 months at this point and you found yourself excited for the weekly outing you two shared. His childishness that had endeared you before was your downfall. Ever since you got to know each other better, Ranpo had begun pestering you more. Whether it be poking you for more snacks, or requesting you to join him during his cases, he never failed to gain your attention in one way or another. Which gained the attention of your fellow co-workers.

Dazai drawled your name, moving his chair to join you at your desk. You barely gave the bandaged detective a glance, continuing the report you needed to finish about you and Ranpo’s last case. Dazai disregarded your disinterest and continued, “Why haven’t you offered me a reward for getting work done?” A pout rested on his lips as he stared at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You quickly shut him down, “You wouldn’t do the work.”

He found a way to make himself look even more pathetic as he whined, “You’re so mean! Ranpo gets to hang out with such an attractive person while the rest of us are just chopped liver.”

You stared at him blankly, unsure what his motivations could possibly be, “You just want free food.”

Dazai leaned back in his chair, hand resting over his chest in a dramatic gesture, “You wound me! Is it really such a shock that I may want to spend time with you, Belladonna?”

You squinted at him, very aware that he only used that pet name when he was trying to woo someone, or in this case to bring your defenses down. And even though you knew he was up to something, you felt yourself give in. It’s been a long week and useless bickering wasn’t going to finish your report.

“Do you want to join us or something?” You asked exasperatedly.

“You’re inviting little old me?” Dazai asked with a dramatic gasp, a smile replacing his previous pout. “Oh I don’t know…”

“You’d have to ask Ranpo,” You grumbled, turning back to the half finished report. “And you have to pay for yourself.”

Little did you know, Ranpo was watching your entire interaction, a frown painting his features. He wasn’t sure why, but the thought of Dazai encroaching on your shared activity didn’t settle well. He was a selfish man, and you had become a treat all on your own. He wanted your attention on him, and although he knows it’s impossible for you to focus on him at all times, it didn’t stop him from wanting it. The thought was foreign to him, as he only really cared about the President’s praise or Yosano’s opinions, but you had managed to wiggle your way into his life and now he also cared about having your attention, praise, and opinions.

When you had brought up Ranpo, Dazai looked over to said man, a pleased grin on the brown haired detective's lips. Ranpo’s frown grew, unsure why Dazai seemed so pleased. No way was he letting the lesser detective spoil his treats.

“Oh Ranpo~” Dazai sang, only to be cut off.

“No.”

The sternness in Ranpo’s reply stunned you into tuning back into the situation. You watched in slight shock as Ranpo glared over at Dazai.

“You’re both so mean,” Dazai whined, but finally dropped the subject, sending you a smirk before returning to his desk.

You glanced at Ranpo once more, only for him to have returned to his normal self, opening a bag of chips as if nothing unusual just happened. That was only the start to his unusual behavior towards you. You knew your doting on him would clue him in on your feelings, but you hadn’t expected him to reciprocate. Yes your agreement had started because you wanted to help people, but it had turned indulgent as you enjoyed your time with the detective. What you hadn’t expected was for it to become indulgent for him as well.

The next sign was how the seemingly touch adverse man had turned into the clingiest motherfucker you had ever met. You didn’t mind until it started to intrude on your work. It started with small things, holding your hand as you walked the streets together, resting his head on your shoulder while you sat on the bus. Small things you could easily mistake as friendly (which you had), but the gestures started to blur some lines. Hugs that lasted longer than you could brush off, getting piggy back rides from you (if/when possible), cuddling with you on the break room couch when you both had a break. Dazai had found it his new goal in life to tease you as much as possible (it seemed that Yosano had taken up the same practice with Ranpo). Finally you both had breached gestures that clearly couldn’t be waved off as friendly. Ranpo had decided that the best seat in the office was your lap (you couldn’t suppress the embarrassment you felt as everyone in the office stared at you both), or how he’d insist you sleep over (you basically live in his dorm at this point).

The biggest sign of how Ranpo felt about you was when he offered you your favorite snack. Not only was it a snack, something he guards with his life, but it was your favorite, something he deemed worthy enough to know. Such a small gesture managed to warm your heart. There was only one problem…neither of you seemed to be able to open up about your feelings for the other. Your agreement had fizzled, as Ranpo settled for receiving your praises in exchange for his work, but you still would buy him an ice cream or some candy as a reward.

The lines of your relationship continued to blur more and more. It wasn’t until finally Ranpo had introduced you as his partner, and no, not as a work partner. At first you became flustered, a label finally falling onto your relationship, and soon Ranpo had followed as he realized what he let slip. He thought of you both as together, and a wide grin adorned your face. Hoping to get through to him that it was okay as you wanted the same, you had pressed a kiss to his cheek…which only seemed to worsen his flustered state.

At the end of the day…none of your co-workers were shocked. In fact, when Ranpo had declared your status to the office (much to your dismay), Dazai just had to quip, “Wait, you weren’t before?”

#ranpo edogawa x reader #ranpo x reader #edogawa x reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #edogawa ranpo x reader #ranpo edogawa #edogawa ranpo #ranpo #edogawa #bsd #bungo stray dogs #x reader

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sugrhigh · 2 months

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BACKSTAGE - ( m.s )

REQUESTED**

summary- your best friend caught the eye of the bass player in a band local to boston, your hometown, so you’re invited to the second to last stop of their US tour. they can definitely put on a show, and all of them are very welcoming when you meet them backstage. then there’s the asshole grumpy drummer with the inflated ego, who can’t seem to stop staring.

warnings- cursing, smoking, drinking, ???

band au (triplets are in their mid 20s)

drummer!matt x fem!reader (this song ^^ inspired me and it’s good af so i’m including it)

a/n: this has been brewing for a while and i kinda forking love this concept, i hope i brought it to life well! hope u enjoy and as always my inbox is open for whateva #kisses ****part 2 to come

@fawnchives @55sturn @teapartyprincess4two @l9vesick @sturnlova @cupidsword @junnniiieee07 @mattnchrisworld @cherrypostsposts

“are you sure you want to do this?” you ask her as you two linger by the bar at the back of the venue.

people are clearing out, all happily chattering after an incredible concert. you have to admit that it was a great performance, and the sold out crowd helped.

they’re a pretty talented band. and the bass player really wants your best friend.

all it took to get him interested was a single comment on one of his recent posts. adelaide is undeniably gorgeous, and she’s also built a decent following through her recent modeling jobs.

she stands out in any comment section and in crowds like these, so it makes sense that he hit her up. that’s why you’re here anyways.

mister bass player had invited you guys to the first of two sold out shows in this place. it’s the last stop on the band’s US leg, in their hometown, which happens to be where you and adelaide live.

“yes dude, for the hundredth time, im sure. and he’s waiting on us, so stop stalling. i know you have more balls than that.” adelaide gives you a pointed look.

you can’t help but roll your eyes. “i promise you i don’t care enough about what these guys think to be scared.”

“now that sounds more like you.” she teases as she pulls her phone out of her back pocket.

the light from the screen illuminates her face, and you watch as she taps something out quickly.

“chris said someone is gonna come get us.”

“can’t wait.” you smile sarcastically as you respond.

addy doesn’t even get the chance to yell at you about your attitude before a big buff guy dressed in all black approaches the two of you, dark hair slicked against his skull. SECURITY is printed across his jacket in bold yellow letters.

“you ladies enjoy the show?” his voice is deep, which matches his huge stature perfectly.

“oh, it was amazing! i’m assuming you’re jason?” adelaide beams at him, pushing her dark curls out of her face.

he nods once. “that’s me. you guys ready to head backstage?”

“yup, just lead the way.”

the two of you follow jason back down toward the front of the stage, around the protective barricade to a door that almost blends right in with the venue’s dark walls.

he knocks on it three times. another tall man opens it for him and ushers the two of you inside before people start to pay too much attention.

“dressing rooms this way.” the new guy leads you through the backstage area, down a narrow hallway until he stops in front of one of the doors. there’s a little placard with their band name on it, which is cute.

this time nobody thinks to knock, because it’s already pretty loud. once the door swings open the sound is even more overwhelming.

you count seven people, all sitting around on the couches and vanity seats in the dim lighting. three of them are nearly identical, which surprises you. you thought there were only two brothers in the band.

several bottles of champagne crowd the coffee table already, and they’ve only been off the stage for ten minutes.

all of them are watching the two of you now, and it makes you want to crawl out of your skin.

“look who it is.” one of the twins (or apparently triplets) that’s sitting on the couch sets his glass down and gets up to greet you.

his brown hair is long, longer than the others, hidden slightly by a black boston hat. he’s dressed in a celtics jersey and baggy jeans, clearly happy to be representing his city tonight.

“good to see you, chris.” adelaide smiles into his chest as he pulls her into a tight embrace that lasts for a few seconds too long.

“i promise it’s better to see you.” he smirks as he finally pulls away, not even trying to hide his gaze as he admires the way her outfit hugs her body.

then he turns to you, and you suddenly feel like a spotlight is shining directly in your face.

“it’s nice to meet you too, y/n. addy tells me you’re even cooler than she is.” chris says, wrapping his arm around your friends shoulder lazily.

“can’t argue with that.” you shrug with a grin, impressed that he remembered your name without having to ask.

he looks around and clears his throat, and the others stop chatting. “everyone, this is adelaide and y/n. introduce yourselves.”

one of the clones that was sitting beside chris speaks up now. “shouldn’t they know who we are?”

he looks directly at you with an uninterested gaze that’s somehow still so intense you almost lose your breath. he’s in all black, fluffy hair styled a bit shorter than chris’s.

his harley davidson muscle tee is cut off right above his black pants, revealing just the smallest sliver of his stomach as he leans back against the cushions casually. so many tattoos, so many rings.

it’s annoying that you notice this, even despite how pissed off you are at his stupid question.

“i hate to burst your bubble, but i wouldn’t be able to guess your name even if someone put a gun to my head.” you bite back without thinking, and laughter erupts around you.

“that’s exactly what you deserve for a dickhead comment like that, matt.” another currently-unnamed guy says.

he’s on the other sofa with the last of the carbon-copy brothers, arm around the waist of the beautiful girl that’s perched on his lap. the couple smile at you and adelaide.

“feel free to ignore him. i’m nathan, lead guitar.” he introduces himself.

“i’m his girlfriend jen.” the dark-haired woman chimes in, offering you a friendly wave.

“im nick,” the triplet sitting next to them finally reveals his name, “i’m not in the band, i’m just their tour photographer. my brothers got the musical talent.”

“kids a genius with a camera though.” chris adds, still sidled up against adelaide.

“names sam. i’m the singer.” a blonde boy with hair cropped close to his skull says with a nod.

he’s sitting on one of the vanity chairs that’ve been set up in a half circle, tipping the rest of his champagne back after he speaks.

“and i’m just his older sister gabby.” the girl beside him sticks her hand out, and you take a step forward to shake it.

“dont say just. and i love your necklace.” you compliment the barbed wire chain around her throat, and she waves her free hand at you, flushing slightly.

“you’re sweet.”

“it’s nice to meet you all. the show was fantastic, we had a blast.” adelaide addresses everyone with that award-winning grin you know and love.

chris leads her over to the couch and they sit down, pressed against each other like they’re attached at the hip. you have to admit it’s a little cute. you take the open chair next to gabby, opting to avoid sitting next to matt just to be near your friend.

“are you both from boston too?” sam asks, reaching to refill his drink.

jen gets up from nate’s lap to grab two more glasses from one of the cabinets, which is a kind gesture that you weren’t really expecting.

“yeah. we met in college and ended up staying in the city together.” you answer as he moves to pour your champagne next.

“that makes you what, 22? i am about to serve you alcohol.”

you can’t help but laugh, so adelaide answers instead. “we’re 25, but i’ll take that as a compliment.”

he puts his hands up in apology as you grab your glass. “so not recent graduates then, my bad.”

you can still feel matt staring at you, and when you meet his gaze over the rim of your drink he doesn’t shy away. your own eyes narrow slightly, because you dont understand why he won’t fucking quit it.

“what do you do for work?” nathan questions, and you finally break out of your trance to look over.

“i was in publishing for a bit, but i mainly model now.” addy responds first.

chris’s hand goes to grip her thigh endearingly as she sips her champagne. “can’t you tell?”

“stop it.” she nudges him slightly, though you can see a faint blush appear beneath her bronzed skin.

nate rolls his eyes before looking your way. “and you?”

“i’m a media manager for a few different brands.”

“really? like who?”

it’s matt speaking, you know even before you turn your head to meet his cold eyes once more. he’s challenging you, inked arms crossed over his chest defensively as he waits for an answer.

“well for one, those pants you’re wearing? i work with that company.” you reply bluntly.

you’d recognize those cargos anywhere, the faded star patches are a dead giveaway. matt’s face drops in surprise, and nick snorts, giving you a nod of approval that doesn’t go unnoticed.

“i can’t believe you work for vamped. we all get like, half of our wardrobe from there.” he admits.

“raiding her closet is a real treat, trust me.” adelaide makes it sound like a joke, but she actually does love to come over and steal all your favorite pieces.

it would be annoying if you didn’t love her so much.

jen smiles, cuddled back up on her boyfriend’s knee as she looks between the two of you. “i like you girls already.”

“yeah, and i respect anyone who can humble matt that quickly.” sam nods along in agreement, and you recognize that he’s talking about you in particular.

“oh, so i take it he’s like this all the time then?” your question is directed at sam, but you’re looking at the subject himself as you ask it.

“pretty much.” chris nudges matt with a silly grin, and he scowls in return, though he’s still watching you.

you can’t decipher what he’s feeling, what he’s thinking, and you don’t like it one bit. to be fair, you don’t know him at all yet, but you know the type.

you’ve met enough high profile people through vamped to understand that this kid thinks he’s some kind of god, probably because his friends tell him so.

but you’re not his friend, and you don’t owe him any politeness if he can’t bother to reciprocate it. you keep your eyes on him as sam redirects the conversation away from the two of you, another challenge of your own, and he finally looks away a moment later.

you take it as a win.

a few rounds of drinks later you can feel the heat creeping up your cheeks, blissfully tipsy as you continue to swap stories about anything and everything with the rest of the group.

chris and adelaide are in their own little world, whispering shit back and forth to each other like school girls.

matt hasn’t said a single word to you since you name-dropped your highest paying client just to embarrass him. he watches the rest of you interact, though that burning gaze of his always seems to meet yours anyways.

its driving you crazy, and you’re itching for a quick pause from the socialization, as nice as (almost) everyone has been.

“i’m gonna go for a smoke.” you address the group, mainly adelaide, and you’re met with a couple nods.

“same.” matt replies gruffly, and your heart falters.

of fucking course.

he pushes himself to a standing position before you can protest, or say anything really. his shirt is even more cropped now that he’s stretched to his full height, and you’re staring straight at his exposed happy trail and v-line. you’re pretty sure you see the top of a small tattoo by his hip.

your mouth goes dry, and you busy yourself grabbing your little purse from the floor.

“hurry back, i wanna hear more about this PR box fiasco.” gabby points a finger at you as you get up next, and you smile even though you know it’s a weak attempt.

“i’ll be quick.” you promise her.

adelaide gives you a little wave goodbye, which doesn’t quell your nerves as you turn to follow matt, who doesn’t wait for you to catch up.

he just throws the dressing room door open carelessly, letting it swing back so you have to stop it with your hand before it hits you. you glare at the back of his head, though you follow him in silence because you don’t know the way outside.

another security guard stands in the hall, and matt greets him with a quick nod as he heads outside, once again neglecting to hold it for you.

you mutter a quick hello to the man before stepping onto the little back patio. it’s the end of summer, edging toward fall now, so there’s just a slight chill in the air.

he’s already leaned up against the brick wall, situated on one of the steps down to the gated parking lot. for the first time tonight, he’s actually not looking at you, and it’s somewhat of a relief.

you dig around in your bag to retrieve your crinkled carton of cigarettes, flipping the lid open to pull one out and stick it between your lips. you’re about to put them away when matt clears his throat.

“can i bum one?” he asks softly.

it’s the least aggressive he’s been all night, and it throws you so off guard you can’t find anything to say back so him. so you just nod slowly, grabbing another cigarette for him and passing it over.

“thanks.”

“you got a light? couldn’t bring mine in.” you mutter, though your words slur because of the cig that’s between your teeth.

matt nods, ruffling his hair with one hand as the other slips into his back pocket. he pulls out a red disposable lighter and ignites it in one swift motion.

he holds it up to your mouth, burning the end of the thin roll of tobacco. he’s staring at your lips, thinking about how soft they look wrapped around that filter paper.

matt doesn’t want to be wondering what it would be like to feel them against his own, because you embarrassed him. he hates being embarrassed, especially by someone who walked right into his dressing room like she owned it.

you’re unlike any girl he’s ever met, and he’s fucking entranced.

you inhale, glancing to meet his blue eyes as the smoke fill your lungs, completely unaware of his thoughts. it’s familiar, and it calms you down a little bit.

you pull it from your mouth to exhale, watching as he lights his own before slipping the plastic device back into his pocket. he slumps back up against the wall, kicking one leg up to steady himself.

it’s silent again for a moment while you both enjoy the brief hits of nicotine, letting the clouds swirl up into the night. you both go to ash at the same time, and he breaks the tension first.

“so, what did you think of the show, sweetheart? your friend spoke for you, but i’m sure you have your own opinion.” he says, one side of his mouth tilted up.

you weigh up his statement, rewinding to an hour ago. you guys were in the upper wing, right by the stage in the front row. the view was great, and the energy was definitely there.

you remember matt, sweaty and focused as he banged on those fucking drums like his life depended on it. your eyes were drawn to him for a lot of the performance, to the intensity he brought to the stage.

that was before you knew about his superiority complex, though you should have been expecting it. he is, after all, a rising rock star.

“it was good.” you reply bluntly, shrugging as you bring your cigarette back to your lips.

he fully smiles now, though it’s not a warm one. then he follows your lead and takes another drag as well, his tattoos shifting as his muscles flex and relax due to the movement.

“don’t fucking humor me.” matt finally says seriously, and you narrow your eyes.

“i wasn’t, but it doesn’t matter either way. you think you’re the shit regardless.” you snap back.

matt softens a bit at your tone, but he’s also backed into a corner. you confuse him, because you’re impossible to read. that’s never happened to him before, and it’s annoyingly enticing.

“you don’t know a damn thing about me.”

“i know your type.” you argue sourly, sucking in another mouthful of smoke.

he turns his full attention to you now, shifting so he can look you right in the eyes. you wish it didn’t intimidate you so much, but the way he’s been leering at you all night makes you sweat.

“and what type would that be, hm?” matt goads.

you nudge at the concrete with the toe of your sneaker, pausing briefly to compose your answer.

“you’re arrogant, which either comes from the fame or the praise, or most likely both. in fact, you’re so cocky that you probably can’t be around anyone without patronizing them. i bet they all tell you how talented and badass you are, but you wanna know what i think?” you ask him, taking a hit of your cigarette for dramatic effect.

and it works. matt is hanging onto every word, waiting for you to deliver the final punch as you take a step closer, blowing the vapor toward him.

“i think that the whole time, they’re just waiting for you to shut the fuck up.”

for a second the world is still, and neither of you move an inch. he’s just studying you, eyes skipping across your face like he’s trying to commit it to memory.

“you want to know what i think?” he questions you quietly, and you can’t help but watch his lips as they move.

so pretty and pink, and you know he would taste like tobacco and sweat. you want to give in, but you won’t. one thing about you is that you’re stubborn, and you refuse to make the first move for this asshole.

“i think you like it.” matt finishes, so close to your lips now that he’s practically whispering his words against them.

just as you think he’s about to kiss you, to give you the power you crave, he tosses his cigarette to the ground and snuffs it out before stepping around you.

the only reminder that the moment was real is the door slamming shut behind him.

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #drummer!matt #fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #band au #matthew sturniolo x reader #Spotify

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venuiscmind · 1 month

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COMMOTION. (1/2)

slightly toxic fwb Ellie x toxic Reader

Ellie has a reputaion around campus and so did you. What happens when you meet at a party and can't get off each others minds?

Warnings: weed, alcohol, oral (e receiving), fingering(r receiving), squirting, snapchat recording with consent, overstimulation, edging, pining on both sides, NOT TOO TOXIC IN THIS PART.

inspired by the song commotion by Jozzy.

Lol this was meant to be some backshot headcannons but then it became this monster.

W.C: 8.2K

Read this. and this. click on this. click these too.

Ellie hummed into the kiss, deepening it, by slipping her tongue into the mouth of the girl who was currently sitting in her lap.

She turned her head, allowing the girl to stroke her cheekbones as Ellie moved her hands from her face to her hips, squeezing and gripping the denim skirt covered flesh in a not so gentle grip.

Did Ellie know who this girl was? No. Did she try to find out her name four times using context clues as well as sneaking a glance at her phone whenever it lit up, praying someone would text the girl using her name? Yes. Did it work? No.

But Ellie didn't really care at this point. She had a sneaking suspicion the girl on her didn't either although she had introduced herself to Ellie multiple times at multiple parties.

She had come to this frat party to sell to her most promising customers, frat boys, who never seemed to get enough of the buds she sold. They could also never seem to satisfy their girlfriends, leading to them often finding her in the house or the party she was at.

Ellie had been minding her business in the living room of the full and bustling fraternity house, rolling herself a blunt to smoke, in the comforting purple lights and darkness of the frat house, as she was sold out and done for the night. As she had placed the blunt in her mouth and was pulling out a lighter to spark it with, her eyes drifted to a girl across from her who's eyes had been flittering from her and back to the conversation she was having with her friend for the past few minutes.

Eyeing Ellie in her oversized and beat up leather jacket and dark jeans. Ellie raised her brows, grinning at the girl in the dark room, taking a hit of her blunt before holding it out to her while her friend had disappeared to get another drink.

The rest was history.

Ellie didn't like to admit it, but she knew she had a bit of a reputation on campus. The girls liked her, and she liked them back. But she knew that they were looking for all the wrong things in her. This was how she ended up becoming a name on every girl's lip in a dreamy sigh, or any angry yell from most frat guys. But no one sold weed, strong enough to forget about what had caused the problem in the first place so she managed to stay in people's good graces.

She knew it was a bad idea to start talking to the girl, to let her eyes drift down to her lips, then back at her eyes shamelessly, causing the girl to stop her sentence and look away from Ellie, curls hiding the blush on her face as she looked down at the cup in her hands.

Before Ellie knew what she was doing, she found herself scooting closer to the girl, fingers reaching out to brush the girl's hair away, stopping it from getting caught on the girls' lip gloss. Her lips were parted as she glanced back at Ellie and moved in to kiss her with a flushed face and hazy look in her eyes.

Ellie should have stopped her but the blunt had taken its effect and everything had slowed down and all she wanted was to feel someone against her.

So. What did she do when the girl pulled away from her to offer her a number? She took it, but made it clear that she wasn't after anything serious, while brushing the stray strands of the girl’s hairs from her eyes again. The girl nodded and pressed a kiss to the corner of Ellie's lips and cuddled into the crook of her neck.

Ellie leaned back against the rest of the couch, looked to the ceiling, blowing a puff of smoke towards it, knowing this was how many of her relationships had started and this would most likely end the same way.

Somewhere in the corner of her mind she wondered if she smoked enough, could she set off the fire alarm to stop the racing of her heart. She was already dreading the end of this and could feel this would end badly.

Ellie wasn't sure when she realized that she wasn't built for relationships but whenever she finally managed to get under the label of being in a relationship, her entire soul and body was set on fire, and she wanted to get out of it as fast as possible.

She just felt more comfortable outside of them, it was easier for everyone involved especially the girls she had in her bed. They always ended up getting hurt and that was her fault. She knew it deep down, that she should stop kissing pretty girls at parties and wrecking people's relationships but.

But.

But some part of her wouldn't have it any other way.

She felt alive when she was kissing those pretty girls. She felt alive when she was fucking them into a mattress, watching the condensation drip down the window, and huffing into their shoulder like a wild animal. She loved being under them watching them beg for her to make them feel good, like no one else could.

It was her deadly sin. Lust. And she just couldn't see her depraved self giving it up for anyone or anything.

She felt the girl shift against her as she nuzzled deeper into her shoulder. She hoped it wouldn't hurt. But she'd be wrong.

Ellie straightened her head, looking out to the sea of partygoers, watching them mill about the room, clinking their glasses together or kissing in corners trying not to get spotted by their friends.

She also saw, two girls, holding hands, clearly flirting with each other and giving each other sultry glances and soft touches. Ellie's interest was piqued when she saw one of the girls, quickly glance over, probably feeling her staring, taking in the situation and grinning for a split second before knocking back the rest of her drink.

Elli looked you over, loose jeans, tight fitting top, with a sliver of your bra peeking out, but you didn't seem to care. It was either a tactic (a successful one judging by how often the other girl was looking down at your chest) or you really didn't care at that point in the night.

Ellie couldn't lie. You were pretty. She couldn't move her gaze away from you. Eyes grazing up and down your body. She was no better than an animal eyeing their prey. She wanted to sink her teeth into you.

She watched as you tucked a sliver of hair behind the girl's ear and bringing up your glossy lips to whisper something into her ear, moving your hand that had been in her hair, under her chin, to which the other girl blushed at before nodding and setting her cup down on the counter.

Suddenly as if she was emboldened, she climbed up the stairs and took the hand of the other girl, leading her to the bottom of the stairs to probably find a bedroom.

Time had slowed down for a split second as Ellie, watched you leave with the other girl, not before meeting her eyes again and winking at her through dark smoky lashes and grinning, before you disappeared, deep into the halls of the frat house to get into the empty sheets of some frat bro's bed.

What the fuck.

She had winked at Ellie. While holding another girl's hand. Ellie felt her breath hitch when it happened. This also caused the girl under her to stir slightly but loop her hand around to steady herself.

Ellie was fucked. There's no way a wink could make her that unstable.

Right?

Ellie remembered pulling away from the girl to lean down to meet her, kissing her, tasting the sweetness of her.

She smiled, looking into the girls' eyes. Ellie also remembered the sobering walk back to her dorm, as she tucked herself in bed, she thought of you, wondering if you were still with that girl. She grinned before falling asleep in her bed.

Maybe you would run into each other on campus? She hoped so.

</3.

The week had not been kind to Ellie. On top of stacks of assignments, she hadn't been able to sell with all the work she'd had to do. She had also found out that one of the professors had lost her paper so she would simply have to type it up again due to her laptop not backing it up.

Of course she couldn't voice this to her professor, he was a dick with no remorse or balls she thought to herself. He'd been grinning when he had told her this.

Fuck.

She was fucking fuming and the people around her seemed to know it. Parting for her as she walked by with her brows furrowed and gripping the bag over her shoulder so tightly her knuckles turned bone white.

Almost everyone.

You had been coming out of the library stacks and had been looking down at your phone to pull up your schedule when you made hard contact with someone who had been making a beeline for the entrance to the libraries second doors.

You let out a gasp as you stumbled back falling onto your ass.

You were so glad it was night when most people had left, so not many people could witness your fall. The rest of the people there would be pulling all nighters and would be too busy typing on their laptops to hear the thump that followed your gasp for air.

"Fuck-fuck I'm so sorry." A voice above you pulled you out of your daze as you glared up at the figure.

You opened your mouth to give a short-tempered response before pausing for a moment, taking in the woman who had knocked you down.

She was pretty, freckled and flush with embarrassment and fear from possibly hurting you. Full, pink and chapped lips parted, saying something you couldn't hear because you were busy admiring her.

She was wearing a simple black oversized shirt, corduroy dark green trousers covering her long legs and convers.

She had a toned, and tattooed arm stretched out in your direction, and you took it, letting her pull you up as you looked into her deep green eyes. It might as well have been a forest that you were peering into.

"Are you okay?" Ellie asked, pulling you up with ease. You smoothed out your hair before nodding your head.

"Yeah, I'm good." The girl looked back at Ellie. Ellie wasn't vain but she knew you had been staring for far too long to be classed as anything other than-

Actually.

What was that look the girl she had just bulldozed through was giving?

Ellie looked down at the girl, who was all glossed lips, furrowed brows and flared nostrils.

Anger? No, you would have strolled off by now, or pushed her back at the very least.

"I think I know you from somewhere?"

Recognition. That had been it. Ellie searched her memory. You could have been anyone. Ellie was fucked, in short. She wracked her brain for any memory of you, but nothing came up.

Fuck around and find out I guess she thought to herself.

You grinned at her, leaning into her space as you waited for an answer.

"You don't remember, do you?" You said as you flittered your eyelashes up at her. She was slightly taller than you at 5'7. You shook your head in mock disappointment and pouted up at her.

Ellie flushed at being caught out and rubbed her neck, feeling all the warmth flood to her face. She took a step back and looked down at the ground.

"Shame too," You pouted at her, adjusting the bag slung over your shoulder, "You said I was the best you'd ever had, and that we had something special."

Ellie had just about short circuited at this, her face heating up enough to match her auburn hair. "Look. I'm really sorry but- I really don't remember any of that shit I-"

She cut herself off, looking up at the sound of your laughter. "I'm just fucking with you. I was at one of the frat parties you had been selling at last week. That ring any bells?"

Ellies mind flashed back to seeing you, climbing up the stairs, girl in hand, and winking at her.

"Shit. That was you who winked at me."

"Guilty. Glad you remembered me so quickly, you been dreamin' about me or something?" You smiled at her, soft, syrupy sweet and easy, making something bloom in Ellie's chest. Something dark too.

If Ellie was a forest that girls, stumbled into and got lost in, never to return after being snatched by her, you were the plants, the wildlife, the tree sap that could lull girls in with your sweetness and softness, convincing them to stay, fogging up their minds.

The corners of Ellie's lips lifted as she looked down at you, giving you a smile that would give a fox shivers, "Sure, but you must've been thinkin’ about me too if you remembered me that quick?"

You hummed, letting a small amount of colour seep into your cheeks as you look away, a little embarrassed judging by the way you tapped your foot on the soft carpet of the library floor.

"Course I've been thinkin' 'bout you. It's not every day I see someone as pretty as you." You said looking back at her with a challenge in your eyes. The same one Ellie had given to countless girls before you and would probably give more after seeing you today.

Ellie nodded, at this smiling and pushing her hands into her pockets, semi-unsure of what to say now. Sure, she had called girl's pretty before and they had said it back but, it was rare that someone matched her like this, in her energy and-

"Is it alright if I ask you something?" You blinked up at her, eyes glossy and lip gloss shining in the pout you were giving her. "Feel like I can trust you, yeah?" You said taking a step toward her, leaving no room in between the two of you, your arm brushing up against hers.

God, you smelled good, Ellie thought.

"Shoot."

"Can I get your number?" yesyesyesyes! "I was looking for a new dealer on campus cause my last one moved away so it was gonna be a little bit harder to get stuff from him."

"Sure, here let me give you my number." Ellie said reaching into her pockets, pulling out her real phone (not the burner one she had specifically for this) and called out her number watching you type it in and send her a simple test text with a heart.

"Sweet, thank you. I'll text you then?"

Ellie nodded and watched you walk away, before you made it to the door you turned, wiggling your fingers, and winking at her again.

What the fuck.

She knew she had been watching and was just messing with her.

The ball was also in her court now because Ellie had given her number but not taken hers.

So, all she could do was wait for your text, but she certainly wouldn't sit idle while waiting for you to respond.

That night Ellie had called over one of the many numbers in her phone, and a random girl had picked up. After some polite small talk, they had made it into Ellie's bed where she had stepped into her harness and strap and fucked the girl into the mattress making the girl sob and reach around her back to claw at the hands holding her hips.

Ellie huffed, listening to the girl's, moaned and pleading for her to keep going! don't stop! But in the dim, deep blue midnight with the moon illuminating the room, all Ellie could think about was you.

Plunging into you and breaking you. Making you beg for her to keep giving you the pain and pleasure she was inflicting on you with every stroke and bumping of your cheeks against her hips.

Ellie groaned letting her head fall back as her cheeks flushed red, and her breath became unstable and felt her pupil's bloat.

Ellie looked at the window, steamed and dripping with condensation and knew what she had been thinking on these past few days.

She wanted you.

</3

Ellie would never admit that she had been waiting for your text. She might say that she had been a bit antsy since giving you her number and had been checking her phone a bit too much, but she wasn't waiting for you specifically.

No.

That would be weird, considering she didn't even know you. Not enough to be thinking about you like this. Ellie tried to get on with her days as normal. Not thinking about you under those purple lights that first time she had seen you in or the sweet scent you had left in the air when you had walked by her.

When her phone dinged, Ellie had given up on it being you, but she reached to check it anyways. Maybe you had found a better dealer or someone closer-

</3: Hey, it's the girl you shoved in the library. Any chance I could get some pre-rolls?

Ellie: Not if you're gonna hold that over me forever

</3: I am as a matter of fact.

</3: think it's the least you can do after tackling me like that in broad daylight

Ellie could see the bait you were dangling in her face. She ran her palm across her jaw and lips in thought before responding.

Ellie: First of all, how'd we go from a shove to a tackle?

Ellie: Second, would it have been better if I had done it somewhere darker? You’re a lil weird for that.

Ellie: Third, I'll roll you some stuff now? Need anything specific or?

</3: Anything just need something to take the stress out of my brain rn.

Ellie huffed down at her phone. You hadn't taken her bait. She thought about if it was possible to delete the message till her phone dinged again.

</3: Also I'm just telling it how I remember and shush. Can i pick up now?

Ellie: Yeah, come thru.

That went well, Ellie supposed.

Ellie set down her phone after texting you her dorm room number, pulling out a blue metallic grinder, placing some buds in it before twisting it to grind and tear the leaves. She was grinning before turning to look at her room. Thank god she kept it pretty clean otherwise she would have been busting her ass to clean. Finally, she looked down to herself in an oversized hoodie, and dark sweatpants.

Good enough she hummed before placing the leaves in some random rolling paper papers and rolling.

She did this till she heard a knock at the door.

She pulled it open, leaning against the doorframe and grinned at you.

You had your arms folded as you had waited for Ellie to open the door, carrying a pink little wallet and your phone, with google maps open.

"You a cop or something? What are you doing here?"

You smiled back at her, smelling the weed in the room.

"Yeah, I'm here to arrest you. Though I think you'd do pretty well in prison."

Ellie guffawed as you pushed past her playfully with no real force and sitting on her bed.

"You' got a real attitude you know that? Make yourself at home why don't you?" Ellie said, closing the door, sitting back down at her desk, turning her back to you as she kept rolling for you.

You hummed, laughing slightly. "I don't usually, promise. I can be nice, I'm just a little stressed out at the moment. Ran out of weed like a week ago and I legit did not have any time to pick up till right now."

Ellie nodded, listening to you. But she couldn't focus wholly on the task she had at hand with you sitting on her bed, clad in a jumper, leggings and comfy boots. Leggings that didn't leave much to the imagination.

Well.

Ellie turned fully back around, making sure to take a deep breath while doing so.

"Besides. I just got out of hospital. You should consider joining the football team. They could use a tackle like yours you know?''

Ellie rolled her eyes, tightening the end of the last blunt before, tossing the bag in your direction.

You squeaked as the bag came hurtling towards you, fumbling the bag a few times as if it was a hot potato before it settled into your hands, and you let out a sigh of relief at not dropping it.

Ellie considered what you said before speaking to you, offering you a proposition. "If I make it up to you, would you stop bringin' that shit up?"

You pouted your glossed lips at her. Fuck you were cute, Ellie thought to herself. She wanted to keep you in her bed forev-

"What are you thinking of?"

"I give you that bag of pre-rolls at a pretty fair discount. Can't give you the whole thing for free yet you know? Girls gotta eat after all"

Complete lie. Ellie could give you the bag for free, but she wanted something of yours to hold onto. Cash that you had handled seemed pretty good to her.

You laughed at this, before nodding as you handed over the small amount of cash she was charging you.

"And," Ellie continued before rummaging through the box where she kept her own personal stash of pre-rolls.

"I let you take a couple hits off of this." Elle said, pulling out something you had never seen before. It seemed like it was a normal blunt of course but wrapped in a golden metallic rolling paper.

"Meet Goldie. She's willing to make amends if you are, pretty girl. Goldie meet pretty girl. Think y’all are gonna get along just great." Ellie said leaning against her desk, one hand in the pocket of her sweatpants, the other wafting the blunt in front of you, smiling at the way your eyes were following the golden papers, before settling on the girl and nodding.

"Dunno if I should be smoking with my dealer, aren't you gonna traffic me or something? Make me smuggle cocaine onto campus?"

Ellie placed the blunt between her lips, clicking her lighter, inhaling then exhaling, before coughing slightly and passing it to you.

"Nah, I don't sell that shit. Too much trouble. Might make you get my weed onto campus though. You got any suitcases? Ah, it's okay I'll give you one of mine."

Ellie watched the way your jaw dropped, holding the blunt but not inhaling.

Ellie sat down, desk chair facing you, laughing at the "look on your face. Relax, I'm hurt you'd think that of me." She said feigning hurt, placing a hand over her heart and groaning.

Ellie looked up fast enough to see you swat her shoulder before taking a hit of the blunt.

Ellie giggled to herself before tuning back in to listen to what you were saying. "You dick, you really had me going there for a sec."

"Yeah, yeah stop hogging and pass it back already." You took a second hit before passing it to Ellie, who took a deep inhale, making the end light up for a good few seconds, before exhaling through both her nose and mouth.

You feigned a cough, swing your hand in the air, "sorry the second-hand smoke is killing me. Jesus your lungs must be fucked if your taking rips that big."

Ellie rolled her eyes hitting it again before passing it again.

"Careful with that. Take a couple more but then that's it. That shit is pretty strong." You took a hit before rolling your own eyes.

"Yeah alright. What's it supposed to do anyways?"

"Dude I got this off said, he was super high for like half the day, went to all his classes but didn't actually speak a word cause he was only responding in his head, not actually talkin' to people. But he was pretty happy the entire day. Said his Subway had never tasted better."

"Christ." You took your last hit before handing it back to Ellie who took hers before stubbing it out.

Ellie looked you over, sat on her bed, who was actually-

Looking right back at her. But at that point she hadn't really given a fuck that she had been caught and kept looking at you.

"Like what you see?" You said, looking back at her she was manspreading in her chair in her sweatpants. You couldn't help the swallow that was audibly heard in the small room.

"Yeah." Ellie said clasping her hands together as she leaned forward to stare more.

You hummed, leaning back, crossing your legs, and leaning back on your palms, letting the woman in front of you rake her eyes over you.

Saying you could cut the tension with a knife was an understatement as you let Ellie's reddening rake her eyes over you before she spoke to placate you, like you were a wild animal who needed to see palms in surrender before letting anyone deign to approach you.

Ellie scratched behind her ear, before smiling and saying "Easy. I'm not gonna start shit on this strain. Shits hitting already and you haven't had it before."

You huffed before leaning back more, looking at the ceiling wondering if you felt high.

You huffed out a laugh before looking down at Ellie. "Girl, who sold you this. I don't feel a fucking thing."

She grinned at you, teeth showing making a shiver run down your spine.

"Famous last words."

Half an hour later, you were sinking into Ellie's bed, while Ellie was melting into her carpet on the ground both of you laughing at nothing.

To say you were both a mess would be accurate.

You groaned out a soft "Fuck." before shifting so that your cheek was near the edge of the bed.

Ellie in turn had also turned her body so that she was facing you and the bed below you, but had also moved back further so that she wasn't as close to you.

You frowned reaching out to her,

"Where are you goin'? Why are you going back that way?" Your fingertips were near her now. You could almost touch the auburn locks, cut short into a mullet that suited her far too well.

Ellie turned from facing you to lying on her back, slinging and arm across her eyes, tattoos peeking out of the dark cuff of her sleeve.

"I've gotten high too many times and seen too many people throw up while greening out. I'm not really interested in getting puked on right now if that's okay with you"

You huffed at that, sucking air into your cheeks before smacking her exposed arm.

" 'm not gonna throw up Ellie."

"Lucky for me. I really like this carpet too."

You looked at the mossy green rug she had put on the ground, probably when she had first moved in. You wondered when she had started selling but thought that might be rude to ask.

Instead, you leaned over more, reaching out to trace over her arm, before running down and clasping the hand she didn't have draped over her face.

She hummed, "Having fun there?"

You mumbled an affirmative, before squeezing her hand. You weren't an idiot. While you enjoyed flirting and fucking girls, you weren't sure if you should continue what you had started.

Ellie was a whole different ballpark. Or rather, she was on the exact same field you were on which is why you were nervous to start anything with her. You both weren't ready for commitment. You couldn't speak for Ellie but, something about it made you nervous.

The feeling of being trapped, unable to escape without the judgement of others, your own partner and the fear that you would mess it up somehow were all too loud for you.

So, you did what was safe. Getting as close as you could and breaking it off before anything bad could happen, leaving a wake of running mascara and heartbreak in your trail.

You had heard about Ellie, even before you winked at her at that party. Of course, like everyone else on campus you thought she was pretty, but you always wondered what was under the exterior you could see was so clearly mirroring yours.

You felt her grasp your hand back, interlocking your fingers, breaking your train of thought.

"You sure about this?" She said while running her thumb across your knuckles.

You took a beat before responding.

"Not today, but soon."

She nodded, humming and accepting your answer.

She leaned up to brush her lips against your knuckles.

That had been the start of it.

<?3

That was the start of the cycle of you and Ellie hanging, not having sex yet but still hanging out and getting to know each other. Of course, you were both seeing others on the side, but you had slowed down, not seeing as many girls, but both of you still kissing girls at parties, sometimes right in front of the other before slouching back onto whatever couch you had both claimed as yours for the night and continuing the conversation as normal.

You kept hanging out and smoking, doing assignments together and ordering food in for the night or you cooking for her while she rolled for the both of you. You often sent her off with the leftovers for her to keep. She in turn slowly stopped charging you for weed, saying you had already paid her.

You also more recently started meeting up between classes, during the weekends and texting each other non-stop, sometimes staying up far too ate into the night, saying goodnight just as the sun was rising and then waking the next few hours to go to classes or occasionally selling in Ellie's case.

Nothing had happened yet, but you could both feel it was leading up to something. Like electricity that was building up in the air. The calm before the storm. Sometimes you felt Ellie's gaze lingering on you for too long when you were turned around, looking at you like you were something to be devoured.

You thought back to when you could feel her eyes grazing up your body during a trip to the campus bookstore, but when you had turned around to meet her eyes she looked away, instead picking up a book turning the pages with an unnatural interest rather than admit to getting caught.

This had been the dynamic between you for the past month.

<!3

You had been over that afternoon working on an assignment at Ellie, you lying on her carpet, brows furrowed as your eyes bore into your textbook, begging your brain to absorb some of the material that you had looked at but nothing. You groaned out, before shoving your nose into the textbook, lying flat into the carpet in frustration.

Ellie who had been typing away in her laptop, hood pulled over her head and glasses on her nose bridge turned around to laugh.

"Do I need to give you and the book a minute? I can chill in Dina's dorm if you need me to?"

"Shut up," you huffed out pushing your hair back to peek through your locks at the girl. "This is going to shit, none of this makes sense at all. Why the fuck did I pick this elective anyways?"

"Yeah, I heard a ton of shit about it, think Dina picked it last year and swapped out."

"And you didn't think to warn me because...?"

"Tried to that one time we got high, but you completely forgot about it the next day."

You groaned placing your face back into your textbook. You stayed there for a moment, listening to Ellie shuffle around the room, assuming she was looking for a book.

You frowned feeling her slot something in between your exposed fingers. You looked up seeing a blunt, but it was different. It was the same metallic kind of foil that her usual gold blunts had but was in purple.

You looked up at the girl who had a smirk on her lips, leaning down from her desk chair to look at you.

"Thought you were out for the week?"

She had turned down a dude who had come knocking on her door a half hour ago, explaing that she was sold out and waiting for more stuff to come in.

"Not out of my personal stash, obviously. C'mon keep up you're meant to be the smart one between us."

"I'm not the one getting a degree in astrophysics, am I?"

"Exactly, I was dumb enough to pick this rough ass degree, so spark her already, my brains melting and so is yours. We could use this. I'm done for the day anyways." Ellie said, shutting her laptop and stretching. "Will you sit up already too? You look like that girl from the ring and it's freaking me out."

You laughed at that and sat up crawling up to sit on her bed, making your way to the headboard as she sat on the opposite end holding out a disposable lighter for you to take.

You looked at her, in her usual uniform of a dark tracksuit. She had been wearing them more often with her finals coming up. She looked pretty like this you thought, especially with her glasses. You loved them, they brought out her eyes even more, but you'd never tell her that, not wanting to feed her massive ego.

Instead, you took the lighter from her outstretched and tattooed hand, bringing it up to the joint you had placed between your lips. You took a pretty big pull, inhaling, feeling the smoke go down your throat, before exhaling out of your nose and lips.

You felt like you needed this, maybe it would take your eyes and mind off of your thoughts about Ellie, which was impossible because she was right in front of you, fuelling the desire in your gut that had been building up for weeks.

You instead held out the joint to her, who paused, looking at you for a moment before taking it and doing the same. Maybe the fog was taking over your brain but. God, she looked good smoking watching her exhale her pull from only her nose, then going in for a second.

You needed something to ground you. You pulled out your own laptop from your bag.

"Wanna watch a movie?"

"Sure, put on anything."

You stopped your movements, looking at Ellie.

"Anything?" You confirmed.

"Anything aside from-

"Fucking Scott Pilgrim." You both groaned out minutes later. It was a film you and Ellie loved and hated due to Scott's actions during the film.

You listened to Ellie laugh at you watching the film. Your focus had been in other places though. Her lips. Nose. Freckles.

Everywhere your eyes could rake in.

When you brought your eyes back to hers, you saw that she was looking back into yours.

"The fuck did you put in this joint?" You asked, watching as she looked down at your lips, while licking her own.

Oh.

"Got it from the same guy I buy Goldie from. Said it was a similar strain, but he told me it makes some people horny. Depends on the person and how much you smoke."

You thought back to the two joints you and Ellie had smoked together.

"Fuck."

"Yeah." She agreed.

She had moved up earlier to sit beside you, so you were both close to each other, her shoulder brushing yours as you had leaned on it earlier.

She was still looking down at your lips.

You moved your hand to stroke her cheek, but she caught your wrist stopping the movement in its tracks.

"You sure?" She asked, looking you in the eyes this time. "Don't wanna fuck up what we have right now. I like our friendship. And your cooking."

You smiled at this. You didn't want to fuck it up either but, you really did you want her.

You nodded, "Just don't kiss me then, no feelings that way even if we stop this."

She thought for a moment before nodding and pressing her forehead against yours, right before she moved away, carefully putting your laptop on the ground.

You took her face in your hands, looking deep into her eyes, freckles and lips, wondering what you had gotten yourself into. But you didn't care. You had her right where you wanted her and that was all that mattered.

Ellie took your hands in hers, kissing them before breaking away from you and moving down the bed. You frowned at this until she grabbed your legs, tugging them down so you were lying on her bed as she crawled up your body placing her legs on either side of her hips, and she put her forehead against yours again.

"You wanna stop me, you tell me or push me off yeah?" She murmured. You gasped out a wet and broken "Yes." You said back in a tone as quiet as hers.

She looked at you before accepting your answer and kissing your cheek. Her hands were everywhere, roaming your body, up and down as she explored you, a thing she was praying she'd be able to do one day while in the other girls she had been calling.

You ran yours up and down her arms, grazing her neck before settling them in her hair, pulling her hood back. Her lips went everywhere they could, almost making up for the fact that they wouldn't meet yours.

You were losing your mind under her. Gasping at every ridge, curve and scar she kissed. She trailed her lips to your collarbones, placing soft kisses on there, suckling the skin gently, before moving to the skin, just above the black tank top you had worn that day, under your jumper which you had taken off to smoke.

You felt her teeth dig into your slightly as she sucked a mark onto you, a pink bruise blooming with two red indents. She moved back to kiss under your ear before placing her hands on your hips, squeezing the soft flesh there and playing with the hem of your shirt.

You jumped slightly at the feeling of her cold hands on your hot middle, but she shushed you, warming her hands against you before continuing.

You felt her place her head on your chest, leaning on you and in turn you put your hands back into her hair again, scratching. An act so vulnerable and intimate that didn't belong to the words you had murmured minutes ago.

"Have an idea." Ellie spoke, after laying on you for a few minutes. She sat up, kneeling between your legs, still toying with your shirt. She ran her fingers down your middle, tracing a line from the centre of your chest, down between your tits, to your tummy.

"Yeah?" You said looking at her, hair dishevelled, glasses still on but slipping down her nose bridge.

You moved your hand to toy with the drawstrings of her hoodies, before moving them to rest on her hips.

"Don't sound so surprised pretty girl. I'm full of them."

You hummed at this, taking her hand and moving them down your body, resting them above your tits, squeezing your hands over hers, making her squeeze and grope your tits.

She huffed, closing her eyes, exhaling through her nose, almost as if in thought about what she was going to do with you.

"I've got something to ask you though. Need you to think this through yeah?"

" 'Course. What is it els?" You said sweetly, as if you weren't tormenting the woman above you, blinking innocently.

She opened her eyes, looking down at you, gently reaching down and grasping a lock of hair and pinching it between her pointer finger and thumb, nonchalantly, taking her time with you.

"Do you think I need to get a towel?"

Oh.

Your eyes widened at this, not expecting her to ask you that at all.

"Uh..." You trailed off, turning your head to the side feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks from your neck. Ellie followed you though, grasping your chin and turning you to face her.

You took her in, still waiting for your answer. So you decided to give her one.

"Depends."

"Depends on what?"

You took a beat, to watch her eyebrows furrow and her lips part in curiosity. You wondered if it was wise to challenge her for the first time.

"Depends on if you know what you're doing."

She looked back at you for a few seconds, searching your face and seeing that you were telling the truth.

She wordlessly got off of you before opening the door to go into her bathroom. You sat up slightly, leaning on your elbows to see what she was doing. She came back into the room, holding a soft pink towel, with a look in her eyes that had confirmed your suspicions.

<!3

You felt Ellie pull you back in, letting your back fall against her chest, feeling her tits against your shoulder blades. She pressed a kiss against your shoulder in false sympathy, knowing she was the one causing your distress.

"Where are you goin'? Hm? Gotta show you I know what I'm doing." She purred in your ear, trailing her lips down and sucking a hickey onto your neck, slow and sweet, savouring the taste of the sweaty and soft flesh she found there.

She caged you in by slinging an arm against your waist, feeling it shake as you took in your unsteady breaths and sobs.

Her hand had been in your panties rubbing and moving, pulling out squelching wet sounds, which echoed around the room, with the windows fogged up and dripping condensation onto the ledge.

She had been at this for the past half hour, rubbing her slicked fingers against your soaked pussy. She'd occasionally slip them in, feeling you pulse and twitch around your fingers as you'd let your head fall against her shoulder and moan out "yes! please right there fuck!"

As soon as she would feel you get wetter or close she'd pull out or slow down, to let you grind against the palm of her hand and try to chase your high, which she wouldn't let you reach, instead going back to palming your now exposed tits after she had pulled down your tank to rest of your midriff.

You turned your head to kiss her neck, begging her to let you cum.

"Dunno if I should pretty girl, not sure I wanna let this go just yet. Aren't you gonna let me have my fun?" She said pressing her palm into you causing you to throb and spread your legs to let her press into you more and whine out. You grinded against her as she used her other hand to push your underwear aside.

"God, you look so good. Think we should make a little movie hm? Just so you don't go doubting me again."

You twitched at the idea, being immortalised on camera like this for her and you forever.

"Yeah? You want to?"

"Want to. Also want you to let me cum if that's an option."

She laughed at that, kissing the top of your head.

She grabbed her phone from her desk and opened snapchat and held her thumb down before setting the phone against a lump of blankets that had formed from all the movement.

She rubbed your folds again faster than before, now focused on letting you cum, since you had more than earned it after holding out for so long.

You bit your lip, arching your back, bucking into the heat and wetness of her hand while grinding your hips.

"That's it pretty girl, just like that, fuck." Ellie encouraged you while looking at the camera seeing how wet you were getting.

She pushed her fingers into you, but it was different this time. No longer tormenting you but focused on making you cum completely as she thrusted them in and out of you.

You groaned out a warning, eyes closed and pushed against her, rolling your hips back.

"Gonna cum oh f-uck, like that, right there!" You sobbed as you pushed her hand away to let out a stream of clear liquid that gushed out from you.

Ellie laughed in awe, before taking your hand away and rubbing your folds again causing more to come out, making your eyes roll into the back of your head.

You mewled letting your toes curl, as you buried your face into her neck, riding out the last of your orgasm.

She kissed your cheeks, kissing off the tears that had dropped from your eyes from the pleasure as you caught your breath.

Once you did, you looked up at her, as she turned her head to peer at you too, glossy eyes and wet lips.

"Hm? You alright?" She asked you, pushing your hair from your face.

You didn't answer, reaching to end the video still recording before tossing the phone on the bed again and clambering into her lap. Ellie happily obliged you, wrapping her arms around your waist as you held her neck. She played with the band of your underwear, tugging it over your hip as you nuzzled her cheek.

You leant into her ear, and she would have missed it had she not stopped rubbing your back. "Wanna taste you Els, can I please? You said kissing her cheeks.

She let go of the strap of your underwear nodding into you, pushing her chin into your shoulder, shy suddenly at the thought of what you were asking.

"Yeah. You do what you want pretty girl.

She had taken off her hoodie and sweatpants leaving her in a black wifebeater and her boxers. She leaned back on arm tucked under her head, the other holding yours.

Ellie didn't stop you as you pulled off her boxers, tugging them off her ankles. She felt exposed as you took her in, eyeing her glistening folds, semi hidden by auburn curls on her pubic mound.

She turned her head, blinking wet red eyes at the ceiling, feeling her stomach twist into knots, partly in anticipations and something else she couldn't place. She also felt herself forgetting how to breathe as her chest tightened and felt her body sink into the mattress.

"Hey."

Your voice pulled her out of her daze. Ellie moved, shifting her weight onto her elbows to peer down at you.

You took Ellie's hand in yours, bringing it to your lips.

"Hey." Ellie rasped back, her voice gone.

"Do you feel that?" You asked, placing your lips on her freckled skin again. Ellie nodded, using her free hand to brush your dishevelled hair out of your face.

"Focus on me and that, yeah? I'll make you feel good I promise."

" 'Know you will, pretty girl. Keep going." Ellie huffed, leaning back into the pillows again as she gave you the green light to keep going.

She didn't stop you when you suckled onto her soaked clit like she was the best thing that you had ever tasted.

She didn't stop you either when you nuzzled into her thighs and made her clench around nothing. She stroked your cheeks, whispered how good you were doing and rolled her hips towards your face.

She looked out to the celling feeling her chest rise and fall as your tongue flattened letting her ride the muscle.

When she came, all Ellie heard was white noise and felt her mouth fall open letting out groans and rasps, as you kissed her folds, drinking her in. Her breath had left her body as she arched into your mouth, while holding your head between her shivering thighs.

When Ellie felt you crawl up your body in the now dark room, all she could do was let you lay on her chest happily and hope you didn't hear how hard her heart was beating. But you did.

She had never let another girl sleep over, and you knew this, but you still felt her pull up the covers to both of your bodies, kiss your forehead and whisper "Goodnight" to you.

Her heart fluttered hearing you whisper it back in the dark.

Ellie laid awake for the first ten minutes, simply watching you sleep in the moonlight. She had an answer to a question she had been asking herself this past week.

She didn’t know what it was, but all she knew was that her heart was beating faster around you.

Sometimes it felt like she couldn’t breathe. You stirred in the dark, moving closer to her, and Ellie’s body responded instantly by moving closer too.

She ran a finger across your cheek, soothing you and watching the frown slip from your features.

Now what?

#ellie williams #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams x y/n #ellei williams tlou2 #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie tlou2 #tlou2

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caesium-55 · 27 days

Text

—everything is orange. [ i ]

pairing: lando norris x kpop idol! reader

summary: a racecar driver who needed a fake girlfriend to dispel rumors and a kpop idol who needed publicity for her song. somewhere in between orange cars and orange sunsets, stands something they're afraid of naming.

author's note: i wont take tags for this im sorry 😭 also, i changed the faceclaim

masterlist.

The room is dimly lit. You didn't like dim lighting. It reminds you of your childhood bedroom. A barely functioning lightbulb hanging on the ceiling, your mother never bothering to change it. You were too short to change it yourself. You asked your neighbor once to do it for you but he had asked for a night with you in exchange so you kicked him out of the house before he could change the light bulb. You chose to study under the sucky light which became the reason behind your poor eyesight today.

You sit on a chair across Atty. Kim Jin Hwang, HAN entertainment's legal representative and one of the best lawyers Seoul has to offer, with a table dividing the two of you. He’s a man in his fifties, quite close to the age of retirement. He’s a veteran and despite his age, his mind is still sharp.

You refrain yourself from tapping your foot against the floor anxiously. Anxiety does not look good on you and you refuse to show people that you're anxious. Anxiety is weakness so you keep your posture straight and make sure to keep eye contact with Atty. Kim. If you look away first, you're a coward.

“Tell me honestly. Is this you in the pictures?” Atty. Kim Jin Hwang points at the pictures sprawled across the table. They’re blurry and grainy and incredibly zoomed in. You can't even tell it was you from some angles. You look quite different from the person that you were when you were sixteen. HAN Entertainment is particularly fond of investing in their idol’s plastic surgeries and while they only fixed your crooked teeth, removed the hump on your nose bridge, altered your uneven ears, bleached your skin, and plucked your brows—which are quite minor changes—you still hold very little resemblance to the teenage you.

You grew up well. Thankfully, you inherited only the best parts of your parents. Or at least, the best parts of your Mom. You have no idea what your father looked like, only knowing that he was from Brazil or some country in South America.

“Yes,” you answer immediately, not bothering to lie. What is the point of lying anyway? People have been calling you all sorts of malicious names across different social media platforms and you’re sure Atty. Kim has seen some of them. There’s no point lying to his face and saving your image anymore. Might as well admit that you are exactly the kind of person they’ve been yapping about. An illegal driver. A criminal.

“Why did you do it?” Atty. Kim asks and truthfully, you did not expect the question. You expected the what and how and where and when but never the why question. You fall into a thoughtful pause.

“I was sixteen,” you shrug your shoulders, almost uncaringly so. “I wanted to leave home as early as I could and to do that, I needed money. Nobody wanted to accept student part-timers and I tried doing stuff like tutoring and doing other people’s assignments but it wasn't enough. I have a friend who joins street races. He’s not a good driver but he’s got a good car. He really wants to win so he cheated and let me drive his car on the condition that if I win, he’ll split me the winner’s money. I did it. I won races in that car, acting as if he was the one driving it.”

Atty. Kim gives you a long look. You don’t know what it means.

“Alright,” Atty. Kimlifts his chin and rises from his chair. “That concludes our meeting. In the meantime, you lay low. We’ll handle everything.”

You nod, “Okay.”

True to Atty. Kim’s words, HAN entertainment handled everything. They released a statement that you watched one race because you were sixteen and clueless and didn't know you were getting yourself involved in an illegal activity. It helped that you drove under a different name so people were easily convinced of this lie. You knew your friend—the owner of the car— wouldn't even reveal that it was you who’d driven the car. His ego would be bruised once the people discovered that he cheated on the street races and a sixteen-year-old girl with no license and no personal car outperformed him.

Additionally, HAN announced that you were to depart your group—ORACLE—which absolutely destroyed you because ORACLE had been the place where you felt like you belonged. ORACLE had been your goal. You worked yourself to the bone to the point of collapse because you wanted to be in ORACLE and wanted to remain in ORACLE.

Nevertheless, you accepted your fate easily. There was no point destroying the other members because of your fault alone.

Your members cried for a whole week after the announcement was made public through HAN Entertainment’s official social media platforms and you spent every single day you could still spend inside the dorm reassuring them, telling them that you’d still be there for them, that you’d be standing behind them in each step to their success. You loved your girls so much. You wouldn't even choose to leave them. If only fate was a bit kinder to you. If only life was less brutal.

Furthermore, HAN made you publish a handwritten apology letter. You couldn't remember what you wrote anymore but you did remember how heavy the pen felt, how your hands trembled as you wrote each sentence, how writing the damn letter took three hours because you kept breaking down midway. They announced your hiatus promptly after. They used the term indefinite hiatus but it might as well be retirement.

You can't believe that you suffered through sixteen years under the same roof as your incredibly abusive mother, left home with only a backpack and a paper bag of cash just as you hit eighteen years old, worked your way in the harsh world by juggling three part-time jobs and a scholarship-shouldered university education until a scout noticed you, undergone the rigorous and borderline suicidal training of a KPop idol to-be, and sacrificed everything you had—mental stability, blood, sweat, and tears—just so you could pass every monthly evaluation and become your company’s darling, only to have everything disappear because someone found pictures of you predebut in an illegal street racing event. Fuck.

You were fucking sixteen at that time! You didn't know any better. You only wanted money. You didn't have a license. Getting one is too expensive. You borrowed a car from a friend. It's an unregistered car. You drove the car. You won races. You stopped when you turned eighteen. That was it.

Knetz decided to crucify you for a sin born out of your desperation when you were sixteen. When a dog was hungry, it ate whatever was thrown its way, uncaring if the food thrown at it was good or not because its primary instinct was only to cure its hunger. It was not as if you sexually assaulted someone. It was not as if you bullied someone and involved yourself in school violence. It was not as if you drank alcohol and drove or even involved yourself in gambling. Sure, street racing was illegal but you never even hurt someone! You never even crashed into someone mid-race.

You’re sure you’re going to leave the company and you won't fight their decision if they want you to do so. People spit out their gum when they lose their flavor. That's also what the industry did. You saw it happen too many times to too many idols. They collect pretty faces, push them to their limits until they could be loved by the public and once the public decides they’re not worth loving anymore, they’d spit them out. You are a gum in this story.

You feel like you’re eighteen again. You want to run away from home all over again. You ran away from the house you were born in once and now, you’re going to run away from the house you worked hard to live in. You want to pack your bags and board the next plane to another country even before the light of the rising sun touches the ground. That gnawing feeling of not belonging to a place that’s supposed to be home kept tormenting the cracks of your heart and the only way to seemingly get rid of it albeit only temporarily is to pick up on your feet and run away, never to leave anything behind you. Not ghosts, not traces, not memories—nothing.

But HAN entertainment won't let you. Yoon PD-nim knocked on your door, a contract in hand. He offered you an apartment to live in, a salary, a place in the company, and told you to keep creating songs. HAN Entertainment knew your talent in song making and producing was partly behind the success of ORACLE, their rising girl group. You were too useful to get rid of easily.

And like that, you spent the last two years making music for every kpop group under HAN Entertainment. You mostly made B-sides for the junior girl groups, AURORA and PRIZMA, and the title tracks for boy groups, HIRA and 1THEBOY. You worked for soloist, Ciel, once for his last comeback before his mandatory military service and worked on half a mini-album’s worth of songs for ORACLE every comeback. Thankfully, the songs gained positive feedback from the general public. That was your ticket to keep staying in HAN entertainment as a ghost producer and ghost song-writer.

Two years. You rotted in your apartment and the studio. This felt no different than the time you lived under your parents’ roof. You felt like a ghost, present but also not quite there. It's quite fitting, you think. You're a ghost producer and a ghost song-writer.

This was not a life worth living but you’d rather a life not worth living than have nothing at all.

You empty your fifth cup of coffee for the day—an unhealthy brew of Americano with five shots of espresso—before standing up from the ergonomic chair where you’ve glued your ass on in the last two to three business hours. The demo for Sunset Paradise is almost finished. There are still a few parts that need major adjustments and refinement but you’re confident that you’ll be done by midnight.

Manager-nim enters the studio just as you reach the door. You jump, almost kicking the indoor potted plant inconveniently positioned near the door. The caffeine made you extra jumpy today. Once you get over your tiny shock, you bow your head in greeting. Manager-nim mirrors your actions.

“You're still working?” he asks.

“You're still bald?”

Manager-nim rolls his eyes at you, smiling. You chuckle.

Manager-nim, or rather, Song Dan, is ORACLE’s manager. He is a middle-aged man who only came up to your shoulders. He’s shaped like a square with round glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. He treated you and the other members of ORACLE as if you were his daughters.

“I’m going to go get coffee. You can sit here for a while,” you invite, gesturing to the tiny cream couch. You use your feet to nudge the potted plant and clear Manager-nim’s path.

“No coffee,” Manager-nim stops you, taking a seat. “That's enough coffee for you today. Sit down here. We need to talk.”

“You can't kick me out. I won't give you Ciel’s first post-military mini album and ORACLE’s summer title track if you do.”

Manager-nim’s eyebrows draw together, a vertical wrinkle appearing between them, “What? No. We're not kicking you out.”

Your shoulders sag, relieved.

“Yoon PD-nim wants you to release a single.”

At that, your entire body stiffens, eyes going wide as saucers. You let out a noise in disbelief.

“You're joking.”

Manager-nim’s face doesn't shift in the slightest.

“You're actually serious,” you rub your chin with your hand.

What is Yoon PD-nim trying to pull now? Two years have passed since you’ve disappeared from the limelight. You're certain that you're not returning to the world of flashing lights and stage performance anymore and you’ve already accepted that your career has ended.

“Why?” your voice slightly wavers as you ask. Manager-nim sighs heavily, patting the vacant space beside him.

“Take a seat. We’re going to be talking for a while.”

The girl in the mirror stares back at you. She looks exhausted. She has deep bags underneath her eyes. Her shoulders are bony. They look like they're about to pierce through her pale skin. Her lips, which should be a nice shade of pink, are pale. Her eyes hold emptiness.

You pull your gaze away from your reflection and direct it to the bathroom sink, where a hair brush sits on the white tiles quietly. Fallen hair gathers up in its numerous sharp teeth. At this rate, you’re going to end up like Manager-nim—bald.

You can't go bald. You have a weirdly shaped head.

“Yoon PD-nim wants you to release a single but before the release, he needs you to be in a PR relationship with someone.”

You hiss loudly, slapping a hand on your temple. God, you want to act like Manager-nim never said that. You don't want to remember it.

You? A PR relationship? With someone you don't know? How atrocious. You didn't even need to hear Manager-nim out until the end. You are out. You do not vibe with romantic relationships. They make your skin crawl.

“Listen, [Name]. This might be your only chance to come back again.”

“What if I don't want to come back again?”

“Then why are you still here? Why are you still making music? You're good at leaving so why didn't you?”

The public still terrifies you but you will never tell that to anyone. You can’t even go out and buy groceries without trembling. So many eyes. So many judging eyes. They're all waiting to destroy you again with their stupid eyes and stupid mouths with sharp teeth. A stupid PR relationship won't save you.

But what if it will?

You hold the edges of the sink and lean the majority of your weight against it. Your knuckles slowly turn white. Your knees feel weak. You close your eyes and let out a shaky sigh.

Why are you still here? A voice in your head asks.

I just want to be home. You reply.

Do it. This is your ticket to go home. It says.

You open your eyes and gaze into the mirror.

Do you want to be home?

More than anything.

With a nod, you push yourself away from the sink and exit the bathroom.

Yoon Sang Hyuk, CEO of HAN Entertainment—the black marble desk name plate indicates; the text an intimidating shade of gold. The owner of the name sits behind the table, his legs crossed over the other. His face is sealed with a neutral expression. Suddenly, a satisfied smile works its way across his face and you swear the wrinkles that permeated his entire face doubled in amount.

“I knew you still had it in you,” he says calmly. “That's good.”

“Thank you,” you say, your tone coming out bland.

“I’ll give you a manager and you are to leave for Singapore tomorrow.”

You nod, “Yes, Yoon PD-nim.”

“Oh and [Name]?”

“Yes, Yoon PD-nim?”

“I know you're smart and you're hardworking and you're strong,” he begins. “I am confident you’ll do well so when you fly out there, don't be intimidated by any of them. You're as powerful as them. Remember the reason why you're there in the first place and do what you think is best.”

“You're putting a lot of trust in me,” you observe.

It's questionable; the amount of trust he’s giving you. You already expected that Yoon PD-nim would send out an entire escort team just to make sure that you're not going to mess up again and get yourself involved in a PR nightmare incident. Who knows? Maybe someone will dig up pics of you copying homework from your seatmate in middle school and crucify you for being an academic cheater while you're out there holding hands with your fake boyfriend.

“I know you won't make the same mistake twice.”

You finally catch the underlying message behind his seemingly harmless words.

Focus on coming back and don't make another mistake.

You nod, “Yes, Yoon PD-nim.”

“Lando Kinder Norris,” you read the name on the folder, brows furrowing. That's a rather unique middle name. “British-Belgian. Born November 13, 1999—”

It's good that your fake boyfriend and you were born in the same year. You're not very fond of age gaps.

“—in Bristol, England. Currently racing for McLaren. Car number 4. First entry is the Australian Grand Prix.”

Below is a series of long paragraphs detailing his racing history that you’re definitely not reading. Shoving the folder aside, you lean back into the seat and cross your arms over your chest. Your eyes flutter close. Jinnie, a HAN entertainment manager who looks like she’s half white and half Asian, gives you a judging look from her seat.

“You should read it,” she advises.

“No,” you say.

“I spent hours compiling that information,” Jinnie frowns.

“You compiled the wrong info,” you tell her, not even bothering to glance towards her. “Nobody will believe we’re real if I only know the things written in Wikipedia. You should have asked his PR team how he likes his coffee, if he prefers brunch dates or dinner dates, if he likes staying in or going out, if he likes the sunny weather or the rain, if he’d rather get food delivery or cook, if he’d like to hold hands and walk side by side or walk ahead of you so he can act like your guard dog. Those things.”

To be loved is to be known.

“You speak as if you have romantic experience.”

“Do poets have to experience the things they write poetry about?” you retort. “Immanuel Kant believed that everything depended on how individuals interpret and respond to his environment based on their personal opinions and feelings. I don't need to experience it to know.”

Recurring observations are your common source of knowledge. Reading is another.

And besides, this isn't your first PR relationship. You like to think that you know exactly what you're doing.

“Tell me something that's not written in the folder, Jinnie-ssi,” you open your eyes and tilt your head so you can lock eyes with her. “For example, why does a distinguished racer need a fake relationship? I can’t be the only one benefiting from this agreement.”

Jinnie purses her lips, “I don't know much.”

“But you know something,” you rest your chin on the palm of your hand. “Tell me.”

“There have been rumors that Lando Norris got a girl pregnant. The woman marched into Woking and demanded to see him. Apparently, he got her pregnant when they slept together in a bar,” Jinnie shakes her head. “It's a messy ordeal but McLaren recently proved that Lando wasn't the father. Too bad though, the public isn't believing them.”

“And they think giving him a girlfriend would somehow make the public love him?”

“They need to show the world that their boy isn't an asshole,” Jinnie says. “That he’s a loving, loyal partner. That he isn't capable of committing fuckboy crimes because he has a girlfriend waiting for him at home.”

You snort. McLaren really decided that you’ll be the best girlfriend? How did they even know your existence? The KPop community and the F1 community are worlds far away from each other. It's easier for them to choose a supermodel, an American actress, or even a pop star. But no, they really decided that a washed-up KPop idol is a good girlfriend for their star boy. You can think of a few reasons why they chose you.

“Are you sure he really isn't the father?” you ask. Companies can ignore morality for the sake of protecting their golden images. HAN Entertainment is no different. For all you know, you’re going to be fake dating an asshole who made a woman pregnant and refused to take responsibility. He’d be no different from your father who left your pregnant mother.

“Beats me.”

An hour later, the plane lands in the most expensive city in the world, Singapore.

You have three choices: a VAQUERA blue devil sweatshirt, Motel Rock chute trousers, and a Adidas forum low shoes combo, or a varsity baseball jacket, Bonbom rhee cargo pants, and a Curetty C round toe mary janes combo. You went with the varsity jacket-cargo pants-mary janes combo. You put on a bonnet to finish the look. When Jinnie enters the hotel room and sees what you're wearing, she immediately says:

“No. You're definitely not wearing that.”

“What's wrong with this?” you ask, looking down at your fit. This is what you usually wear. They're comfortable and acubi fashion is a trend nowadays.

“You're a WAG now. Dress like it.”

Your eyebrow arches.

“WAG?”

“Wife and girlfriend,” Jinnie replies. Your confusion isn't absolved, not even the slightest. Your mouth pulls to the side.

“And how does this correlate to my fashion sense? Do race car drivers control their girlfriend’s fashion style?” you genuinely question.

“No,” Jinnie says. “But they’d prefer it if you dress in something befitting for a WAG, you know? Elegance? Classic timely looks?”

You put a finger up, “No.”

Jinnie huffs, “I’m not taking a no for an answer. Wear a satin dress. Wear cotton trousers and silk blouses. Look like you're from an old money family, not some hip hop dancer from the streets. You're no longer your own person, you are an extension of Lando Norris. You have to look a certain way, act a certain way, talk a certain way. Your goal is to make Lando Norris look good.”

You push your tongue to the inside of your cheek, annoyed. Your jaw is tense.

“And when Lando Norris looks good, you’ll look good. Good enough that the public will love you again to support your new song. Do you understand?”

She's right.

You hate that she's right.

No matter how bitter the truth tastes, you are irrelevant and Lando Norris is your ticket to going back. In any other world, you will never ever allow yourself to become a jewelry for a man to wear. So you grit your teeth, keep the ugly prideful monster within you at bay, and clench your fists. You have nothing and when you have nothing, you need to be resourceful and make use of the people who have the things to push you to the top again.

You let out a sigh, “Jinnie, choose my outfit for me.”

Jinnie nods and leaves the room immediately.

It's three days before the Singapore FP1 2023. Jinnie drives you to meet Lando in his hotel. They organized a lunch gathering with you, Jinnie, Lando, and the other McLaren PR representatives who are responsible for this entire PR scam.

You're wearing a Versace tweed cardigan and a boucle tweed skirt paired with high heel leather boots and Greca goddess large shoulder bag. All black in color. Jinnie is the one who styled your hair. She insisted on it actually, claiming that your beach waves hair isn't doing it. She flat ironed the hell out of your hair so now, it's straight as a pole. She also sprayed your bangs with strong hold hairspray to keep them in place.

The outside world is nothing but a blur of high-rise buildings and cement pavements as the car runs. You're picking on your nails. They're clean but bare of manicures. Your two pinky nails are a bit too short. You tried to stop yourself from biting them in the airport but you can’t resist.

Two years is a long time. A bit too long in your opinion. You don't remember the things you learned in your etiquette classes anymore—how to stand in the public, how to walk, how to pose in front of the cameras, how to smile, how to greet people, how to look completely in your element despite being anxious of having a thousand eyes staring at you, how to act as if you're not crumbling at the pressure of looking good for everyone. That's the only way they’ll love you. If you look good in their eyes.

“We’re here.”

You blink.

“Come again?”

Jinnie points outside the car window. The car stopped and you didn't notice.

“Sorry,” you mutter, flipping your hair over your shoulder. You let out a breath, roll your shoulders back, and push the door open. Your entire face relaxes and you smile politely at the valet when Jinnie hands him the keys of the car. You ignore the starstruck expression on his face as you gesture to Jinnie to lead the way, following after her but not before saying your thanks to the valet. You're polite. You're trained to be.

You keep your shoulders square and your walk confident as you enter the hotel lobby. There aren’t a lot of people inside. There's a family of four in a corner, a group of elderly people sitting in the waiting area, and a group of posh friends chatting near the front desk. You can see a few heads turning in your peripheral vision. You can't blame them. You can be stunning if you try to be.

Your heart begins to ram violently against your rib cage. A million butterflies infest your intestines. Your ankles feel like it’ll snap in half a few minutes later. Your mind chants: DID THEY NOTICE HOW SCARED I AM? DID THEY NOTICE HOW TERRIFIED I AM? DID THEY NOTICE? DID THEY?

You want your ball cap and your sunglasses and your face mask. You want to hide your face.

You have to control your breathing as subtly as you can but you continue walking as if you're the prettiest yet the most down-to-earth creature to ever grace the planet. You fix your hair again once Jinnie and you stop in front of the elevator. Jinnie presses a button and you wait. While waiting, you twist the sole of your boot against the floor. It's better than tapping it against the floor. The elevator dings and the two of you enter the empty box.

When the doors close, your knees give out. You slam your hands against the stainless steel walls to stop yourself from dropping to your knees on the floor. Jinnie’s hands wrap around your waist, supporting as you pull yourself up. Her face contorts in worry.

“Are you alright?” she asks. You nod quickly.

“Yeah, yeah,” you lay your palm against your chest, right above your drumming heart. “Thanks.”

You straighten up, tugging the hem of your Versace tweed outfit to smoothen the creases and fixing your hair again. You clear your throat. The elevator dings and the doors open. You step out and your mask slides in place.

Jinnie leads you to a private dining hall. In the middle of a hall is a table occupied by five people wearing tacky orange-black polo shirts. You recognize one of them to be your fake boyfriend, Lando Norris.

Jinnie had already shown you what he looked like in her tablet and a few printed pictures but the pictures didn't do him justice. He looks extra charming personally.

He's still not your type.

The entire group rises to a stand just as you and Jinnie reach the table. You give a ninety degree bow, hands flat on the collar of your top so you won't accidentally give the McLaren people a view of your chest. (It's not like they have something to see anyway. Your chest is flatter than a rice field.) The edges of your lips curl upwards in a polite smile. You see Lando, your supposed fake boyfriend, try to imitate the bow, although he doesn't go as deep as you did. Your head tilts slightly at his action.

Jinnie is the first one who speaks, stretching a hand in front of her to shake hands with the McLaren team. She introduces herself in fluent English, “I’m Jinnie Jo of HAN Entertainment. It's a pleasure to meet you. This is [Name].”

They each introduce themselves one by one. Nicole, Greg, Kyla, and Louis. You try to memorize their faces and their names, drilling it into your brain so you won't forget. You're going to be working closely with them after all.

“Hi,” you greet them. You also shake hands with each of them. It feels weird, shaking hands as greetings. You are more accustomed to bowing.

“Wow, Jinnie, your accent is good,” Kyla compliments your manager.

“Thank you,” Jinnie smiles pleasantly. “I was born in Chicago. English is my first language.”

“How about her? Does she speak English?” Louis inquires. He's giving you a funny look. You ignore it.

“She does,” you smile at him pleasantly. “I’m very fluent. You don't have to worry.”

Risha, the Canadian member of ORACLE, was the one who helped you master English. You even have a Canadian accent when you speak English because of her. Additionally, you also took language classes when you were a trainee—Japanese, Chinese, English, and you even requested Portuguese, Spanish, French, and Korean sign language. You dabbled a bit on Tagalog, too, because you know how large the ORACLE fanbase is in the Philippines. You continued taking the classes up even after debut, even after all the members of the group had stopped, because you wanted to master the languages for the fans, to be able to hold conversations with them, to connect with them. You only stopped going to the classes after leaving the group two years ago. It's nice to see that your English skills are still in perfect shape.

“Please take a seat,” Nicole invites. You and Jinnie sit down. You place your bag on the empty chair beside you and when you pull your gaze up, you coincidentally meet Lando’s eyes. They're blue and green with flecks of hazel dusted in the middle. It's the first time you've seen someone with eyes wielding three different colors. They're stunning.

You smile at him. He smiles back and then averts his gaze. You turn to Nicole, who’s sitting beside you.

“Now,” she says, putting two folders on the table. She slides them towards you and Jinnie. Jinnie picks them up. You don't. Instead, you stare at them.

“What are these?” you question, slowly bringing your eyes up and meeting Nicole’s gaze.

“Contracts,” she answers.

“Contracts?” you echo, picking the folder up and opening it. You take your sweet time reading from top to bottom, tilting your head a bit to the side.

“You don't have to read it all. It's all just formalities. Just sign it,” Louis inputs. “Reading can be hard for you since it's not your first language—”

“I read just fine,” you interrupt, not glancing up as your eyes thoughtfully scan through the words printed on the paper. “Thank you for the concern but this is a contract that involves me and my future. I wish to know what I’m agreeing to.”

Louis wisely keeps his mouth shut. You put your hand on your mouth so you can discreetly smirk.

When you finish reading, you slowly set the folder back on the table. You press your tongue against the inside of your cheek as you tap your finger on the wooden surface of the table.

“This is unfairly written, don't you agree?” you ask. “You're putting rather lots of demands on me but so little on him.”

From beside you, Jinnie thins her lips. You know she's also thinking the same thing. Fucking HAN Entertainment. They didn't even make sure that the contents of the contracts are not disadvantageous towards you. You are disappointed but not surprised. They really just sent you to be devoured by wolves and demanded you to not make a mistake.

McLaren also thinks they can just choose a washed-up KPop idol to cosplay as their golden boy’s trophy girlfriend and make her do all their demands with little benefits and zero complaint. They deliberately chose someone who still holds popularity but little power. Someone who needs them as badly as they need her. They chose you.

Assholes. The two of them.

“What do you want him to do anyway?” Louis sneers. His face is beginning to look a little too annoying. “He's busy building his career. All you have to do is support him and make sure everyone knows it because you have none. That's all. Or is that a little hard for you?”

Louis is getting this all wrong. Jinnie told you that you're going to fix his reputation for him so his career wouldn't be ruined. In exchange, he gives you publicity so you could bring your career back from ruination. This is not a parasitic relationship where only their side gets the benefits. How could you even work on that comeback of yours if you're going to be glued by his side?

Your jaw ticks with restraint yet you choose to smile, “He’s not the only one building his career.”

You pick up the folder and toss it to Jinnie, who catches it skillfully.

“Throw that away. We're flying home. I don't need a PR relationship to promote my single that much.”

Satisfaction fills you when their faces grow alarmed.

Ha.

“Wait,” Kyla stands and she shoots a dirty glance towards Louis. Your eyebrows scrunch a little. “The contracts are open to revisions.”

You clap your hands together, smiling widely.

“Perfect. Jinnie, hand me a pen.”

The team leaves you and Lando alone in the hall to eat, to give you both a chance to get to know each other.

You allow your eyes to scan the hall. It has a bright spacious ambiance. The windows are stretched from the floor to the ceiling, allowing as much natural light inside. Singapore looks absolutely breathtaking down below. The flooring is made out of natural pine and a crystal chandelier hangs atop the table where you and Lando ate. You keep thinking: what if it'll fall? You shake the thought out of your head and put a fork full of pasta into your mouth.

“Is the pasta good?” Lando asks. You nod, humming and smiling. You don't like it one bit. You're also mildly allergic to shellfish. You're definitely going to get a bad case of rash later. You hope Jinnie is prepared with a medicine kit. You forgot to bring yours.

You wipe your mouth with your table napkin, announcing, “I’m full.”

You have only eaten half the plate.

“Oh you have a…” Lando points at the corner of his lips. You wipe the same area in your face. “No, the other side.”

You wipe the other side, “Is it gone?”

“Allow me,” he says, standing up from his chair and leaning across the table to thumb the stain.

“Is it gone?” you ask again. Lando nods.

“Yeah, it is.”

He goes back to his seat.

“Thank you,” you smile. “You're already doing great with the whole fake boyfriend act.”

A flustered smile splits Lando’s face, shaking his head.

“I try.”

“By the way,” you begin, leaning a little forward. “Did they also give you a folder with my information?”

Lando nods, “Yeah.”

“Did they also suck?”

He purses his lips.

“Well….” he drawls.

“You can tell me if it sucks. The one my manager gave me looks like it's copy-pasted from Wikipedia.”

Lando chuckles.

“I mean, your biography is very…detailed? Too detailed, I think. I didn't remember most of them, sorry. I only remember a few of them. Like your birthday. January 1, 2000.”

“1999.”

“Pardon?”

You wave your hand in a theatrical flourish, “I was born in 1999. The company manipulated my public information.”

Lando’s brows raise in surprise.

“They do that?”

“You’ll be surprised,” you lean back into your chair.

“But why?”

“So every member in ORACLE can be born in 2000. I don't know,” you shrug your shoulders.

“That seems like an unnecessary change.”

“It is,” you agree. “But HAN wants everything to be perfect. They see a flaw. They fix it to their liking immediately.”

“What are the other things that are a scam in your biography?”

“Scam is a big word,” you tell him, amused. “But I’ll tell you. In exchange, tell me about yourself. Not the info I can read in Wikipedia. In order to make this work, I have to know you.”

To be loved is to be known.

“Alright,” Lando says. “We can take turns asking each other questions.”

“Cool,” you bring a glass of water towards your lips, taking a sip. “I’ll start. How do you like your coffee?”

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 fic #f1 x reader #f1 fic #kpop idol! reader #formula one #formula 1 #f1 imagines #fanfic

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pedantic-poison · 9 months

Text

golden | MS47

GIF by brawn-gp

pairing: black cat gf! fem reader x golden retriever bf! mick schumacher

warnings: fluff! and also a brief but very explicit mention of oral (f receiving) and p in v (oops lol)

requested: yes!

word count: 0.9k

author's note: second time posting this because the first time it didn't show up in the tags at all so thanks for that tumblr! anyways yes this IS so extremely inspired by the song daylight by taylor swift not that anyone asked but the second i read the request i couldn't help it

you'd met at a party, where you'd been standing quietly in a corner, drink in your hand, content to just mind your business without talking to anyone until you'd been there long enough that you wouldn't feel bad leaving

it was some friend's birthday, not close enough that you had to spend most of the night with them, but you like them enough to make an appearance, even though you hated parties

Mick, golden boy that he is, was the center of attention without really meaning to be

talking to everyone like they were an old friend he'd known for years, and at some point he looked up and realized that you were the only person in the room who he hadn't spoken to

he didn't even know your name, actually

and he couldn't help himself, he was just too curious, and he thought you were so gorgeous, he figured it was better to just go talk to you than to stare at you with heart eyes from across the room

Mick is such a sunshine boy that even when other people sometimes find you a little standoffish, when he first saw you, he just adored you right away

wasn't intimidated by you at all he was just completely enamored

initially, you were a little overwhelmed by him, kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop and show that it was an act

how sweet he was, how kind, how considerate, the way he would listen to you so intently, like the moment you opened your mouth to finally speak the rest of the world faded away

you just couldn't believe that he was being genuine, that he really cared about you that way

but the look on his face when he's watching you is so earnest

he didn't mind that at first you weren't very talkative, or that it took a little while for you to really trust that his affection for you was real

besides, he can talk enough for the both of you anyways

you finally had to confront just how much you cared about him because of the shit show with Haas

more than once Mick had to talk you down from personally fighting G*nter on his behalf

and once you finally let those walls down and let him in? Mick was stuck to you like glue

he'd come home, or back to your shared hotel room, after a long day during race weekends and just collapse onto you, laying his head on your chest while you'd scratch his head or his back

he fell asleep like that, on top of you, more than a few times

sometimes you weren't really sure what to do or say, but Mick would just assure you that you were making him feel better, that you were doing everything right, even when he was the one who needed comfort

and when you have a bad day at work or school?

that man pampers you like a princess

he literally will not let you do ANYTHING for yourself

and you don't even have to tell him that you had a rough day, he can just see it in your face the moment you walk through the door

he gives you these mini lectures about asking for help when you need it, reminding you that you help him when he has a tough time, and that it's only fair for him to get to return the favor

if you ever try to tell him that he's already so sweet to you, all the time, he won't hear it

just ushers you towards the couch or bed with your favorite blanket in hand

he'll have you lie back against his chest, nestled in between his legs, so he can wrap his arms around you and hold you to him, tight and comforting

whispering sweet nothings into your ear, planting kisses on the top of your head

bubble baths, your favorite foods and shows, holding your book in front of your face for you so your arms don't get tired, kissing the back of your neck or your shoulder each time he turns the page

supporting your body with his as he finger fucks you until you're shaking, caging you in with those big, buff arms and his warm body, your legs draped over his so he can keep them open for him, surrounding you and overwhelming all of your senses, so all you can feel or think of is him, his free hand roaming your body, massaging your tits and reaching up to cradle your throat so he can tilt your head back to give him better access

or making you ride his face so you can make yourself feel good, until you've cum so many times and so hard that you can barely see straight, and then fucking you into the mattress, deep and slow, whispering words of praise about how you're doing so well for him, how you feel so good, looking so pretty while you take his cock like a good girl

when you're overthinking and can't stop worrying about something, and his usual pampering tricks don't work, he'll just fuck you dumb, make you go mindless with pleasure so that you can't think period

he hates having to be away from you for race weekends, even now that he's with mercedes and isn't fighting for his life every weekend

even when you're both busy, he'll always manage to make time for you, dropping in and surprising you, even if it's only for a few days before he's off to the next track

he's also completely immune to any of your usual attempts at self-sabotage

he doesn't let you lash out at him or start fights or have huge blow out arguments

he just wants to give you the whole world

and you just want him

because his love isn't black and white, or burning red

it's golden

like daylight

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xuchiya · 1 month

Text

c.san {my sweet frosting}

cafe love m.list || k.hongjoong || p.seonghwa || j.yunho || k.yeosang || c.san || s.mingi || j.wooyoung || c.jongho

The aroma of freshly baked cupcakes wafted through the air, a siren song that led you straight to Cafe Love, you were new to the whole city of Seoul— a foreigner— so with this smell as you first took your walk in the morning. And now with the love of the smell and the love for food decorating, you caught yourself a job, not so far from your apartment.

Inside, the staff bustled about, each with a designated role – the barista with a practised flick of the wrist pouring latte art, the cashier rattling off witty greetings, and a girl, hair a mess of sunshine curls, haphazardly placing cupcakes in the glass display case.

That girl, is you, was the embodiment of "charmingly clumsy." You earned that nickname when you accidentally ran your hand on your hair whilst it was dirty with flour, creating highlights of white on your black hair. The baker shakes his head, patting your head as to help you clean your hair and to also congratulate you for getting yourself a job as the food decor.

As you fumbled with a particularly frosted blueberry muffin, a voice, smooth as caramel, startled me, "Excuse me, miss?"

“Yes sir?” Turning, you bumped into the cupcake stand but your eyes immediately settled on the man, tall and handsome with kind eyes hence looking like a cat glaring eyes, pointed to his own cheek, a question in his gaze. Mortified, you mirrored his action yet no clue why you were copying him.

Your fingers, however, seemed determined to paint stripes across your nose instead. Another swipe, another miss. By the third attempt, your cheeks resembled a battlefield of frosting and flour.

Before you could self-destruct entirely by embarrassing yourself by copying the man without knowing you were making a huge mess on your face. A whole canvas of frosting and flour on your cheeks, nose and forehead. The man stepped forward, a gentle smile playing on his lips. With a practised ease that hinted at similar clumsiness in his past, he brushed the frosting and flours off your face with his napkin.

And that moment there, time seemed to slow down, everything seemed to blur except for the man in front of you; he is the definition of a ‘chivalry is not dead’. It was just the two of you, the gentle brush of his fingers, the sweet scent of the cafe, and a warmth spreading through me, not just from the embarrassment.

Suddenly, a booming voice jolted us back to reality. "San, my man! People are waiting for their macchiatos!" Your eyes and his attention diverted to Wooyoung, who had a frown look on his face; both you and San’s face turned red.

The man, "San" apparently, chuckled. "Okay okay Woo, I’m just grabbing my muffin." He winked at you, a silent promise of a proper conversation later. "It was, uh, nice meeting you… Miss Frost." Your cheeks burned hotter than a fresh cup of coffee, but a smile stretched across your face. "It was also nice meeting you, San."

He waves goodbye to you, turning to Wooyoung, “See you tomorrow Woo!” You watch him turn a corner, disappearing completely out of your sight. You sigh in content, your hand gripping a soft cloth on your fist. You look down to see a handkerchief with an initial of ‘C.S’ on the edge of the cloth, you immediately think of the S to be the same man, San.

You panic for a bit until you notice a note inside, you pull it out to see a small piece of paper, revealing the letter inside; you read silently.

‘If it wasn’t for the frosting on your cheek, I wouldn’t be able to talk to you. Though whether you have frosting or not, I would still dare myself to talk to you.

' I’ll come back here again so you could return this handkerchief and maybe, your name too and also can I also ask for a date to where I can take you?’

The rest of the day passed in a blur of smiles and leap of heart as you continued working whilst thinking of the feline eye gentleman. Your cheeks aching at the thought of the next day and the cloth gleaming silently inside your apron as you finish up your frosting on the cupcakes and muffin displays.

San looked at the paper bag at the corner of his office table with a small lettering on it.

‘Enjoy Mr. Frost.’

He chuckles at your attempt but his heart soars at the thought of leaving you a note and his attempt of asking you out. He looks forward to seeing you again and maybe this time, he will be smudged with your colorful life.

#ateez #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez choi san #ateez san #choi san #san x reader #san x you #san ateez #choi san fluff #choi san imagines #choi san scenarios #choi san x reader #san fluff

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donaweasley · 7 months

Text

Sway With Me

Pairing: Loki x Fem!Plus-sized!Reader

Plot:

Time changes several things, including a person’s appearance. The reader was once fit and confident about her physique but recent changes in her lifestyle has made her bloated. Ashamed of her current body, she shuns away from Loki, and keeps him at bay whenever he tries to get close to her. That was until our Silvertongue decides to erase her insecurities once and for all.

Warnings: Body issues.

Read time: ~6 mins

Note: The song mentioned in the story is “For All You Give” by The Paper Kites.

~~~~~~

I wanna take you everywhere I go

Have you by my side

Take a walk round in every town

Drive across state lines

Like the sun sends a golden stream

Into our front room

I could be the same old light for you

~~~~~~

“Come on, dance with me,” Loki pulled her out of the couch and flush to his body.

“You mean ‘sway’ with me,” she giggled.

“Whatever you would like to call it,” he rested his cheek against hers.

“I love this song!” She hummed.

“So do I.”

The lyrics floated through the room, and rippled with the movements of the two bodies swaying to the whims of the accompanying music.

~~~~~~

Like the morning is always new

Give it back to you

Like the rain, it just passes through

For all you give

I'll give it back to you

~~~~~~

“You know I love you, right?” Loki murmured on the skin of her shoulder.

“Mm-hmm.”

“Then why do you say things that hurt me?”

An exhausted sigh left her. She pulled herself away ever so slightly, just enough to be able to look into his green eyes.

“I never wanted to hurt you, Loki. It’s true, isn’t it, that I don’t look as I used to. I don’t like this version of me.”

His eyes looked deep into her soul. There was a command in them, as a king would hold while addressing his subject. But it was softened by a reverence and an equally unparalleled love.

~~~~~~

I think about it like a man in need

Every time I'm gone

Wait to see you like a mile-long train

Is passing by your door

And my life is set around you now

Tangled up the same

And I'll be the one who calls your name

~~~~~~

“But I still love you,” Loki declared. “You. How you look has never mattered to me.”

She raised a playful brow at the statement.

The trickster let out a soft laugh. “I mean, I love the way you look. Any time. In any form. You have always mesmerized me, love.”

“But I disappoint myself,” tears had begun to form at the corners of her eyes.

“Why do you let your looks define you?” Loki slipped a slender finger beneath her chin and held it up. “You are a queen! It is not your looks but your attitude and your work that should define you.”

“Easy for you to say, god!”

Loki sighed in defeat. There seemed to be no way he could convince her with his words.

“Come here.” He took her by the hand, and walked to their bedroom.

“Love, I get it. I get your point,” she chuckled, assuming Loki’s “intentions”.

“No, you do not. You say that you have understood, and then I see you hating yourself all over again. Were you not the one who had taught me to love myself no matter what the world says? Were you not the one to tell me to look past my faults, and find the light inside? I did. And I found you. I found us!”

“I still love myself,” she tried to reason, “I just...it’s this mirror that I don’t like.”

“And this is exactly the reason why I need you to look at it.”

Loki positioned them to stand in front of the mirror, with her facing it while he stood behind her.

“What do you see?” He asked her reflection.

“A gorgeous god with a bag of fat,” she laughed, knowing the reaction she’d receive from him.

“You know what I see?”

“A humble god with a ravishing woman?” She jested.

“Partially correct. The woman is ravishing, yes. But the god is gorgeous, too.”

“Narcissist!” She smacked his arm playfully.

“What? One should always appreciate oneself! You are the one who has taught me that.”

“Hmm,” she hummed in agreement, letting a stubborn smile take over her features.

“But I also see a gracious amount of soft skin hidden behind this ugly piece of cloth,” Loki pulled at her t-shirt.

“Don’t you call my baggy tee ugly, mister!” She laughed.

“Shut up. It is ugly because it does not allow me to feel the warmth of your skin. Do you have any idea how much your touch soothes me? How I crave for your skin...any part of it whenever I am feeling anxious?”

“I know,” she whispered.

“Then? I see this ugly thing again, not hugging but clumsily falling over your beautiful, curvy waist,” his hands gently squeezed her waist. “You know how much I love these curves of yours. But did you know that now there is a lot more room for me to dig my fingers into as I make love to you?”

The way he was purring into her ears, and the manner in which his long fingers were slowly gripping her, made her giggle and squirm.

“Ticklish...just the way I like it. See, you do not even allow me to tickle you anymore.”

The more she wiggled under his hold, the more he continued his mischief. Their laughter filled the room until she was panting and begging him to stop.

He kissed her neck before speaking, “And these?”

His palms had now snaked up her body, stopping only when they came to rest on her breasts.

“Do you have any, any idea how much I love these?”

“I guess, I do,” she replied through ragged breaths. Either his hands were exuding magic or she must have lost her senses during the whole tickle-fight, she thought.

“No, you do not,” he breathed in her ear. Yes, it was him and not her, she was sure now.

“If you knew,” his mouth continued with the words while his hands continued with something else, “you would not have left me craving for days.”

“(Y/N)?” He turned her around to face him, “Why are you depriving me of things that I love? Things that I need for survival? I need you. All of you - the good and the bad. Although there is nothing ‘bad’ about your body but only about the way you look at it. Look at yourself the way I look at you. And then you shall see what a marvellous creation you are!”

A tear ran down her cheek. Wiping it off, she tried to laugh but almost choked on her emotions. “I still don’t understand how you can love me so much. You, a god!”

“I am,” Loki kissed her face, “but a simple man with a heart that beats for you. And yes, the most charming man in the entire universe!”

His mischievous smirk made her laugh. Loki stole the moment to pull her flush to him.

“You are my queen,” he ran a hand over her head and down her neck, “my angel. You are…the most beautiful creation that can ever exist. And never ever will you doubt yourself.” He leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Or else I shall punish you.”

A pleasant shiver ran up her spine. “Is that a threat from a god?” She whispered back.

“It is a promise from a god,” his breath warmed the shell of her ear, “and a god always keeps his promise.”

***

Taglist:

@huntress-artemiss @evelyn-kingsley@dryyoursaltyoceantears@modestlyabsurd

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strawburry01 · 13 days

Text

We're Going to Be Friends

Summary: How Y/N and Aaron first start talking during their time in college (Aaron shouldn't be let into a lab)(also yeah, listen to the song when you read if you want)

Word Count: 2k

Authors Note: I don't think anyone really noticed but I'm sorry this took a second longer than normal to get out. I just had a really weirdly abrupt and messy break up (?) and when I usually write I've just been sleeping but we are doing better now that that's been resolved but like- guys what the fuck? Anyway, this was nice to write to kinda get out of my head. Cheers xoxo

It was your first day in the forensics chemistry lab after waiting two years to even be let into the lab space. You held your bound lab notebook to your chest as you walked in alongside the rest of the class and took your places at the lab benches, silently picking your lab partners. You were with a wiry girl with big blonde curly hair and thick-rimmed glasses. Hey at least she looked smart- it meant you wouldn’t have to carry the two of you to an A grade. As the class waited for the professor to come in you couldn’t help but overhear the laughter from across the classroom. Your head looked up to the source of the noise only to see the grinning Aaron Hotchner looking at his lab partner. Aaron and you had been in many of the same classes but had never really interacted beyond the polite head nod when bumping into each other. Sure there was nothing wrong with him, in fact, there was a lot that was right with him. He was handsome, in a bit of a nerdy Clark Kent sort of way, always looking like he rolled out of bed effortlessly and threw him glasses on before running to class. He was also fairly nice when it came to the general population. The Criminal Justice pathway in uni was highly competitive so it often meant everyone was insanely cutthroat, but he was always offering hints and help to others you’d notice. He was smart, very smart, but was very humble about it, in a way that only someone watching him could really realize how much he knew, and unfortunately, you did. Not even purposefully, but your eyes always had a way of falling onto the back of his head in class. Perhaps it was because he was the most attractive man in the cohort, or perhaps it was because you were just so intrigued at his charm.

The lab started and you were drawn from your thoughts as you tied your hair back and slipped on the snug safety goggles, glad that they even made everyone, even him, look a little bit dorkier. You and your lab partner (who you found out went by Jen), started setting up the titration and you pulled out your lab notebook to start writing the results down. The two of you small-talked about classes and movies as she slowly let the base solution drip into the acid, waiting for it to eventually turn pink. After running through a round you two switched positions and you leaned over as you tried to line up the new beaker under the buret.

Swiftly there was a new figure besides you. At first you assumed it was the professor, about to harass you about some incorrect technique or form, but you were surprised to see it was Aaron. He grinned as he looked down at you, and you suddenly felt very self conscious about leaning over so far in front of the buret. You quickly snapped up, standing straight, focusing on the buret with a reddening face.

“You’re Y/N right?” he asked. How he knew your name was beyond you, you’d never really talked to him before beyond a few yes or no’s.

“Yeah,” you answered, trying to maintain a calm demeanor, still intently focusing on the meniscus in the buret.

“Do you know where the sodium hydroxide is? I need some more,” he asked.

“Um, it’s just over there, you should just have to pipette it into your beaker,” you said, pointing to the dark brown container kept under the chemistry hood. His mouth formed an ‘o’ as he slowly nodded looking over.

“I see, thank you!” he said in a chipper demeanor as he walked over.

“What the hell was that about?” Jen asked, jumping onto anything other than the mundane topics. Your face reddened again as you didn’t even know what the hell that was about.

“What do you mean?” you asked, turning to face her, but before she could elaborate Aaron was back.

“Hey Y/N have you used one of those automatic pipettes before?” he asked sheepishly, holding a still empty beaker. You finally turned to face him and looked up. God he really was tall, or were you just short…nevermind that all.

“Have you not?” you asked, a bit shocked he’d gotten this far without having been subjected to one in high school or the general labs. He grinned again shrugged,

“Think you can help a poor guy out?”. You felt your stomach do a bit of a flip as you mumbled some sort of an agreement under your breath. He handed you the beaker once you were at the sodium hydroxide and you tried to explain the process and how to use the pipette. He made sure to make a dramatic show of nodding before you handed him back his beaker. You handed him back the beaker and stared at him a second before rolling your eyes,

“You know how to do this you little-” you started going off at him before he grinned mischievously,

“You do it so good though!” he exclaimed and nudged your arm which did shut you up, “You always just seem like you know what you’re doing,” he added.

“I don’t know about- ah- thanks,” you mumbled as you looked around the room, trying to avoid eye contact, not knowing where any of this was coming from. Has he really been paying attention to you this whole time? He thought you were smart? He thought you knew what you were doing? Was he complimenting you? He laughed and walked back to his lab bench as you went back to yours and apologized to Jen.

“You still don’t know what that’s all about?” she laughed under her breath as she pointed her pencil at you. Going back to the buret you shook your head.

“Honest to god I didn’t even think he knew my name,” you said, with a small smile, “he just wanted me to do his damn work for him though,”.

Another hour later once the lab was about halfway done your feet started hurting from standing for so long. You regretted not wearing better ones, but how were you supposed to know… As you were stretching your back and trying to get comfortable you made eye contact with Aaron from across the lab. The goofball had a thing of sodium hydroxide right next to him on his side of the lab this whole time. He never needed to come to your side. Instead of looking away he smiled and waved. You snorted to yourself and bit your bottom lip as you quickly waved back before looking back to your experiment.

After the tortuous three hour lab was finally done you let down your hair and threw your lab goggles into your backpack, catching yourself in a mirror on the way out and realizing just how bad the marks left behind on your face were.

“Raccoon eyes!” Jen laughed as she appeared by you in the mirror, finding herself in a similar situation.

“How the hell are we supposed to be taken seriously on campus like this?” you laughed as you tried to see if pulling on your skin helped at all, but much to your chagrin it did nothing.

“I mean they’ll just be jealous we get to do labs instead of just lecture all day,” Jen hummed as she waved goodbye. You smiled and waved back as you threw your backpack over your shoulder and moved to follow.

“Y/N!” Aaron yelled from behind you, getting you to look over your shoulder, “Look we’re twins,” he laughed as he pointed to his face, also having deep marks from the goggles around his glasses on his forehead and cheeks. You couldn’t help but laugh not only at his comment but also how absurd it was that he was now treating you like a close friend.

“I think we all learned our lesson today with the goggles,” you said as you started walking out, with him falling into step beside you.

“You heard the professor: goggles on, risk gone,” he recited, doing an excellent impression of your professor which garnered another laugh from you. “Hey, so I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a while, but um, do you want to study together? You’ve always been getting the top grades in our classes and you don’t seem like a total nerd…” he said, trailing off as he tried to think of a way to finish the sentence.

“A total nerd?” you asked, faking shock at his accusation.

“See- you can take a joke,” he defended himself and holding his hands up, holding the door open for you with his hip, “I’m trying to get into the FBI, y’know, and I know I heard you are too, so I was thinking of proposing a sort of pact?” he continued to explain, glancing down to see your reaction. You met his eyes before quickly darting back down. It’s true, you did want to be a part of the FBI, as stupid a dream it sounded some days. At the beginning of the year one of your classes had you all go around and discuss what you wanted to do in the long-run, mostly just so then the professor could guilt you into remembering you saying that when students were struggling.

“I’ll bite,” you say simply with a nod, “you’re really stand out in the psychology classes,” you added.

“And you’re a genius at the science stuff!” he said, turning to walk backwards in front of you, keeping his pace right ahead of yours as he talked facing you, “you’re seeing the vision!”. You couldn’t help but laugh again as you looked at him getting giddy.

“Okay okay, don’t trip,” you said as you pulled his wrist so he was back in step with you, both of you smiling like idiots at this point, knowing that this would be the start of a special friendship.

A/N yeah I'll stand by Aaron being a total college himbo (/endearing) and I'll probably write whatever big event causes him to get serious near the end of his time in college and turn into the daddy hotch we know and love.

#aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #hotch #college au

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lily-fics-11 · 2 months

Text

The Girl Next Door: Chapter 2 (Hazel Callahan, Bottoms)

Fic master post here (feel free to comment to be added to taglist)

The Girl Next Door

You hadn't been close with your neighbor Hazel for years. But you find her beat up in the locker room after fight club and all of that changes.

Chapter 2

Car rides with Hazel have you falling for her harder than ever.

CW: mentions of blood and injury, mentions of violence, cursing, Taylor Swift references (I know not everyone is a fan so if people don't like it, I won't add anymore) *not beta read

You and Hazel walk to your car in silence. You get in the car and pass her the aux. “You still listen to Taylor Swift?” She asks shyly.

“Of course I do!” You tell her with the biggest smile. She remembers your favorite singer. Does she remember all the times you would sing those songs together?

“What do you think about the new albums? And the re-recordings?” Hazel sounds excited to talk about Taylor Swift too, she remembers.

“The 10 Minute Version of All Too Well has literally changed my life.”

“Should I put it on?”

“Absolutely!”

Before you know it you are on your way home, scream singing the 10 Minute Version of All Too Well, with Hazel. Since the song came out you’ve been listening to it over and over and thinking about her. There were so many lyrics that reminded you of your relationship with her.

Her sweet disposition, and your wide eyed gaze. Being able to picture it after all these days. You might be okay but you’re not fine at all. How you got lost in translation. You had lost the one real thing you had ever known. It was rare, you were there, you remember it all to well.

But singing these lyrics with her, it was healing all those old wounds in a way you didn’t know was possible. You were stealing glances to see the smile on her face. Sometimes she would catch your gaze. As the words “ever lovely jewel” play she’s looking right at you.

Usually you were happy to live so close to the school. It was convenient. But with Hazel beside you it just wasn’t enough time. It’s hard to keep the smile on your face as you pull into your driveway, knowing that your time together is about to end.

As soon as you are parked Hazel throws open the door, like she’s trying to run away.

“Wait!” You yell at her, wondering why she’s so anxious the get out of your car. You do have to admit that this was a little overwhelming for you and it probably was for her too. She was the one that left you. She probably never wanted to be in this situation.

She’s halfway out the door when she acknowledges you. She doesn’t say anything, just stares at you.

You nervously clear your throat.

“I just wanted to see if 8:00 was good for tomorrow morning…”

“Yeah. Yes. See you then.” Is all she has to say before she’s out and walking away from your car.

You were hurt for a moment but you started to watch her walk away and you realized that her wearing your sweatshirt meant that she was wearing your last name across her back. You just started giggling and then you punched your fist in the air and said “yes” when you thought about the smell of your perfume being stuck on her, even if it was only for a little while. You were never religious but you point up at the sky and say thank you.

That night you spent about an hour curating the perfect outfit and set your alarm for an extra hour early so you would have time to perfect your makeup.

When your alarm goes off the next morning you are immediately up and getting ready for the day, which is as stark contrast to your usual slamming of the snooze button.

You usually just filled in your eyebrows and put on mascara for school but today you were going to be the first person Hazel saw and you wanted to stay on her mind all day.

You start with your face. A little bronzer to warm up your face and a little blush to liven you up. Some highlighter on your cheekbones and the tip of your nose to catch light, and Hazel's attention. You also add a bit of highlighter to the inner corner of your eyes to draw her eyes right where you wanted it. You add a subtle wing to further accentuate your eyes and then do your usual mascara and brow routine. You finish off with your lips. You over-line them with a darker brown and fill them in with a nude lipstick to make them look as full as they can. You add a layer of lip gloss on top to make them look as inviting as possible. Not that you expect anything to come of this, but you can dream, right?

Your light wash ripped jeans are high waisted and perfectly hug the shape of your body. Your shirt is the perfect amount of low cut to highlight your assets and short enough to expose a tasteful amount of midriff. You put on your trusty pair of converse for good luck.

You are in your car a few minutes early feeling a mixture of nerves and excitement. You sip on your coffee as you wait for Hazel.

The clock hits 8:00, no Hazel. Not a problem though. You told her a few minutes early because you know she has a tendency to run late. That girl is nothing if not easily distracted.

Hazel emerges from her house at 8:05 looking a little disheveled. She’s got hair sticking up out of place and she’s wearing… holy shit she is wearing your sweatshirt again!

Hazel plops down into your car. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be late. I was just thinking about… things, and lost track of time.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You tell her, and you can’t help yourself from pointing out “I see that you’re still wearing my sweatshirt.”

Her eyes widen, pupils dilating, and a bright red flush appears on her face.

“I, um, fell asleep in it last night. And I didn’t have time to find another sweatshirt after getting dressed,” she tries excuse but you don’t need any justification. It takes everything in you not to giggle and kick your feet. Your sweatshirt. On Hazel all night. The smell of your perfume on her and now on her pillows and sheets.

You just nod, “makes sense.”

“I didn’t even have time to make coffee,” she shakes her head in disappointment.

You are not really sure what caffeine would do to someone like Hazel but you still offer “you can have some of mine.” You didn’t think it was possible, but she is blushing even more.

“No, it’s totally fine. It’s my fault I don’t have any coffee. I’m the one that got distracted. You shouldn’t have to give up any of your coffee because I’m a mess.”

“I don’t usually finish it before it gets cold. So feel free to go for it.”

She doesn’t say anything.

“We used to share everything, right?” You remind her.

“We used to share everything.” She echos.

She mumbles something under her breath that you can’t quite make out. But to your surprise she picks up the coffee and takes a sip.

You bite down a smile when you see a bit of your lipstick on her mouth, it must have gotten left behind from when you were drinking it.

“What?” She questions, seeing your failed attempt at holding back a smile.

“You’ve got a little something…” you motion to your mouth.

She looks confused and opens the visor to look in the mirror. You expect her to be upset that your lipstick got on her but she just giggles. “Believe me, this color looks very good on you, but I think it looks even better on me.”

You can’t help but giggle too.

To your surprise she doesn’t bother to wipe the lipstick off, she just leaves it there. Leaving behind the indirect connection of your lips for anyone to see. Not your ideal way to leave your lipstick on her lips but you can’t complain either.

Your sweatshirt. Your lipstick. You feel like you are going to pass out.

You clear your throat, “we should probably get going…” Hazel nods in agreement.

You turn on the car and put it in reverse.

“Can I have the aux?” She asks.

“Go for it.” You pull out of the driveway.

“I made us a playlist.” Your jaw drops and you accidentally slam on the breaks.

You look at Hazel and Hazel looks at you in a panic. “I’m so sorry!” You tell her.

“It’s ok, it’s fine, it’s all good,” she tries to assure you but she is clearly fearing for her life. How stupid could you be? Hazel will never get in your car again after this!

You just stare at her for a minute trying to gauge where she’s at. She clears her throat. “You should probably drive now…” she suggests.

You just nod and start to drive, focusing on the road, afraid to make eye contact.

“So, the playlist,” she says very hesitantly, “it’s all the Taylor Swift songs we haven’t gotten to listen to together.”

Your mouth drops open and you are speechless.

Her eyes widen, and she quickly tries remedy the situation “if you don’t want to listen to it we don’t have to!”

“No! That’s not it. I’m just surprised. That’s all.” You mumble, just clear enough for her to understand what you are saying.

“I always used to make us playlists,” it’s her turn to remind you. The memory is a little bittersweet, tainted by the years of separation. Music starts playing over the speaker.

If there is one thing people should know about Hazel it’s that she’s a talker. She can talk about anything and everything for hours on end. But in the best way possible. She always puts a smile on the face of whoever she is talking to. It’s quite endearing.

Hazel goes off on a tangent about fight club. After telling you the story of how she ended up in the state you found her in yesterday she pauses for a moment.

“You could always come with me today, to fight club. We meet everyday after school.” She shyly offers.

“Hazel I don’t know if you remember the blood all over you yesterday, but I do. And you have a black eye.” You are thinking it but neglect to mention how the black eye and smear of your lipstick are making you feel a certain type of way.

“Yes there are, side effects, but it’s worth it to learn how to defend yourself. I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you.” That last part comes out as more of a mumble that may not have been intended for you to hear.

You start to take the offer into consideration. How far are you willing to go to spend more time with Hazel? You don’t want to seem desperate, doing something you clearly don’t want to do just for her. So you ask “Isabel and Brittany are in the club, right?” They are two of your very close friends.

“Yeah, and a bunch of other girls. I promise that everyone is really nice. Everyone except PJ. No one is trying to hurt you. Everyone except PJ. But if you are worried about who you are going to have to fight, you can just pair up with me until you get comfortable. You know I would never do anything to hurt you.” A lump forms in your throat and you focus on the road, afraid that if you look at her you will burst into tears. If asked at the age of 13 you would have said that Hazel would never in a million years do anything to hurt you. You absolutely believe she would never physically harm you. But she didn’t just break your heart, she ripped it out of your chest and stomped on it. If anything you would have preferred for her to have punched you square in the face. That pain would have only been temporary. A million thoughts are swimming through your mind but you snap back into reality once you realize that you just parked your car.

You thought the pain of losing Hazel was the worst thing you would ever feel. But now that you are thinking about it, missing out on the opportunity to get Hazel back would be astronomically worse. You remind yourself that you wouldn’t be getting Hazel in the way that you truly want her. But it was better than not having her at all. You turn towards her and she is looking at you expectantly.

You let out a deep breath you don’t know you were holding in when you tell her: “fuck it, I’m in.” Her face lights up.

“It’s going to be great,” she assures you, “I promise.” She holds out her pinky and you feel butterflies in your stomach. You hook your pinky around hers and you both kiss your thumbs. The way you always used to.

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fire-lizard-ro · 9 days

Note

Ah yes. I've come to inquire about a certain blond fellow with the pretty eyes. Aventurine

So here's my bit. Reader is going through a break up with Aventurine and then they make up. I'm writing this while attention (females perspective)is playing in my mind. Maybe you could like incorporate it into the ask. Because I'm thinking in a way that the reader is trying to get Aventurines attention whilst keeping him at a distance. Sor of cat and mouse. And he's buying into it though he's much prefer without the sneakiness.

Also I hope this asks finds you in good spirits and a joyful mood. Caio.

Okay, okay- I have no clue what attention is. A song? I’m not good at this game help-

Anyways I will try my best.

Thank you sm for the ask. 🫶

I really do love this twinky little blond man and I’m happy to be writing about him.

It’s like two in the morning rn and I’m rambling here to distract myself from things. ANY!!! WAYS!!!

No gender is mentioned for the reader.

CW: exactly one (1) 2.1 spoiler (Aventurine’s real name- It’s at the very end), break up-make up time, mild angst bc ofc there is it’s Aventurine, hurt/comfort, happy ending hehe 🫶

Writing under the cut (SFW):

You couldn’t help but smile as you saw a certain someone’s nickname flashing across your screen. Right on time.

Though you supposed he knew what you were doing. After all, Aventurine is smart. Even if he didn’t realize it right away, he had to know by now.

You picked up the phone.

“Well hello, stranger. To what do I owe the honor?” It was hard to keep the sly lilt and inflection out of your voice when you knew he was definitely gripping his phone tightly on the other end of the line.

“I’m sure you know, dear. You’re slick but not that slick. You’ll have to do better than that to outplay me,” Aventurine said, his voice still fixed in that unhurried cadence and unbothered tone like usual despite the situation.

You rested your cheek on a hand and leaned back in your seat with a smile. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. In any case, it’s a bit odd of you to call me. After all, we did break up. You remember that, I’m sure.”

You could practically hear the leather of his gloves crunching (is it crunching I forgot-) as he clenched a fist, keeping hold of his restraint.

The two of you had been dancing around each other like cat and mouse. Though at this point, who was the cat and who was the mouse was anyone’s guess.

Despite having gotten to the point of breaking up, you ended up missing him a lot. And thus you began the dance only to find his hand already waiting for you. It was unspoken that you both wanted the same thing. But every time he drew closer, you’d pull back. A frustrating back and forth that seemed to confuse him. Aventurine was sure you wanted him back. And yet you never let the cat finally catch his prey. Why? He didn’t get it.

“Oh sweetheart- Let’s not keep pretending, yes? I know you’ve been trying to catch my attention. You can’t hide your intentions.”

“Seems it’s working, then.”

It was true. You had been doing things to keep Aventurine’s eyes on you. Despite playing a game of keep away with him with how you’d draw him in and push him away, you didn’t want him looking at anyone else. At the same time, you weren’t sure if you’d truly be willing to get together again. What if the train went off the tracks again? The first time had been rough enough with the two of you waging a passive aggressive war and pointedly ignoring each other at some points.

And thus, this odd little game of yours. One that Aventurine was growing tired of it he had finally called you.

“Let’s talk in person, shall we?” “What-?”

A knock at the door. No fucking way- You opened the door to see your favorite the blond man himself.

“Hiya, darling dearest~”

“Aventurine.”

“No need to be like that. I was serious about that talk.” He then pulled a bouquet of your favorite flowers out from behind his back. “For you,” Aventurine said with that stupid charming smirk of his. You squinted at him for a moment before accepting the flowers with a huff and a faux annoyed, “Fine.”

You were a bit conflicted. You were excited that he was here. Especially because he seemed desperate enough to actually seek you out and talk to you in person. But at the same time this was not something you calculated or expected to happen.

“I know you’re glad to see me. You don’t have to pretend,” he practically purred as you shot a glare over your shoulder, still keeping up appearances. “Oh but of course- I’m absolutely just tickled pink.”

Aventurine chuckled, tipping his head down to look at you over his shades, lids low and eyes practically glowing. “You always did have a way with words, sweetheart.”

He then took off the sunglasses (and oh that was another stupid, dorky little thing about him you found oddly endearing- shades inside a building- stupid silly adorable man-) and plopped down on your couch while you put the flowers down on the counter in the kitchen. You’d deal with them later. For now you had him to deal with. You sat in the chair instead of the couch. He pouted playfully about it, but didn’t comment. “I’ll cut to the chase- I want you back. And I know you want me back, too. I just can’t figure out why you’re leading me closer and then shoving me away. I’m starting to get the feeling you just like my attention. But even so- We both know the truth. So why don’t you just give in, lovely? I know you want to,” he said, surprisingly not using the old song and dance of leading someone around to get the information he wanted. He didn’t talk in circles and didn’t even seem all that flirty despite his words. He was… oddly serious.

“And what about the reason we broke up before?” You didn’t even try to pretend anymore. Aventurine has always been able to see right through you. That ability had clearly not gone anywhere. “I can’t make promises, but we can talk. We’ll work something out. I’ll even compromise on it.” Compromise was not an Aventurine word. Any deals he made were made in his favor without the other person even knowing what they were going to lose. Your incredulity must have been showing on your face more than you thought because he laughed lightly, the sound somehow dry- tired and heavy. “I see that look. I’m serious, baby. I’m sorry I ever let you go. You’re the only one who stayed. The only one who has stuck around. I need you. I’ll give it all to you. My attention, my trust, my… my heart, even. You don’t have to play these games to make me want you.”

Now you feel a bit guilty. But at the same time, elated. Even before you broke up, he never once brought up matters of trust and love. He seemed far too uncomfortable even edging around the topic. But now Aventurine was the first one to bring it up.

You said nothing but silently stood. And his eyes dimmed, waiting for disappointment. But then you walked over and sat next to him, pulling him into a hug. “I missed you, Aven.”

He let out a shaky sigh and wrapped you up in his embrace, arms tight around you.

“Kakavasha.”

“What?”

“You should tell me, ‘I missed you, Kakavasha,’” he (Kakavasha?) said, his voice was shaky with emotion.

“I… I missed you, Kakavasha.”

“And I love you, sweetheart.”

#roro writes #asks answered #gn reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x gn reader #hsr x gn reader #honkai star rail aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine x reader #aventurine x reader #aventurine x gn reader #ew I’m a SAP #I had to give him a good ending like come ON #my lil Aven 🥺🥺🥺#if this is all over the place and talking in circles #then my apologies big dawg #LMFAO-#it’s like 2 in the morning I speed wrote this

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periracha · 4 months

Text

Waiting

☾ pairing: Dad!Chan x Mom!Reader ☾ wc: 2k ☾ genre: fluff, boring domesticity (gasp) ☾ cw: Christmas themes, kids, suggestive jokes, me trying to be funny idk, language, chan being chan ☾ summary: the bangs get in the holiday spirit! ☾ a/n: wanted to get a whole aesthetic and masterlist up for this blog before i posted anything but this little idea had my brain in a chokehold all day so,,,,enjoy ! also, let me know if I should continue writing this family so i can give them names, etc. yes this piece is fluff but this blog is 18+, MDNI

Ripples start to splash against the inside of your mug as you set it down on the coffee table that has been pushed aside for the evening to allow enough room for you and your husband.

“Clearing the living room floor the second both kids are down and out?” Chan asks with a wiggle of his eyebrow.

“Bit risky but I can work with this” he says while straining his neck and pulling his left arm across his chest in a stretch in preparation.

You look up at him when a scoff falls from your lips, “ha yeah you wish. Now get the wrapping paper from the closet”

“Please” you add with a sarcastic smile and sweet like honey tone.

He blinked at you silently for a split second before he huffed out a big sigh, “Oh thank god. I don’t think my back could handle these hardwood floors like it used to” he finishes as he makes his way to the hallway closet.

“Mmm unfortunately the only action these floors have been getting lately is spilled juice and probably some dusty cheetos the kids kicked under the couch” you joke as Chan meets you on the floor with wrapping supplies and gifts.

A quiet laugh in agreement leaves his lips.

“She’s gonna love this” Chan says with a grin so wide it meets his eyes.

He’s holding up a Bluey plushie that plays a few catchphrases from the show when its paw is squeezed.

“She better…. I’m running out of reasons why she can’t buy it every time we go to the store” you say as you cut wrapping paper big enough to wrap the doll and hand it to him.

Your daughter had wanted this little plushie for months now, always asking to stop by the toy section whenever you visit your local department store. You quickly learned that simply telling her the store didn’t have anymore wasn’t gonna fly with her. She always found a way to swindle you into the toy aisles, finding the plushie every time. Distracting her with books or other small toys could only get you so far; luckily Christmas was only a few days away and you both would soon see the joy on her face when she opened her gift.

“How do you even wrap these things??” Chan huffed out with a bewildered look on his face; his brows drawn tight and his eyes wide open. The piece of wrapping paper you had given him was creased all over, and covered in way too many pieces of tape that didn’t actually do anything to keep the paper together.

A giggle started in your chest but you choked it down with a fake cough. Chan was used to being good at almost anything he put his mind to.

Dancing? Easy.

Singing? No Problem.

Writing thousands of unique songs that differed in their own ways? Piece of cake.

Sports? Absolutely.

Wrapping a small gift for his three year old daughter? Not so much.

Carefully, you took the small doll from his hand and replaced it with a box of bath toys for your son.

“Here, let me handle this…and you wrap these” you said nonchalantly as soon as you made the switch; immediately working on your new task at hand.

Chan gawked at you with a goofy smile on his face, “You don’t think I can do it?...you’re demoting me to only wrapping boxes?” he laughed while feigning offense.

“No no no!”, you waved off, “you’re just soooo good! Better than me! The best actually!” you rushed out while trying to contain your laughter but ultimately failing.

Chan looked at you with pointed eyes, but had a wide smile plastered on his face the entire time. He looked like he was going to say something in retaliation but decided against it, letting out a small chuckle and shaking his head instead while he got to work on the box.

Many presents later you were both feeling the ache deep in your lower back from hunching over on the floor.

“Okay that's enough for me, I’m tapping out,” Chan said stretching his back with a yawn.

You yawned and simply shook your head up and down in agreement, thinking about how you were too tired to even keep your eyes open.

You got up and gathered all your wrapping supplies to store away.

“Oh! Can you take all those and put them under the tree?” you asked him while pointing to the group of gifts.

He hummed a quick mhm and started gathering them in his arms.

“Make sure to put Bluey on top of the one of the taller presents so they can’t get to it” you called out as you made your way to your room.

“Yep, got it” Chan quickly responded before placing all the presents down and making his way to follow you to your bedroom.

The next day went blissfully as usual; waking up way too early to cries before the sun is even fully out, only to finally get your son back down and you barely back in bed before your daughter barges in demanding French toast stat.

Did you even have all the ingredients for french toast?

You already got one kid handled, Chan could handle this one.

You lightly kicked him in the leg as he laid beside you to wake him up before you made yourself comfortable to fall back asleep.

When you did wake up, you grabbed your son and met your husband and daughter in the living room, setting him down to crawl around the rug.

“Good morning love”, Chan greeted you with a kiss to your cheek and sliding his arms around your waist in a loose hug.

You hummed a good morning back before resting your head against his chest.

“My turn! My turn!” your daughter yelled entirely too close to your eardrum as she stood on the couch in an attempt to be as eye level as she could with you.

“Coffee?” Chan asked with a smirk as he let you go and made his way to the kitchen.

“Ohhh yeah” you answered before turning your attention fully on your daughter.

She puckered her lips and stood on her tiptoes in an attempt to copy her dad’s previous actions. You bent down and she kissed your cheek, “Good morning, mommy!”, she giggled before flopping down on the couch.

“Oh it is a good morning!” you smiled back to her before tickling her to get some hugs in.

Chan met you back in the living room with your fresh cup of coffee as you both sat on the couch, watching your children play together in the early morning hours.

Your son crawled towards the christmas tree and before you could get up to grab him he had already bumped into a few presents, causing one of them to go off.

“Hello! Hehehe”

The noise immediately caught your daughter's attention and her head snapped towards the tree before her eyes widened. You could see the wheels starting to turn in her head to try and make sense of what just happened when you looked over at Chan who was sporting a mortified look. Jaw hung open and downward, eyes widening and moving around the room at everyone’s faces.

The damn Bluey doll had gone off and one of her most wanted presents was most likely spoiled now.

“WHAT WAS THAT?” she rushed out, walking closer to the tree.

“Your brother!” Chan blurted out way too quickly before tightening his lip into a flat line, realizing what he just did.

Your daughter stopped dead in her tracks and looked at the both of you.

“What???” she asked again, her eyes darting between yours and Chan’s a few times.

“He can talk??, “ she screamed, bewildered at the new information being thrown at her all too quickly, pointing at him and eyes wide as saucers.

You let out a huff of air and forced yourself to take a sip of your coffee, hoping to buy you some time, waiting for your brain to kick on. It was too early for this.

Chan looked at you waiting for you to come in and save the conversation but you had nothing. How were you supposed to convince a 3 year old that her 8 month old brother could now speak when he’s never done that before.

You’re on your own here. You thought to yourself as your eyes met Chan’s again. His face still stuck in the same shocked expression.

“Uhh…yeah..yeah…?” Chan tried to get out nonchalantly but it ended up coming out more like a question and high pitched tone, before clearing his throat.

Your son had now crawled toward your daughter and started grabbing at her legs to get her attention.

You needed a moment to think but your daughter would absolutely follow you wherever you went to…. Unless…?

You coughed into your arm dramatically, “ooooh mommy needs medicine, I will be right back” you said before quickly standing up and making your way to the hallway cabinets before she could stop you.

Even the possibility of being around cough medicine, seeing it with her own eyes, was enough to keep your daughter from following you. She was not about to risk having to take that, yucky grape stuff, as she likes to call it.

Chan followed after you, staying in the open area to keep an eye on the two kids.

“So our 8 month old is saying full words now is he?” you asked, raising your eyebrows when he got closer to you.

“I panicked okay!”, he screamed in a hushed tone.

“So you blame it on the baby?!” you asked in disbelief, a laugh starting in the bottom of your throat. You tightened your lips in an effort to stop the smile you knew was coming.

“What else was I supposed to say it came from?” Chan asked with a strained laugh, “you were no help!” he accused, pointing his finger and narrowing his gaze.

“I don’t know Chan! The TV? Your phone?” you huffed out off the top of your head and throwing your hands in the air.

“Hm. yeah that would’ve been good”, he said staring at the floor, realizing just how easy those would’ve been to explain away to a child.

He stepped back from you to get a better look at your kids a few steps away. His brow furrowed so you stepped forward to see what he was looking at.

Your daughter was sitting directly across from your son with a serious expression on her face, no more playing going on in sight.

“What..what are you guys doing?” Chan asked loud enough for your kids to hear.

Your daughter looked back at him, “Waiting,” she said matter of factly before refocusing her attention back on her brother.

“Waiting foorrr?” Chan asked, raising his eyebrows as you both took a step toward them.

“Him to talk again” she answered without bothering to even look at Chan this time, her serious gaze never leaving her brother's face. He was babbling and drooling while playing with the legs of her pajama pants.

You both couldn’t contain the laughs that came from your mouths. Today was going to be a long day.

You couldn’t wipe the smile from your face as you thought about your family’s antics. Never a boring day in the Bang household, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Hey Chan, what did you do with the matching talking Bingo we wrapped last night?”

“Shit”

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folkloresthings · 8 months

Note

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE — send a muse + a song and i’ll write a little drabble for it.

Hi, can I ask for a little drabble for Carlos Sainz and illicit affairs by Taylor Swift? ❤️

also congratulations on your achievement ❤️

ILLICIT AFFAIRS. ❨ carlos sainz x reader ❩

“jump in.”

the ferrari had pulled up beside you before you’d even registered it, the window rolled down to reveal carlos’ soft smile behind the steering wheel. it had started raining on your walk back to the hotel, and your jacket draped over your head wasn’t doing much to keep you dry. you glance behind you, but the street is empty. there’s no one to spot you getting a ride from a certain driver.

hurriedly slipping into the front seat, your jacket chucked into the back, you sigh happily at the warmth of the car. glancing over, you find carlos’ gaze already resting on you, big and brown and soft. your throat dries up, despite having sat in this very car twenty times before.

“thanks.”

he nods, starting the car again and driving off down the road. he had been headed back to the hotel too, but misses the turn in and carries on along the monaco streets.

“where are we going?” you chirp, hoping it doesn’t go too high pitched when his hand reaches across to rest comfortably on your thigh. his lips tug upward, but he keeps his eyes ahead of him.

“you’ll see.”

there’s no one else about on the lookout point, parking lot empty of life besides the two of you. the whole of monaco is on display to you, sun setting just behind the horizon, lights beginning to glisten on the buildings. the radio hums softly from the speakers, soundtracking the silence between you.

both of you had been doing this little dance for months now. stolen glances and slipping hotel cards into your purse in passing. meeting under dark, hands barely brushing when other eyes were on you. carlos had a relationship to keep up for the cameras — a model that his pr team had chosen. you were just for behind closed doors.

“carlos?”

he looks over to you, his eyes so full of love, and you wonder how he can keep it hidden from the world. you wanted all of him, to bring him to your friend’s parties and christmas at your parents house. you wanted to walk down the street and not fear that a camera might catch you holding his hand.

“yes, mi amor?” he asks, watching the many thoughts racing through your glazed eyes. “what’s going on in that head of yours, hm?”

you sigh, sinking further into your seat. “how long can we go on like this?”

carlos quiets then, the smile that had been resting on such plump lips fading to a pensive line. he knew the truth — you both did, even if you didn’t want to admit it to yourself. nights like these would be perfect, your own little paradise, before the memory of them died the next morning.

“baby…”

you shake your head, tears threatening to spill the second his pet names ring out. you knew what was coming, promises that blurred into lies. “don’t call me that. not unless you mean it.”

he looks at you then, confusion painted on his features. you could have slapped him then, pretending like he didn’t know just what you were talking about. “unless we can make this real. i’m tired of hiding and pretending i’m not desperately in love with you, carlos. i’m tired of you not being able to take me out to dinner, or to support you at your races, or to hold you hand in public. i’m tired.”

“you know i can’t—” carlos stutters out, lost for what he can say. he won’t ever call you his, because you never could be. and no matter how much you wanted to cry and scream and hit him until he saw sense, he wasn’t yours to lose.

the worst part was, no matter how exhausting this love was, it was all you had. he had taken your life and painted it colours you’d never even known existed. everything had been better since carlos had stolen your heart away, but it was only better in secret.

“take me back to the hotel,” you whisper, head ducking to hide your tears from him. he reaches over, his chest aching. god, he hated making you feel like this — but he wouldn’t make promises he couldn’t keep. “please?”

your big, wet eyes find his in the dark of the car and he caves. nodding slowly, starting up the engine and pulling out of the parking lot. the drive back is slow and silent, even the radio can’t bare to be on. every so often you sniffle, wiping away a stray tear from your cheek, and carlos resists every urge to pull the car over and bundle you into his arms.

when the glow of the lobby is in sight, you finally look at him again. his own eyes are a little glossy and you know he’s holding every emotion in, deep deep down. he always did with you, never wanting to break. you reach over the centre console, soft lips pressing to his cheek. his eyes flutter shut, holding onto the feeling of your kiss lingering on his skin.

“we can work something out,” the spaniard gives it one last try, begging eyes turning to you. you’re so close to giving in, caving at any sign of his affection, but your heart knows it can’t take another beating.

“goodbye, carlos,” you whisper, hand squeezing his with a sad sort of smile. you slip out, fingers lingering on the closed door. you want him to get out, to follow you upstairs and beg for your mercy as he pleasures every inch of you. disappointment reigns when his car pulls away, disappearing into the monaco night. perhaps the last time you’ll ever see him — perhaps the last time your heart will ever love again.

#🍾 ﹐ becca hits 1k!#🌙 ﹐ drabbles.#formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #carlos sainz #carlos sainz drabble #carlos sainz blurb #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x reader

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caapsiizzereads · 9 months

Note

I lvoe how a majority of the jamie tartt fic readers/writers are swifties, so i was wondering if you wanted to write a fic based on labyrinth? One of them has a tumultuous relationship with romance and doesn’t know how to react to a good partner and the possibility of falling in love again but ultimately ending up embracing it. Love your fics!

I ALWAYS want to write a fic based on a Taylor song. This one is for all of my self-sabotaging girlies. Also, anon, congrats and thank you for being my first request! Hope you like this🫶

You never bring the guys that you’re dating to your friend gatherings, but this is a special occasion. It’s your best friend’s boyfriend’s birthday this weekend, and he’s a huge Richmond fan, and you know you will get some major brownie points if you bring Jamie with you. Well, also, Erin insisted that you have to bring him “while he’s still here.”

God, this is embarrassing. You and Jamie met less than a month ago and have only been on a few dates.

“…You totally don’t have to–”

“No, no, sure! I’ll come! I love meeting fans,” he grins cockily.

“I regret this already,” you sigh.

—

“He seems nice,” Erin says when you get the chance to talk alone.

You shrug. “I guess he is.”

Jamie meets your eyes across the room and smiles at you.

“I think he really likes you,” she gives you a suggestive look.

You roll your eyes. “We’ve been, like, on three dates.”

“It leaves him with what, two more?” she jokes. She knows how it goes for you. You go out with a guy a few times, have a good time, and then dump him before it can turn into something else.

—

You’re on your way from the party when you notice Jamie sparing you careful glances, like he has something on his mind but second-guesses saying it.

“What?”

“I’ve been talking to Matt, and he, uh, mentioned a guy named Owen,” he starts cautiously. You sigh loudly. “You can totally tell me to fuck off, it’s none of my business…”

“It’s fine. You can ask if you want. It’s not like it’s a secret or anything.”

“So, what’s the story there?”

“We met when I was in my third year of uni, two years later, we got married, lived supposedly happily for three more years, until he cheated on me.” You say it all so casually, like you’re just reciting some story you’ve told many times before. “And then had the fucking audacity to say that I had changed too much. But what really happened was that I was making more money than him, and he couldn’t fucking deal with it.” Okay, now you sound petty. “Anyways, fuck him.” The resentful tone of your voice lets Jamie know that this was as much as you are willing to talk about it. You leave out the part where you really loved the guy, and you haven’t been in even a remotely committed relationship ever since.

—

You don’t really care much about Jamie knowing about your shitshow of a marriage, it’s not like it matters anyway. If anything, maybe he won’t be as surprised or disappointed when you inevitably cut him off. You like him: he’s cute, he’s funny, he’s pretty, and you enjoy your time together. You’ve never had any complaints about the quality of the time that you provide for your dates either, so by the end of the day, it’s a fair trade.

Except that Jamie doesn’t seem to get the hint at all. He keeps asking you out and somehow every time manages to make you say yes. He keeps finding new ways to make you laugh, keeps remembering all the little things he gets to learn about you, keeps finding his way into your embrace. It’s so easy to be around Jamie that your attempts to say no become more and more inauthentic.

So here you are, coming back from your seventh date in as many weeks. That’s the record amount of time you’ve kept a guy around in the past two years.

“The weather is nice, let’s take a walk,” you mock. “Let’s take a walk my ass!” You’re grumbling as you and Jamie make it inside your house soaking wet from the pouring rain outside.

“How was I supposed to know?!” He tries to defend himself.

“By the sound of the fucking thunder!” You throw a towel at him.

“I thought we were gonna make it in time!” He takes off his sweatshirt and starts drying himself. “You could’ve talked me out of it!”

“Oh, so that’s my fault?” You’re not really that mad, more like just annoyed, but if Jamie wants to argue, you can argue. He’s grinning at you. “The fuck are you smiling about?”

“I’m sorry!” He raises his hands defensively. “But you’re, like, really hot when you’re mad.”

This fucker. And he’s standing there half naked and wet. “Oh, you’re gonna regret saying this.” You close the distance between you and smash your lips on his.

You keep pushing him backwards until his knees meet the bed and he plops down on it, looking up at you with his eyes dazed. You take a second to appreciate the view, and it gives you this weird feeling inside.

Uh-oh, you’re fallin' in love

—

It’s all fine, all good. You have it under control. You are not catching feelings for Jamie Tartt.

Even when you do, and it scares the shit out of you.

Jamie has been a constant presence in your life for almost three months now. And he’s always so patient, and considerate, and attentive. He starts asking you more questions, wants to really get to know you, emotional baggage and everything, and it doesn’t seem to bother him one bit. He never asks of you anything more than you can give, never makes you feel like you’re too much or not enough.

You’re lying on your couch with Jamie on top of you, slotted between your legs with his head on your chest. You’re absent-mindedly running your fingers through his hair while you’re watching a movie. Predictably, forty minutes into the movie, he’s dead asleep. You know that he’s been very tired this season, with all the travel and extra matches and practices that playing in the Champions League requires. Honestly, you were surprised that he can make as much time for you as he does, considering all of that.

You let him stay like this, trying not to move your body too much, until the end credits roll and half of your body goes numb. You gently shake him awake, and he looks adorably sleepish. You tell him that you should move it to bed because it’s late anyway. He furrows his brows for a moment in surprise. He’s never stayed over like this before, only if you were having sex. He’s definitely not going to complain, though. He makes his way to your bedroom, and by the time you’re out of the shower, he’s already asleep again. Or at least half-asleep, because when you get in bed next to him, he still snuggles closer to you.

You lie awake for another hour.

In the morning, you wake up first and, quickly disentangling yourself from Jamie, get out of bed.

Jamie notices that you’re acting weird: your smile is tense and you keep looking away, but he doesn’t comment on it. Eventually, he gives you a goodbye kiss and leaves for practice. The moment you close the door behind him and he’s a safe distance away, you let out a loud groan.

Oh no, you’re fallin' in love again

—

You’ve been ignoring Jamie’s calls for two weeks now. There hasn’t been a single one in two days, though, so maybe he just finally gave up. You can’t help but feel a little bit disappointed, but what right do you have? It was your choice. You’ve been wrapped in your cynicism for so long that you no longer know how to just let yourself be happy again. You tell yourself that you’re better off, and probably so is Jamie.

Your doorbell rings, and when you open the door, you don't know whether you’re relieved or uneasy to see Jamie standing at your doorstep.

“Hey.”

“You don’t pick up your phone.”

“Yeah, I…” You don’t actually have any logical explanation for yourself.

“You don’t need to explain.” He collects himself. “I’ve been trying to give you space. But I think it’s becoming too much space for me.”

“Jamie–“

“No, wait. Let me say something. And if you still want me to leave, then I will.” The remorseful look on your face was probably enough of a giveaway of what you were about to say. Well, here goes nothing. You nod at him to continue. “I am in love with you. And I don’t care that you think you’re a mess or whatever. I mean, so am I, but you don’t seem to mind either. You’re fucking amazing. And I will tell you that every day, if you want. No, I will tell you that every day, whether you want it or not. Just let me stay.”

The following silent seconds might be the longest in Jamie’s life, but then you pull him in and kiss him breathless, and it was absolutely worth the wait.

You’ve been lying awake for a few minutes now, thinking back to the previous night. You’re facing away from Jamie, but chances are he’s still asleep, you still have time to flee. You don’t want to, though.

As if reading your thoughts, Jamie speaks up. “I know you’re awake.” Here goes your escape plan. He softly runs his fingers along your back. “Stay with me.” He places a kiss between your shoulder blades. “Please.”

You take a deep breath and turn to face him. You’ve seen Jamie in the morning many times, but it was never like this. He’s never looked so vulnerable and unsure. You don’t want him to look like this. You gently brush your fingers against his cheek, and he leans into your hand before taking it in his and kissing your knuckles.

It’s been so long since you’ve really felt something for the person next to you, since you’ve let yourself feel something for the person next to you. You forgot how nice it is, how good it feels. That it doesn’t always have to end in hurt. Maybe if Jamie can offer you his heart like this, then you can trust him with yours too. You want to. This realization feels like letting out a breath you have been holding for years.

“Where would I go? We’re in my bed,” you smile, and Jamie huffs a laugh of relief. Alright, then, let’s give it a shot. You lean in and kiss him.

Oh, you’re fallin' in love

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt imagine #ted lasso fic

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