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#Y/N HAS BETTER LIFE THAN ME
firemenenthusiast · 2 years
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namor has a long life ahead of him so hes been lonely for a long time. just when he thought thats not going to change he found you who also age slow like him, fell in love with you, sighing in content that hes not going to have to spend another century alone again. now that he has you he get to live everyday knowing when he wakes up tomorrow he will have you by his side
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ark1os · 1 month
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I didnt know the tags woulr be so much i shouldve just wrote a long vent 😭😭😭 rip
#lol. there are still times where my brain goes omg what if you’re really a narc#and then i go out of my way to make sure my friends are as comfortable as possible and thati meet all their needs and i apologize every few#minutes for something silly or for maybe hurting them unintentionally and then i remember of#every fallout w people in my life where i was always taking responsibility for my actions n for my role to what led to the fallouts no#matter how toxic the person was and i remember all the times i geniunely apologized to my siblings for my mistakes (without them pointing#out i did smth wrong) and i remember all the tomes someone told me i hurt them and i owned up to it and apologized and then i go#oh ywa. maybe not ?#bonus: all the times i helped someone out in secret to bring some ease in their life without ever telling them or bragging eith it or#using it against them or reminding them that i did x y z for them#and then all the times where my guilt ate me up at nights and i cried and the times where i brought out the best of people because my love#is Nuturing. yea#AND I GUESS THE FACT THAT MY EX BEST FRIEND TOLD ME IM A NARC AND I STRAIGHT UP WENT OMG YEA! PROBABLY! BECAUSE I WOULDVE BELIEVED HER#ANYTHING 😭😭😭😭 BECAUSE INWAS SO SURE SHE KNEW ME BETTER THAN I KNEW MYSELF! 😭😭😭#BECAUSE I HAD LOST MYSELF COMPLETELY IN THE FRIENDSHIP 😭😭😭😭 NOT VERY NARC OF ME 😭😭😭😭😭😭#but yea. i guess abandonment issues apathy and lack of communication skills (which leads to passive aggressivness) will make you look like a#narc i get where she came from! but still. if i ever see someone diagnose other people i will simply tell them to shut up#especially based on sentences taken out of context. not very sexy#and also very stupid.#rationally seen i shouldve kicked out the thought that im probably not one when my therapist told me theres no chance i am but. when you get#treated like a freaking mondter from the people you’ve trusted deeply. it does something to you >.>#also when my therapist said that she has No rights to make Any diagnosis or statements about other people because whatever i tell her its#going to tell her more about me than them. i shouldve just dtopped believing it honestly. like freaking sideeye to those therapists thst#told my ex friends im a narc. and a big fat kiss to my therapist for being such a beautiful empathstic underztanding patient beautiful and#kind person#alhamdulillah ^-^#kicked out the thought thst i am one *#and also a big fat sorry for being hsving no empathy. my communication skills are getting brtter and im working on my abandonment issues#(sfter being abandoned by my closest friends and family hello this is so sexy of me) and im soooo much more st peace w myself n i like and#care aboyt myself ^-^ even just writing a list of positive things ahout me is smth i wouldve never done two years ago#(also my family took me back alhamdulillah eheh)
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nicoliine · 4 months
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The day you noticed Lucifer was using his wings to court you.
☆彡 In birds, there is a great variety of nuptial displays at the time of courtship, especially in species that have melodious songs or show very striking plumage.
Little did you know, this would include angels or the king of hell himself.
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☆ English isn't my first language. Sorry in advance.
☆ The reader is g/n; no pronouns or y/n are used.
 
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You were always fond of birds, and you dedicated much of your life to helping preserve endangered species. You studied them, spent countless hours learning about the hundreds of species, a lot of diets and their behaviors.
This didn’t seem to stop once you found yourself in Hell; in fact, once you discovered there were a bunch of sinners with bird-like features, you just seemed content to be there.
When you arrived at the Hazbin hotel, you claimed one of the spare rooms as your personal studio, and after what you have called "the toughest battle in your life," you convinced Alastor to let you have a camera "as long as you never get that frivolous technology box near me."
Husk had to ask you not so politely to stop when you first met. Before you could even take his hand, you had started to ask questions about their wings; sometimes you even wrote on an oh-so-worn notebook of yours; it became a common topic of discussion between the two of you. When you forget he has work to do and start to take multiple pictures of his wings and even try to take one of his wings when he is not looking, Angel starts to think that your bartender friend is about to lose it, and you will end with a scratch or two.
 
Besides that, one could say that your presence in the hotel was appreciated; you could be found watching some funny shows on TV with Angel and never saying no to Vaggie when she asked for a favor. Soon, you started to feel part of the hotel, and the rest of the staff agreed with that.
 ☆◦ •◦☆
Lucifer was nothing like any man you had met in life or hell; he was, to put it simply, an awkward guy, always so silly yet so elegant. He had managed to get you longing for his presence more often than you would like to admit.
You are not sure how you and Lucifer became friends, but having a shared interest in ducks seemed to help. You gave him all kinds of facts about them, and he would step by your room every so often to show you the new rubber duck he was working on. Not that you're complaining, but one of his ducks set your courtains on fire on an occasion.
Charlie says that she is proud of his "social advances,” as she used to call your interactions. Seeing him out of his office more often and having an actual conversation with someone seems to make the princess happy and less worried about her father, and if that someone turns out to be you, it is so much better!
  ☆◦ •◦☆
The first time you noticed this weird behavior of his was the day you two met. You couldn’t help but mention, after his bickering with Alastor over who was Charlie’s father figure, that you found his wings precious. Lucifer, being the prideful man he is, wasted no time on extending his wings only for your delight, a smirk on his face as he saw your eyes wide admiring that part of him; they were so magnificent, you could swear they were shining in the light of the room, and you'd die to see if the feathers were as soft as they seemed.
 
Just a simple touch, please.
 
Before returning his wings to their place, there was a flutter of his wings, so slow that there was no way someone could notice.
But you weren't just someone; you knew it. What a coincidence! You could recap an article about some birds courtship.
The second time you saw it, you were in your room minding your own business. He came to you with a smile, but your eyes were looking past him, his wings on full display as he greeted you. There, his wings started flutter again, now lasting more than the last time. Now there is no way it was just a coincidence. “My eyes are up here, darling,” he said, that smirk on his face turning into a pout as you were not paying him enough attention. You just shake your head, focus on the man before you, returning your full attention to him, and the pout on his lips dissapears immediately as your eyes are on him.
 
  ☆◦ •◦☆
You are getting crazy; every time you get a glimpse of him, you find his wings moving in an oh-so-familiar way that you could swear it was a courtship dance, every time bolder than before.
That is when you decided to confront him, getting just a chuckle from him. It made you think maybe it was just your imagination, and you finally lost your mind.
 
While sitting on the hotel balcony, Lucifer was telling you one of his ideas for this new rubber duck. He said it would be the best one he would work on so far, even though you doubted that. Then you stopped listening, your eyes fixated on his wings. Every time he looked at you, they would flutter not so subtly, distracting you from everything around you. Your head rested on your palm, almost feeling bad for not listening to his rambling.
 
"Luci, you're courting me." It was supposed to be a question, but by the way the king of hell stopped his rambling and, looking at you with wide eyes, you found that maybe it was not.
"And what would make you think that?" He said mocking you, he also rested his head in one of their hands.
 
"Your wings, the way you move them," you pointed to his wings; they stopped his movements when you mentioned it; he just chuckled, then started to laugh. Was he laughing at you? It made you want to hide yourself from him; was it your imagination? No way.
 
"So you finally notice," he then said. Once his laugh was gone, he adjusted himself on his seat. Now, with both of his hands holding his face and looking at you with a smirk, his wings started to flutter once more. "I thought it would take you less time, may I be honest"
 
"Actually, I noticed it long ago; I thought it was just my—" You felt the air leaving your lungs once he got on his feet and moved closer to you. "...Just my imagination." You were not strange to his proximity, but this time he just looked so imponent, wings on full display and fluttering around. Now it was definitely a courtship dance, and you were on the receiving end.
 
"Now, what do you think?" He hovered over you who still sitting, a hand resting on the back of your seat, taking one of your hands on his and kissing your knuckles. The kiss lasted longer than you thought was the average time for one, and even then he didn’t let go of your hand. "Was my dance enough to impress you, darling?" Now, looking into his eyes, you could only see adoration, awaiting your response.
 
You couldn't speak; you can't imagine the king of hell pulling up something like this for you.
 
"My dear, please talk to me," he pleaded, a sigh leaving his lips as he hid his face in the crook of your neck. You could feel his warm breath in your skin, burning like hellfire.
 
"It was," you said, Lucifer now turning his face to look at you. You took his face in your hands and moved him closer, he gave you an inquisitive look but with no intention to move from your touch. "I should have mentioned it earlier; it was quite impressive." You smiled, and he did the same.
 
Now, how long you two kissed, you also don't remember; what you remember, however, is how he held you against him as if you were just about to disappear right then, and that when you finally got to touch his wings, you were proved wrong.
His feathers were much softer than you have imagined.
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This idea came to me yesterday when my dad showed me a reel of a lady bird who epically ignored the male who was dancing to her, I felt so bad and immediately thought about Lucifer.
Likes and reblogs are appreciated 💞
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bruisedboys · 10 months
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love drunk — miguel o’hara x reader
summary — while miguel deals with a drunk and clingy you, you accidentally let it slip that you love him. requested here
grumpy x sunshine!! spidergirl!reader, no pronouns used but implied fem!reader, grumpy miguel, kind of ditzy reader, drunk reader, established relationship, first ‘I love you’ trope, miguel being lovesick, fluff. so much fluff
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implied fem!reader 1.3k words
Miguel thinks he should never let you drink again in your whole life.
“Y/N,” he says through gritted teeth, irritated now. Actually, he was irritated ten minutes ago but was doing a better job at hiding it. “Come on. Get off me.”
You’re dead weight in his lap. He wouldn’t mind, he likes when you sit on him like this, only you’re in the middle of the bar and there are at least five Peter’s looking his way and smirking, and he can see Hobie Brown laughing at him behind his hand across the room.
“Whyyyyy?” You drawl, your lips slow and your tongue slower. You paw at his chest and give him a glare that’s about as menacing as a puppy. “You’re so mean.”
Miguel sighs heavily. He picks up his hands where they’d been hovering at your sides, unsure whether he should touch you or not when you’re like this, and gets a good grip on your hips.
“C’mon, get up,” he says. He lifts you off his lap with ease, fingers curling around your hips, and deposits you in the booth seat next to him.
To Miguel’s surprise, you don’t flop into his side or try to climb back onto him like he thought you would. Where seconds ago you were like a rag doll, you sit rigid straight.
“What?” He asks you, genuinely confused.
“Sorry,” you say quietly, frowning to yourself. “I didn’t mean that. You’re not mean.”
Miguel blinks at you. “Oh. No, that’s not why I made you get off, sweetheart. I know you don’t actually think I’m mean.”
Slowly, you brighten up like a wind up toy, springing back to life in slow motion with a big smile painting itself across your mouth, all teeth. “Oh, okay. Can I get back on you now?”
Miguel actually laughs. He’s very tempted to say yes, you can sit in his lap as long as you like. He doesn’t, mostly because you’re very obviously past your limit and you need a bed and some water. Neither of which he can get you here.
“You’re funny, cariño,” he tells you, chucking you under the chin with his knuckles. You beam up at him, eyes squinting so much they’re half closed. He indulges himself in a squeezing of your cheek before breaking the news, “No, you can’t get back on me—“ Your face falls, “—But I can take you to bed?”
Your smile comes back so quick it’s alarming, and you nod vehemently. “Yeah, please.”
Miguel manages to get you out of the Spider-Bar (nicknamed by one of the Peter’s, he can’t remember which but Miguel refuses to call it that. It’s just a section off the second floor of Headquarters where Spider-people migrate to drink.) without you tripping over your own feet. He’s discovering you’re a very clumsy, clingy drunk. That, and you really can’t hold your liquor. He’s only had a little less than you and he feels completely fine. Other than the burning in his chest, though he’s pretty sure that has more to do with you and your presence than the alcohol.
He gets you into an elevator and holds you up when you slouch into his side. His arm around your hip and both of your hands clinging like vines to his free arm, tight enough to ache but he can’t bring himself to ask you to loosen your grip a little. He’d be lying if he said he doesn’t enjoy your apparent desperation to stick to him like glue.
The elevator dings and the doors slide open. A gaggle of Spider-Women wait on the other side, Jess among them. The younger girls giggle amongst themselves when they see the predicament they’ve caught their haughty boss in.
“Hey, Miguel,” Jess drawls as she sidles past him, Miguel practically dragging you out of the elevator now and out of the way of the girls. “Hey, Y/N.” She grins at your inebriated state, then looks to Miguel, “Early night?”
It’s almost midnight. Miguel can’t tell if she’s teasing or not. She probably is. “Yeah.”
“Miguel’s taking me to bed,” you pipe up, a lustful tone to your sticky, slurry voice that Miguel winces at. He hadn’t meant it like that. Clearly, your drunk mind had taken it that way. He’ll be sure to set the record straight once you’re safe and alone in his room.
Jess laughs loud. “Right. Well, have fun with that.”
She’s still laughing as the elevator doors slide shut. Miguel sighs. He’s not gonna hear the end of that for at least a week. You tug on his arm and smile up at him sweetly, and he forgets all about it.
“What is it, cariño?” He hums.
“Can you carry me? My feet are sore.”
Miguel indulges you. Partly because you’d asked and he’s yet again been tasked with the challenge of saying no to you (which he fails at every time), and partly because you’re slowing him down and he really wants to get to his room before he meets anyone else. He scoops you up easily, one arm hooked beneath your thighs and the other under your back. You giggle dazedly and hook your arms around his neck tight enough that it’d hurt anyone but Miguel, burying your face in his neck, your flyaway hair tickling his skin.
By the time he gets you to his room you’re half asleep in his arms. He’d let you sleep but your suit is constricting. He deposits you on the bed in the dark and switches on the lamp. He only manages to turn on his heels before you’re grabbing his arm, warm hand wrapping around his wrist with a clumsy desperation.
“Don’t go,” you murmur, eyes half closed.
Miguel pries your hand away gently. “I’m not going anywhere. Just getting your pyjamas.”
You allow it but you make a grab for him as soon as he’s back, hands warm at his waist. He stands in front of you and undresses you out of your spidersuit, then redresses you into the pyjamas you keep in his room. You keep quiet other than the occasional hiccup and despite your amorous comment earlier you don’t try anything, even when you’re completely bare-chested and Miguel is standing over you. While he pulls your shirt over you head, your hands find his hips and grip them like somebody’s trying to take him away from you.
He gives you a glass of water which you skull back like you’re about to die of thirst. He refills the glass and when he comes back you’ve turned the light off and buried yourself under the covers. He thinks you’re asleep until he goes to put the glass on the bedside table and your hand sneaks out of the sheets, reaching for him.
“Miguel…” you murmur, fingers brushing his abdomen. You tilt your head up towards him, searching for him in the dark.
“You okay?” He asks, concerned you’re not feeling well. He hopes you’re not the kind of drunk who throws up everything they drank. Though he can’t say he’d mind looking after you even if you were.
“I’m fine,” you say softly. It’s dark and he can barely see your face but he hears your next words just fine. “Thank you for looking after me … I love you.”
Miguel is so shocked he almost drops the glass of water he’s holding. Sure, he knew you had feelings for him. He knew you care for him about as much as he does for you, which is an inordinate amount. To hear you say it is different. His fondness for you multiplies by about a million and the chasm in his chest feels, not for the first time since he met you, a little bit smaller.
He knows you probably won’t remember it in the morning, but it’s been said and his chest is aflame. He sets the cup down and then crouches next to your lovely, tired face, and cups your cheek. He presses a soft kiss to your temple, and then your lips. Your eyelashes flutter as your eyes fall shut and you smile.
Miguel waits til he’s sure you’re asleep to say it back — vulnerability’s never really been his strong suit. He tucks hair away from your face, feeling a bit drunk himself. Just not from anything he drank. “I love you too, mi amor.”
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astonmartinii · 1 month
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the father who stepped up | charles leclerc social media au
pairing: charles leclerc x fem gasly!reader
mr leclerc has been spotted with an all too familiar dog recently.
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | BROTHER'S BFF MASTERLIST
- part of the brother's best friend series -
yourusername
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liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc and 1,094,523 others
yourusername: ceo of milf industries
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user1: i am NO better than a man
user2: i think enough time has passed... when do we get enzo's paddock debut
user3: i'm hearing monaco at least
pierregasly: this is false advertising
yourusername: enzo is my child, i am his mother
pierregasly: you're not cute enough to be a milf, sorry!
yourusername: just cause you've got the hairline of a grandpa is not mine or enzo's fault
pierregasly: MY HAIRLINE IS FINE
yourusername: PUSH BACK THE FRINGE
pierregasly: how dare you! this is a big insecurity of mine - you are NOT a girl's girl
yourusername: pierre why is mum calling me? PIERRE WHY IS MUM CALLING ME?
user4: i bet they have a get along shirt
yourusername: all i can say is that someone rocks it, and someone doesn't
pierregasly: are you still being mean while on the phone to mum????
yourusername: the hater grind never stops
estebanocon: enzo is getting so big 😭😭😭
yourusername: time flies, oh gosh i'm crying
estebanocon: motherhood does that to you
user5: i love how pierre and este are mortal enemies but y/n is besties with him regardless
yourusername: an opp of pierre is a friend of mine
charles_leclerc: cutest boy in the world
yourusername: i didn't know you had given up that title?
charles_leclerc: oh i-
pierregasly: STOP FLIRTING WITH HIM AND STOP BLUSHING IT'S JUST Y/N
user6: say it's just y/n as if it's NOT Y/N??
liked by charles_leclerc
pierregasly: I SAW THAT
pierregasly
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liked by francisca.cgomes, charles_leclerc and 897,556 others
tagged: yourusername
pierregasly: what's the point of having a sister if you can't steal her dog
view all comments
user7: this pooch has to be one of the most spoilt and pampered dogs in the world
user8: i wish i died and was reincarnated as enzo
yourusername: oh sure, i'm sure i'm great for plucking your eyebrows and helping you text back girls (@francisca.cgomes you're welcome)
pierregasly: do you mind?
yourusername: did you really ever think you'd pull kika with your charm alone?
pierregasly: yes?
yourusername: the delusion of men should be studied
pierregasly: do i have to call mum again?
yourusername: you call yourself tripod, if anything i should be calling the POLICE
user9: i know kika must have the patience of a saint to deal with their bickering
user10: i fear for any man who wants to get with y/n cause lord knows at his big age pierre will be wheeling out the overprotective brother act
pierregasly: that's my god given right
yukitsunoda0511: not in the photo dump... i see how it is
yourusername: every girl for themselves sorry yuki san
yukitsunoda0511: i think pierre is just jealous of our looks
yourusername: i think that is exactly it yuki
charles_leclerc: yuki not in the post but i wasn't even invited 🤨
pierregasly: you're literally in italy?
charles_leclerc: and?
pierregasly: god forbid a man doesn't want to be bullied by you and y/n
yourusername: (pussy)
user11: not to be a freak but charles and y/n would be so cute together
pierregasly: say anything like that again and you're getting blocked
yourusername: they hate to see a girlboss winning
pierregasly: excuse me?
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charles_leclerc
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liked by danielricciardo, joris_trouche and 2.784,566 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: no paternity test needed
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user15: okay.... like... they're slay
user16: i'm personally going to celebrate now before the pierre tantrum
yourusername: oh i've already blocked his number lol
pierregasly: knock knock
yourusername: HELP HE DROVE ALL THE WAY FROM PARIS
user17: is charles dead? can we have a sign of life?
charles_leclerc: they can't get rid of me bitch
pierregasly: you're hiding in the bathroom I CAN HEAR YOU GUYS GIGGLING
yourusername: you're BREAKING AND ENTERING
pierregasly: i have a key?
charles_leclerc: for emergencies?
pierregasly: THIS IS AN EMERGENCY I NEED TO BEAT YOUR ASS
yourusername: not his ass!!!! it's so cute :(
pierregasly: not the time
user18: i can't - why are they having a conversation in the comment section when they're separated by a single door
pierregasly: WHY IS ESTEBAN HERE????????????
estebanocon: 1. i love drama and i love annoying you 2. y/n called me as back up
yourusername: you're being insane and i needed the lanky man to escort you out!
pierregasly: i just want to talk
yourusername: I CAN HEAR THE SOCK
charles_leclerc: THE SOCK?
estebanocon: i can confirm he has the sock
yukitsunoda0511: why don't i know what the sock is :(
yourusername: it's a sock full of loose change that you swing as a weapon @ MEN OF ITALY PLEASE MOBILISE YOUR GOD IS IN DANGER
charles_leclerc: tell enzo i love him :((((((
pierregasly: WHY IS MAX HERE AS WELL?
maxverstappen1: i am nosey
maxverstappen1: and esteban left the door open
danielricciardo: i am also here
alexalbon: me too, @yourusername can i have some of the dessert in the fridge?
yourusername: is the entire population of monaco in our house?
charles_leclerc: with that many witnesses he can't do anything
pierregasly: WHY DID YOU GUYS GIVE THEM ENOUGH TIME TO GET OUT AND LET Y/N GET HER SOCK
pierregasly: HELPPPPPPPPPPPPPP
user19: what the fuck have i just read?
user20: are alpine down a driver?
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yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, estebanocon and 1,789,467 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: did you guys know i recently became an only child?
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user23: now this could either mean that she has disowned pierre or that we did actually witness murder by sock
user24: enzo down an uncle
maxverstappen1: i am more than ready to take his spot
danielricciardo: me too
alexalbon: me three
pierregasly: i'm still alive?
yourusername: GHOST 🫵🏻
charles_leclerc: someone get the sage STAT
pierregasly; do not try and cleanse me away
yourusername: then stop STINKING UP THE GAFF WITH YOUR ATTITUDE
pierregasly: THEN STOP FUCKING MY BEST FRIEND
charles_leclerc: 🤓👆 she's actually in love with me
yourusername: that's true i am actually in love with him
pierregasly: there's a difference?
yourusername: your fuckboy is showing... kika i'm so sorry
user25: we got a 'LOVE' guys it's real
yourusername: we have a child, this is so real
charles_leclerc: locked in for life 🫰🏻
estebanocon: he just passed out in the sim
yourusername: good 👍🏻
charles_leclerc: he'll come around at some point, but for right now i love you too much to care
yourusername: i love you too charlie x
charles_leclerc: i love you more
yourusername: NOT POSSIBLE
charles_leclerc
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liked by danielricciardo, arthurleclerc and 2,309,877 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: two years strong, no pierre tantrum can stop that :P
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user26: this is my official countdown to another pierre meltdown.
pierregasly: TWO YEARS? TWO YEARS? 730 DAYS? I CAN'T BE BOTHERED/CAN'T DO ANY MORE MATHS THAN THAT?
charles_leclerc: bro is proving why we didn't tell him in real time
pierregasly: i will choke you
charles_leclerc: you can't kill enzo's dad and be an absent uncle?
pierregasly: I AM NOT AN ABSENT UNCLE WHERE ARE YOU?
yourusername: newsflash bozo we thought ahead and are at a super secret second location
pierregasly: are you at max's?
yourusername: yes.
pierregasly: i knew you were too lazy to leave the building
yourusername: but you don't have a key to his place 😤
user27: y/n is real for that
maxverstappen1: EVERYONE BEHOLD I AM ABOUT TO COMPLIMENT CHARLES: enzo is very well trained and good with the cats
charles_leclerc: why thank you max
maxverstappen1: he must get it from his mother
charles_leclerc: rude! i thought this was a compliment to me?
yourusername: if it is my trait, it's singularly mine god lord it hasn't been passed down to all the gasly kids
pierregasly: i can read that you know
yourusername: you can read? next you're going to tell me you're potty trained as well
pierregasly: that's it i'm calling mum again
charles_leclerc: btw she already knows about us - i got permission from your parents
pierregasly: SO EVERYONE KNEW
yukitsunoda0511: i didn't :(
pierregasly: you're not in the family yuki that's not a big surprise
yukitsunoda0511: that's not what you said the other day... :((((((
pierregasly: i can't win these days
user28: first the alpine tractor and now this, pierre can't catch a break
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pierregasly
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liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 1,784,560 others
tagged: yourusername & charles_leclerc
pierregasly: i guess we're bffs for life now
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user32: balance has been restored to the force
user33: the way it only took some puppy dog eyes from both charles and enzo and the past three week civil war was forgiven
yourusername: thank god, you really aren't made to be a drama queen, keep it for the radio
pierregasly: you're just lucky you chose a guy i like
yourusername: you forced me to hang out with him my whole life, so really this is all your fault.
pierregasly: ????
yourusername: it's always a man's fault
pierregasly: i give up. you win. sure it was my fault
user34: y/n ain't never losing an argument i feel sorry for pierre and charles
charles_leclerc: she's never wrong 🫡
yourusername: this is how it should be ladies
charles_leclerc: how does it feel to be the third favourite to your parents now?
pierregasly: really? i can get the sock back out?
charles_leclerc: i'm sorry!!!
pierregasly: but you are right, y/n is the favourite
yourusername: baby is always the favourite
arthurleclerc: true
charles_leclerc: 🙄
pierregasly: 🙄
yourusername: are we done being dramatic now? can i come to races and can we go to dinner?
pierregasly: don't you dare wear red
yourusername: too late :P
pierregasly: excuse me
yourusername: i've always been wearing red in some way every race
charles_leclerc: i can confirm
pierregasly: EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW
fin.
note: finally back with my fave ever trope and the pics of little leo just gave me that burst of inspiration. leo is so cute and so is the ice cream, charles really coming for babygirl of the year
3K notes · View notes
heartless-tate · 3 months
Text
Notice me! | Azriel X Freader
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summary; Azriel courting an oblivious reader.
a/n; Heyy! Just a little fic of being courted by Azriel. And you not being very aware of it. Hope you enjoy!
content/trigger warnings; knife, food, meat?, cussing, kissing, no use y/n, hint towards lust feeling, Azriel pining, Armen being sassy, FEM reader (if you’d like me to make a another post with male reader, message me!) she/her pronouns for reader, thunderstorm mention and I think that’s it. If I missed something, feel free to message me on it! 💝
word count: 3.1k. |. Part two
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A plate clattered against the table causing your attention to turn to the man in front of you.
You met his gaze as he waited for you to try his new dish, his eyes seeming to shine as the sun hit his eyes. You swear he always seemed to be effortlessly beautiful. It was angering in some ways, you had even seen him wake up looking like a god. No. Better than a god. It didn’t matter if you spent an hour in the mirror, swiping various products of different expenses on your face; the result would be the same. The same boring face you saw everyday.
A wonderful smell wafted from the plate, causing your empty stomach to growl loud enough to shake the mountains. The shadowsinger smirked, pushing the plate of food closer to you with a gentleness most men didn’t have. Your face flushed with embarrassment, your hands instinctively coming to paw at your stomach, hoping it would stop. Your eyes wandered down to the plate where a meal sat.
“I haven’t made this before. I wanted you to be the first to try it.” He spoke with every ounce of grace and elegance a god would have. His hands grasped the seat across from you, pulling it out and taking a seat. His wings shifted until finding a comfortable position in the chair. You nodded in response, picking the fork up before taking in the rather- gracious portion of food he had made for you.
A ribeye steak bigger than your hand sat on the plate. Seasoning of different kinds were smothered on it, and the smell of butter consumed your senses. Your mouth watered in response. Beside it were two sides. Your favorites.
Armen smirked from where she sat beside you, watching as you lifted the steak knife and fork. You were so oblivious. She had been watching for the last few years as Azriel desperately chased after you, and you never seemed to even notice. It was amusing. He has spent hours staring at you, and you never realized. And if she pointed it out, you just assumed you had something on your face. She knew he was growing restless. Not tired of you, but tired of your complete oblivion. These days he seemed ready to scream from the top of the roof that he loved you.
Azriel’s scarred hand clutched at your wrist. He gently took the knife and fork away from you, before grabbing your plate and proceeding to cut your steak into bite sized pieces. Armen snickered from where she sat, resulting in a glare from Azriel.
“Oh- Azriel I can do that-“ You started.
“I know you can.” He responded. He didn’t give back your plate until your steak was cut into bite sized pieces for you. He watched you place the first bite of steak into your mouth.
Your eyes rolled back and you let out a hum of approval, chewing the food. The flavor was delicious, and it was quite easily the best steak you had ever tasted in your life. It wasn’t too buttery. Or too seasoned. It was just right. The meat was tender.
Azriel’s wings rustled at your hum. His face shined with pure male pride. His eyes never left you once while you chewed and swallowed. He stood, taking the steak knife that was no longer needed into the kitchen.
Armen followed after him. He sat the knife in the sink, letting the house do its magic before turning his attention to Armen.
“You’re like a love sick puppy.”
“My love life isn’t your business.” Azriel responded, his face tight. His words were low, ensuring you couldn’t hear.
“Hm. All I’m saying is your ‘courting’ isn’t going to work.” Armen said, picking at her nail leisurely. She was like a cat. Her piercing eyes watched as Azriel’s eyes narrowed at her with a scowl. Before he could comment more, Armen spoke again.
“She’s oblivious. It doesn’t matter if you fix her food, or leave her favorite pastries everywhere so she finds them, she won’t get the hint. Literally. I’m getting seasonal allergies from the amount of flowers you’ve left for her everywhere in this house.Seriously, this place is covered in flowers. Either start professing love or drop this little crush.” She growled out, walking out of the kitchen.
Azriel stayed silent before whispering,“It’s not little.”
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“Yeah, don’t let me forget to grab a few early starfall gifts.” Mor said. You groaned loudly, rubbing your temples. Even the idea of her gifts made you want to cry. Her starfall gift for you these past few years have been a collection of ridiculously fuzzy socks. Every.Year.
Of course you were grateful, but everyone knew Mor’s gifts weren’t particularly good. You now had a drawer filled with fuzzy and odd colored socks.
Velaris was bustling today. Fae of all kids roamed the streets, some tending to their shops. Kids ran through the streets playing games. Everyone was out enjoying the sunny day. You and Mor decided to go shopping to pick up a few items. Your eyes wandered back down to your list, a few more candles, a book or two, and some lotion.
“Starfall gifts? I don’t think you need to shop this early for them-“
“Nonsense! It’s never too early to do gift shopping!” Mor said, cutting you off. You sighed and shook your head knowing it was hopeless to argue with her.
After a few trips to some stores, you both ended up getting lunch at Rita’s. You ordered a milkshake- apparently a new creation of a cold drink? None less, whatever they were, everyone had been going crazy over them in Velaris. And of course you also got your favorite meal. Mor ordered practically half the menu, content to eat her heart out. You didn’t blame her- food was good.
As your plates were sat down by the waitress, Mor eyed your food with a questioning look. Your eyebrows raised in confusion. “What? You’re looking at my food weird.”
“Oh. Well I’m just surprised to see you ordering a meal here. You know Azriel is gonna harp if you don’t eat his food.” Mor responded, shoveling food into her mouth as if she’d starve.
“Huh?” You countered.
Mor finished her food before rolling her eyes. She sighed deeply as if you had troubled her. “You know..” she said, waving her hands as if that would solve your confusion. When you raised your eyebrows with a puzzled face, she put her fork down.
“You know- when you eat something someone else cooked or you’re not hungry, and he’s cooked you a meal. And you refuse it- he gets all huffy and puffy! Like a broody motherhen.” She continued.
“He doesn’t even fix me food that often-“ you argued.
“Oh please! Breakfast, lunch, and dinner! Full course meal on the table for you. If only someone loved me that much.” Mor said, picking her fork back up. “Those meals weren’t from the house hun. All I’m saying is maybe you should pay more attention.”
For the rest of the meal, you both sat in silence as you pondered over her words.
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Cassian laughed  as you entered from the hallway. His eyes shined with amusement as you waddled to the counter with your shopping bags.
The sound was enough to draw a curious Azriel to the room. He immediately grabbed all your bags despite your complaints, setting them on the table. He nodded at you in response when you thanked him.
“I thought you were only shopping for a few things.” Cassian stated. He stood casually leaned against the table with a drink in his left hand. Azriel stood to your left, his wings expanded. His eyes were keen and watchful. You doubted he ever missed a single detail. His skin glistened with sweat, a musky bourbon scent coming from him. Cassian’s skin was sweaty too, evidence of them training together earlier in the day.
“Well, the candle store had a buy two get five for free deal. So I bought  four and got ten for free! Cauldron I love Velaris!” You squealed, and Azriel smirked knowingly. He had taken note of your recent obsession with buying candles. Cassian shook his head.
Cassian's face lit up with surprise as you handed him two candles. “So I got one for everyone else. This one smells like leather and the other vanilla. I figured you’d like it Cas.” You continued. He nodded in thanks. You turned to Azriel.
“I got you this candle because I know you love blueberries. And this one is supposed to smell like rainy days and lightning. And this one is books and bourbon!”
Azriel’s eyes never looked down to the candles you had shoved in his arms. His eyes stayed on your face as you happily ranted about the candles. When you finished and looked back up to his face, he had a soft look. It was one you don’t think you’ve seen him use before. His eyes were soft and looked like pools of honey, and his smile was gentle.
You watched as he sat down the candles on the table and turned back to you. “They’re perfect.” He responded. He was so memorizing. You just knew whoever he ended up with would be content. You struggled taking your eyes from him.Cassian growled playfully.
“Hey! Unfair! He got three candles! I only got-“
Cassian was cut off by Mor smacking him on the back of the head as she trotted to the kitchen. She had a lot of leftovers to put away. Azriel gave him a quick glare, silencing him.
You noticed he was wearing all his leathers, and siphons. His shadows whirled leisurely around his shoulders and wings. Azriel watched as your eyes creased in confusion. He sighed. He couldn’t help but feel a shimmer of hope at the fact you had gotten him more candles than Cassian.
“Rhysand sent me on a mission, I’ll be gone for a few days most likely. I’m going to spy on the human queens and make sure all is well there.” He admitted. He watched as your face fell. You quickly smiled again and nodded. His heart thumped like a hammer in his chest. Did you care? Would you miss him like he always missed you? He wondered if you couldn’t sleep like he couldn’t when he was away from you.
“Oh. I see. Be safe.” You responded, nodding slowly. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the feeling in your chest. You had never felt it before. You wondered why all of a sudden you felt this way about him leaving.
His eyes softened even more. “I leave in an hour or two.” He whispered, head tilting to catch your eyes once more. Cassian had disappeared from the room all of a sudden, him and Mor talking loudly about dumb things in the kitchen. Leaving you and Azriel alone. “Let me cook you dinner before I leave.”
His eyebrows furrowed this time as you shook your head no. His smile dropped. He looked like a kicked puppy almost-
“I ate lunch with Mor.” You explained. Your explanation didn’t seem to comfort him as he shook his head in response.
“That was lunch. It’s time for dinner.” Azriel said firmly.
Your mind went back to Mor’s words. Pay more attention…what did she mean? What was there to pay attention to? Azriel cooked for everyone- right..? Your mind raced over your memories, trying to think of a single time you had seen Azriel set a plate down for one of the others.
“Alright then, fix me dinner Azriel.” You responded. Azriel smiled, pleased. His right wing flared, draping over your back. “Follow me.” He said, leading the way into the kitchen. His wing was warm against your back, as it guided you beside him. It was much larger than  you were, towering over your head. As you entered the kitchen, Cassian and Mor immediately scampered out shouting something about extra training.
You watched Azriel move around the kitchen in a graceful dance of grabbing pans and pots. He kept his wings tucked in, to keep them from banging against counters and tables. His hair was messy from training, or like he had ran his hands through it more then once. But it never failed to frame his face. You watched as a few shadows dart around, grabbing various spices and ingredients for whatever new dish he’d make tonight. He set a pan down on the stove before turning to you.
His scarred hands gently grasped your hips, lifting you up effortlessly. He sat you on an empty space on the counter. He huffed a laugh at your squeak of shock. He patted one of your thighs gently before leaving your side and returning to his pan.
Your face flushed with embarrassment. He had lifted you as if you weighed nothing, showcasing his obvious strength. Everytime he touched you with his beautiful hands, it felt like everything stopped. As if the world had slowed to let you enjoy the moment. Your hands wrapped around your stomach, wondering what this weird feeling that had overcome you meant.
He moved swiftly, chopping ingredients and throwing things in various pots and pans. You quickly realized by smell alone he was making your comfort food. You remembered the night a storm had rolled in. Usually thunder and lightning didn’t scare you- but this was different. The booms and flashes were intense, shaking the ground and keeping you from sleep. You had stumbled to the house library in an attempt to distract yourself. But you only found Azriel instead. He had scented your obvious distress and took action immediately. He helped you settle on the couch with cushions and blankets before asking what a comfort food was. A good 15 minutes later he returned with a plate.
You don’t remember much pass that, you just remember becoming tired and sleepily. You remember feeling warm all of a sudden and then you woke up in your bed that morning.
“It’s almost done.” Azriel spoke, bringing you back from your memories. His eyes were distant as if he too was remembering that same night.
You smiled and thanked him as he handed you your bowl and a spoon. He made himself a bowl too. He took your bowl from his hands and sat it down, before grabbing you and setting you back on the floor. His hands stayed on your hips until he was sure you were balanced. He guided you to the sitting room with a fire.
Azriel didn’t eat until you took your first bite, ensuring you liked it. And of course, you did. It was warm, and comforting, like a hug in your mouth. It soothed your soul in ways nothing else could, the flavors easing your body from any previous aches. Azriel had never made a bad meal before. You both ate in silence together, with the comforting crackle of the fire and warming food. But as the time passed, you knew it came time for him to leave.
Your bowls sat on the coffee table. Both finished. The house made them disappear, taking care of them on its own. You were always amazed by its magic.
Your head snapped to Azriel as he stood. He sighed, looking at the clock on the wall. His eyebrows were furrowed and he almost looked like he wanted to chain himself to the wall before even considering leaving. He turned to your sitting form. His shadows seemed to move more quickly and sharper around his shoulders.
“It’s time for me to leave.” He whispered. He watched as you nodded solemnly. You smiled, but he knew it didn’t reach your eyes.
“Thank you for the meal.”
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You watched as Cassian hugged Azriel in goodbye, and Mor nod as her own way of saying goodbye. Azriel had taken his candles to his room earlier, before joining everyone in the hallway. When one left for more then a day, you all said proper goodbyes.
Azriel turned to you, walking swiftly. His arms wrapped around you tightly, his big biceps practically squeezing the life out of you. He practically had to hold himself back from purring when your arms wrapped around his neck in return. Everything darkened as his wings cocooned you. His wings blocked out the noises of the others, leaving just you and him. His head found solace in your neck. His scent overwhelmed your senses in a good way. Before you had time to question Azriel being touchy, Cassian yelled,
“Ok! Ok! We get it, Azriel. Let go of her before you suffocate her.”
Azriel lifted his head, and his wings dropped. His eyes stayed latched on yours. A few seconds passed before he tore his eyes away and scowled at Cassian. His teeth bared in silent warning. Cassian backed down and turned to have conversation with the others. Azriel released you from his grip.
“I’ll be back soon. Don’t starve. And I left some flowers on your nightstand. I hope you don’t mind.” He whispered to you, fiddling with his hands like a nervous school boy. Your eyes lit up and you smiled gently.
“Thank you Azriel. Goodbye.” You whispered back in response. His smile turned upside down.
“I told you, call me Az. Or whatever you want- just not my full name. We’re closer than that.” He said in a growl like tone. He watched as you nodded your head.
It was time for him to leave now. He sighed deeply. The others had gone silent watching the scene with interest. But he didn’t seem to care.
He leaned down to your height, his hands grasping at your chin. He turned your head before leaving a gentle but firm kiss on the side of your cheek. “Sleep well tonight.” He whispered before pulling away. You stood in shock at the door to the balcony, as he said his last goodbyes. He waved in an almost shy way at you before taking flight.
You stood still, flabbergasted at what had happened. Slowly your hand rose to your cheek.
Realization dawned on you- he hadn’t ever fixed food for anyone else other than you.
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a/n; hope you enjoyed, let me know if you want part two! 🌙
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povlnfour · 6 months
Text
ੈ✩‧₊˚ .JPG (JUST PROPOSE GODDAMNIT) (LN4)
pairing: lando norris x girlfriend!reader
summary: lando’s childhood sweetheart has long since been the subject of his photography account. fans just can’t wait to see one specific post from the couple in the future
*face claim for y/n: edie rose (but please imagine her as you see fit!)
lando.jpg just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by daniel3.jpg, charles_leclerc and 95,602 others
lando.jpg life lately🧡
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user1 me checking y/n’s hand for a ring everytime lando posts her
user5 FELT i got so excited when i saw one here then realised it was her right hand
user2 SO REAL nearly 8 years im expecting it soon…
daniel3.jpg one of you looks super graceful w the food
landonorris gtfo
yourusername (affectionate)**
user3 SUCH A CUTIE
user3 y/n i mean xo
user4 MOM AND DAD
user5 JPG MR .JPG. JUST PROPOSE GODDAMNIT!!!!!
lando.jpg just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by daniel3.jpg, charles_leclerc and 97,602 others
lando.jpg my muse and me
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user5 lando i BEG just ask the woman to marry you
user6 his muse🥹🥹🥹 if someone called me that i would be a puddle
user1 oh she so has stops to pet random dogs energy
yourusername i love you my darling
user4 the third photo *faints*
user7 JPG!!!
user5 finally my legacy is catching on
yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 103,447 others
yourusername lando got .jpg-ed of his own for a change
view all comments
user3 the caption sounds….
yourusername @/user no comment
user8 MISS Y/N THAT FIRST PHOTO IS ILLEGAL
user5 i just gasped out loud at work in front of customers
user2 Y/N KNOWS WHAT WE WANT TO SEE
user1 i know we’re freaking over the first pic but his smile in the second one i’m so in love. how do you cope with him looking at you like that?
yourusername i quite simply don’t🩷
lando.jpg just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by daniel3.jpg, charles_leclerc and 95,602 others
lando.jpg holidays as captured by us
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user5 a whole fancy holiday to greece and stILL NO RING????
user7 mr. norris the next photo u post better be a damn proposal or god help me
charles_leclerc good decision to put her first, that way people don’t run away
user6 CHARLES😭😭😭
user1 JPGGGGG
user3 look at that GLOW she’s so main character (you’re cute too lando i guess)
yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 102,771 others
yourusername baby is away but still sending deliveries💐
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user7 flowers but never a ring… i could treat you better baby
landonorris 🤔
user3 ^^^ WHAT THEY SAID
oscarpiastri is this what you had to ask lewis for help with @/landonorris
landonorris international shipping isn’t my thing ok
user4 best boyfriend ever
user7 he COULD be the best husband ever, but🤭
landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 206,231 others
landonorris happy birthday babygirl. so glad u lived long enough to utter the words ‘get a picture of my boots dickhead they’re brighter than ur future’
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user7 so no bday proposal either😐
user5 SIR YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME
landonorris guys stop being mean i’m only small
danielricciardo he’s joking bullying turns him on
user1 lando you have to expect the marriage jokes in ur comments now
carlossainz55 feliz cumpleaños y/n!🥳
yourusername gracías, mi amigo🥹
user7 ‘my friend’ TEARS IN MY EYES SHES THE GRID BESTIE
yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by lewishamilton, carlossainz55 and 112,099 others
yourusername days in england are my fave bc it gave us my fav f1 driver (lewis hamilton)
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user4 Y/N/N U ARE SO REAL AHAHAHA
charles_leclerc i’m offended
yourusername ur my next favourite sweetie
landonorris IM NOT EVEN SECOND?
lewishamilton i expect you in a merc cap next race now
yourusername done king
lewishamilton visit soon🖤
landonorris absolutely not
user8 lando won’t propose so lewis said BET
lando.jpg just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by daniel3.jpg, charles_leclerc and 95,108 others
lando.jpg night at the opera
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user3 AT THE OPERA? AND STILL NO…? JPG!!!
user5 JPG!!! JPG JPG
user1 JPG
user9 JPG!
user2 JPG JPG JPG SAY IT WITH ME
user6 JPG JPG JPG
user7 JPG!!!!!!!!!
landonorris why are you all shouting a photo type in my comments
landonorris oh
lando.jpg just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by yourusername, daniel3.jpg and 100,072 others
lando.jpg singapore on film
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alex_albon JPG!!!
landonorris you have 3 seconds to leave my page
user8 IM IN TEARS OVER ALEX
user5 IT CAUGHT ON‼️
user1 definitely no ring☹️
yourusername reading your comments is like reading the latest tabloid
yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 105,602 others
yourusername what do you mean we’ve been together for eight whole years??? what do you mean we’re not 15, young, dumb and in love anymore? i’d take another 8 in a heartbeat🧡
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landonorris eh we’re still dumb and in love, just maybe not the first one. love you baby🧡
fernandoalo_official you are still a child.
user4 HAPPY 8 YEARS TO MY FAVOURITE COUPLE☹️☹️☹️
user5 all the behind the scenes of him taking photos :(
user7 she really is his muse huh
landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by lewishamilton, oscarpiastri and 214,520 others
landonorris sometimes when i look at you i think it’s only been 8 seconds with how much i learn about you each day. hard to believe it’s been 8 years, and that i love you more each day. no one else i’d want to spend the rest of my life with. i know you’re just settling until you can win over lewis (or charles, or george, or oscar, or alex, or carlos) but i’m feeling pretty lucky it’s me you chose to do that with.
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lewishamilton mate you just gotta get on my level
oscarpiastri good taste, y/n
landonorris NOT YOU TOO
yourusername thank you bff
user8 me waiting patiently for the anniversary proposal post????
user1 wishful thinking oomf
danielricciardo all jokes aside pal, happy you’ve managed to keep her around for this long despite being you. big love for you both🖤
landonorris HOW was that all jokes aside
yourusername believe it or not, it’s always you. happy anniversary baby🧡
yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 107,821 others
yourusername lando caught the behind the scenes of my selfie taking and let me tell u the distance between me n him is important
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user2 this was not the post i was expecting but i’ll still take it
user5 i was hoping we'd get a different post but you still look good ma'am
user8 the fact he’s always there to take photos of you >> girl you have landed on your FEET
yourusername tell me about it. luckiest girl in the WORLD
lando.jpg just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by daniel3.jpg, yourusername and 112,562 others
lando.jpg y/n by me, me by me, me by y/n
view all comments
user4 so it’s official … no proposal?
user5 jeez man JPG.
user3 jpg!!!
user1 just propose goddamniT
yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by lewishamilton, alex_albon and 206,719 others
yourusername i don’t even have the ability to be mean to you this time. my forever person. thank you for putting up with me. this feels like a dream i cannot believe i am a fiancée. THE EASIEST YES IVE EVER SAID (and you once asked me if i wanted to snooze the alarm)
view all comments
user3 OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD AM I DREAMING
user7 WHAT THE JAJHDBSVJA
lewishamilton finally! show me the ring this weekend (congratulations)
yourusername facetiming u rn
user5 IM???? MY LEGACY HAS ENDED AND I COULDNT BE HAPPIER
carlossainz55 couldn't be happier for the both of you
alex_albon LILY AND I ARE SCREAMING CONGRATS TO OUR FAVOURITE COUPLE
landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 377,290 others
landonorris took my time but got there eventually. ‘just propose goddamnit’ WELL LOOK AT ME NOW! gonna have myself a wife. i love you baby, thanks for screaming yes immediately so i didn’t have to wait to hear your answer
view all comments
landonorris @/user5 i hope ur happy now
user5 VERY.
charles_leclerc can't believe you pulled it off mate, congrats!
oscarpiastri sad i can't scream JPG at you in the garage anymore but happy for the both of you!
yourusername my oscar :( cannot wait to squeeze you this weekend
oscarpiastri @/yourusername i better be a bridesmaid
landonorris why not a groomsman????
oscarpiastri @/landonorris i like her more
mclaren wedding (mclaren's version)
----
a/n:
hello hello, i have had so much fun writing and creating this so i hope you like it!!!!
was going to wait to post but after the hell that was quali i thought hey why not now
thank you all for reading! as always, comments likes and messages are appreciated and whatnot🫶 take care of yourselves this week!!! the temperature is starting to drop in france so i am wrapped up warm and i hope you’re looking after yourself wherever you are
taglist (found here): @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicora @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101 @loxbbg @hobiismyhopeu @tsukishitm-a @moonypixel @champagneproblems17 @ironmaiden1313 @lqvesoph @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call @skatingiswalkingincursive @peqch-pie
4K notes · View notes
pucksandpower · 20 days
Text
A Crime Against Fashion
Charles Leclerc x fashion designer!Reader
Summary: you love Charles more than life itself, but everyone has a breaking point … and yours is those damn pants
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You stride into the spacious open-concept living room of the luxury apartment you share with your boyfriend, tossing your leather tote onto the couch with a huff. Another long day of design meetings and fittings for your upcoming spring collection has left you completely drained.
But your frustration isn’t just from work stress this time. No, it’s those blasted pants again.
As if on cue, Charles emerges from the bedroom wearing the dreaded blue and white tie-dye atrocities that have been your nemesis for weeks now. You can’t hold back a small groan of exasperation.
“What’s wrong, mon cœur?” Charles asks with his trademark lopsided smile, those warm emerald-colored eyes crinkling at the corners.
You gesture helplessly at the offending garment. “Charles … those pants. They’re just … how can I put this delicately? A crime against fashion.”
He glances down at the loose-fitting psychedelic nightmares, seemingly oblivious to their ugliness. “What do you mean? I think they’re kind of funky.”
“Funky?” You echo incredulously. “That’s one word for them, I suppose. Hideously unstylish is another.”
Charles pouts, sticking out his full lower lip in that irresistible way he knows gets you flustered. “But chérie, I really like them. They’re so comfy and casual.”
You shake your head adamantly, trying not to get distracted by how criminally attractive he looks even in those ridiculous pants. “No, nope. As your girlfriend and a designer, I simply cannot allow you to go out in public wearing those any longer. It’s a matter of principle!”
He raises an eyebrow skeptically. “Oh? And just what do you plan to do about it, hmm?”
A mischievous grin tugs at the corners of your mouth. “Well, I do have a few ideas …” You lunge toward him playfully.
With a yelp of surprise, Charles dodges out of the way, those long legs carrying him across the living room as you give chase. You laugh breathlessly, finally managing to catch him and wrap your arms around his slender waist from behind.
“Quit running away from me, Leclerc!” You tease, nuzzling against the back of his neck. “You know this is for your own good.”
Charles twists around in your arms until you’re face to face. His expression is one of feigned indignation but you can see his warm green eyes are dancing with amusement. “I will not be bullied about my clothing choices by you, Y/N Y/L/N! These pants are staying and that’s final!”
You answer by promptly planting a line of teasing kisses along the sharp line of his jaw, making him shiver. “Is that so? We’ll see about that, pretty boy.”
That evening, you make a point to avoid looking at or even acknowledging the offensive pants for the rest of the night. At one point, Charles good-naturedly tries to get a rise out of you by draping the tie-dyed nightmares over the back of the couch right in your line of sight. But you simply turn your nose up with an overdramatic harrumph, refusing to take the bait.
“Very mature,” Charles chuckles from beside you on the couch, his knee brushing against yours in that casual yet intimate way.
You shoot him a pointed look from the corner of your eye. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m simply refusing to lend any credibility to those … those …” You wave a hand vaguely in the direction of the pants hanging over the couch.
“You mean my pants?” Charles supplies helpfully, that infuriatingly charming grin stretching across his full lips.
“Ugh, don’t even call them that! Actual pants deserve more respect.” You lean your head against the back of the couch in exasperation.
Charles scoots closer until his side is flush against yours. He cups your jaw in one of those large, calloused racing hands and gently turns your face until you’re meeting his molten gaze. “You’re just jealous that I look better in them than you ever could, mon amour.”
His teasing words further ignite the spark of competitive spirit smoldering in your chest. With a surge of determination, you press a slow kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Challenge accepted, Leclerc.”
Two nights later, as Charles arrives back at the apartment after a grueling day of training, he immediately notices that something is … off.
He pads through the living room toward the bedroom, brow furrowed in confusion at the odd scattering of fabric scraps and loose threads on the floor. Your sewing machine is set up on the dining table, various rattles and clanks echoing from the bedroom.
“Y/N?” He calls out hesitantly. “Everything okay in there?”
You poke your head out from around the bedroom doorway, cheeks flushed and hair slightly askew. But your eyes are bright with mischief. “Charles! You’re home, perfect. Come in here for a second?”
With a shrug, he follows you into the bedroom. Only to stop dead in his tracks, jaw dropping almost comically. There on the floor in a tattered, unrecognizable heap of fabric are … his beloved tie-dye pants. The ones you had so vehemently loathed.
“Y/N, what … how … why …” he splutters, seemingly at a loss for words as he crouches down and gingerly runs a finger over the ragged remnants.
Resting your hands on your hips, you try not to look too triumphant. “What can I say? The cat got to them.”
Charles’ brows knit together in confusion. “We don’t have a cat, mon ange.”
Oops. Think fast.
“Well, uh, I was actually cat-sitting for Max today! You know how crazy Jimmy and Sassy can be. Those little balls of fluff must have gotten a hold of your pants and just went to town on them.”
You shrug innocently, the very picture of wide-eyed virtue. “Who can blame them, really? I warned you those pants were a crime against nature itself.”
For a long beat, Charles simply stares at the remains of his pants, then at you, eyes narrowed. You can practically see the realization dawning on his stupidly handsome face. Before he can call you out, you pivot on your heel.
“Anyway!” You clear your throat. “Since those pants were so adamantly beloved by you, I decided to give the fabric a little … redesign. Just to prove my point.” You turn back toward him, dropping the robe you had wrapped around yourself, to reveal your new creation. “What do you think?”
Charles’ breath seems to catch in his throat as you reveal the vibrant blue and white tie-dye fabric, repurposed into a sleek mini-skirt that hugs your curves in all the right ways. You punctuate the look by posing with one hand on your cocked hip, letting the skirt’s flirty hem swish teasingly.
“Well?” You raise an eyebrow challengingly, unable to keep the triumphant smirk from tugging at the corners of your mouth. “I believe you said something about looking better in those pants than me?”
To Charles’ credit, he recovers his powers of speech relatively quickly, running one hand through those tousled chestnut curls. “Y/N, you … you look …” He seems to struggle to find the words, green eyes raking over your figure appreciatively. "Incroyable. Magnifique."
You feel your cheeks warming at his praise, suddenly grateful for your impromptu redesign. “So I’ll take that as a point proven then?” You prod teasingly.
Charles finally tears his heated gaze from your body to meet your eyes, crossing the room in a few long strides until he’s crowding into your personal space. You catch your breath as his calloused hands settle on the curve of your waist, fingers brushing tantalizingly over the tie-dye fabric.
“More than proven, mon amour,” he rumbles in that low, gravelly tone that never fails to make your pulse kick up a notch. “I stand corrected — this fabric was absolutely meant for you and you alone.”
Before you can react with more than a breathless giggle, he dips his head to capture your lips in a searing kiss that leaves you dizzy and melting against the hard planes of his chest.
As you slowly break away trying to catch your breath, a wicked grin curves your lips. Placing your palms flat against Charles’ chest, you lean back just enough to meet his lidded, lust-blown gaze.
“You know …” you murmur, trailing a fingertip down the taut line of his throat and relishing the way his eyes darken further. “Now that I’ve refashioned those pants into this skirt, I believe that means they’re officially off-limits for you to wear. Unless …”
You bite your lower lip coyly, letting the implication hang in the air. Charles cocks an eyebrow, a rakish smirk of his own playing about those full lips as he catches your meaning.
“Unless what, ma belle?” His voice is thick with undisguised longing as he pulls you flush against him once more.
Stretching up on your tiptoes, you brush a feather-light kiss to that sharp, stubbly jawline. “Unless you’d fancy giving this skirt a spin for me sometime, Mr. Leclerc,” you practically purr into the heated space between your bodies. “Because I can absolutely get behind that look on you.”
Charles throws back his head with a rich peal of laughter, the sound reverberating through you. As his hands roam possessively over the tie-dye fabric now molded to your curves, you decide you’ll have to put in a request to see that particular fashion show very soon.
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katiexpunk · 3 months
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Desert Dust | Pairing Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
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Summary: You're a small-town waitress in a highway town in Arizona with a standard, safe life. You never really thought you needed more -- until you met Joel Miller. Warnings: Joel is a consent king in this one. No age gap mentioned (make it your own). Self-deprecation. Toxic coworkers. Attempted assault (not by Joel)/nothing too graphic (please be responsible about what you consume). Joel beats up a bad guy. References to blood and first aid. Alcohol. Pet names. Flirting/slow burn. Objectification of Joel by readers coworker. Inexperienced reader. Body hair. References to taste of vagina. Smoking/cigarettes (it's bad, don't do it). References to shitty past hookups. Oral (f receiving). Praise kink. Size kink. Rough sex. Sex on a desk. Just a really passionate, filthy fuck. Creampie (shocker, I know). No use of Y/N, no use of daddy. TLOU au. Reader has no physical descriptions apart from female anatomy. W/C: ~8K. Sorrrrrrry, not sorry? A/N: Hi, hello. It's been a hot minute since I've been here! I took a hiatus for the past few months because life was, well, life and I was busy getting married. Happy to be back. This one was inspired by a drive through the Arizona desert. Special thanks to @syd-djarin for being a slut with me on this one. Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Notifications | Read Joel's POV
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Humans rely on cooperation, communication, and mutual aid for survival and well-being. Without that, it’s like being cast adrift in a hostile sea without the safety net of community and companionship.
You know this.
And so that’s why you stay, that’s why you’ve always stayed. 
Even if most of your days feel lonely, at least you have the comfort of predictability. 
++++
"I’m goin' on my break, Tracy," you call out, tossing the words casually over your shoulder as you grab your hoodie and a pack of American Spirit cigarettes from behind the counter. Sometimes you think the only reason you still have the damn vice is for the excuse to step out of the suffocating walls of the grease-drenched building they call a restaurant. 
Tracy responds with a touch too much of feigned enthusiasm, pouring a steady stream of black liquid into the mug of the customer sitting in the booth before her. 
With a nod of acknowledgment, you slip out the restaurant's back door, the hinges creaking softly in protest as you step into the crisp Arizona air. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting long shadows across the dusty ground as you light up your cigarette, the flame dancing in the breeze.
As you inhale deeply, the familiar taste of tobacco fills your lungs, calming your nerves and grounding you in the present moment. Leaning against the weathered brick wall, your thoughts drift as wisps of smoke curl lazily into the sky. 
In the distance, you can hear the faint sound of laughter and chatter drifting from inside, a comforting reminder of the community that surrounds you. Here, amidst the tumbleweeds and endless blue skies, is a place you’ve called home since you ran away from yours at sixteen. It’s not much, but it’s something. Something is always better than nothing, right? People know you by name when you go to the grocery store, and know your order at the only coffee shop in town – big-city girls don’t get that. 
As you take one last drag from your cigarette, you try to summon feelings of gratitude for what you do have, but as the smoke dissipates into the desert air, a lingering sense of restlessness gnaws at the edges of your mind.
It's only when you stamp out the cigarette in the dirt below, watching the embers fade into darkness, that you dare to entertain the notion that perhaps you could have more. 
++++
You step back into the restaurant, and your eyes adjust to the fluorescent lights above, a stark contrast from the natural light of the sun. Carefully tucking your hoodie away and readjusting your apron strings, you prepare to dive back into work. 
As you glance around, you notice Tracy frantically pacing back and forth behind the bar, her demeanor tinged with a hint of frazzled energy. It's not the busiest you've ever been, but for her, every customer that walks through the door feels like a tidal wave of chaos – especially when it’s just you two on the floor. 
With a sympathetic smile, you nod in understanding as she thrusts a stack of menus into your hands, followed by a piping hot coffee pot. "Be a doll and go take table three’s order, will ya?" she says, her voice tinged with urgency. Before you can even acknowledge her request, she’s off, stacking her forearms with plates, yelling that she’ll be right there honey to the patrons by the door. 
You make your way over to the table, weaving through the maze of booths and tables with practiced ease. As you approach, you notice a lone figure sitting hunched over in a worn leather jacket, eyes fixed on the menu in front of him. He sits up to full height and adjusts himself in the booth, eyes still on the sticky plastic in front of him, giving you a full view of his side profile. 
Fuck – he’s gorgeous. Handsome in a way that unmoors you. 
Rugged, weathered charm exudes from him. He turns to look at you and oh. His salt-and-pepper curls frame a face weathered by sun and wind, a beard streaked with grey adding an air of distinguished maturity. His eyes are soft and brown, enveloped by small creases in the corners. 
Your thighs come flesh with the edge of the table, and with the coffee pot in hand, you can't help but feel a flutter of anticipation in the pit of your stomach, settling there like a stack of pancakes eaten way too fast. 
Clearing your throat, you offer him a tentative smile. Get a grip – he’s just another customer, you silently plead with yourself. 
"Hi," you say, your voice a little softer than usual. "Can I get you something to drink?"
As his eyes meet yours, a brief but intense connection crackles between you. There's something in his gaze, a depth that you can't quite decipher, leaving his thoughts shrouded in mystery. His face remains stony, and unreadable, like the weathered cliffs that dot the desert landscape.
Your breath hitches in your throat as you follow his eyes drifting down your chest, lingering for a moment on the nametag pinned to the worn cotton of your uniform. Heat rises to your cheeks under his scrutiny. You wish you would have opted for your cleaner uniform this morning. You’ve never been one to care too much about your looks, mostly because nobody looks at you, not really. All catcalls from drunk men in bars and the occasional flirty customer. But you’re suddenly hyper-aware of the attention he’s giving.
His eyes finally settle on the coffee pot in your hand, a subtle shift in focus that breaks the spell of tension between you. "Just coffee, darlin'," he says, his voice honey-thick, low, and raspy like the rumble of distant thunder.
You nod silently, the words caught in your throat as you turn to pour him a steaming cup of coffee. 
“You let me know if I can get you anything else,” you whisper, letting the corners of your lips turn up into a small, cordial, smile. 
“Just coffee for me today, sweetheart, thank you.” 
Walking away, you can’t help but notice the feeling of the weight of his gaze lingering on you long after you do. 
He sits in silence, nursing his coffee with a quiet intensity that commands attention. His presence seems to cast a shadow over the room, drawing the gaze of both patrons and staff alike. You steal glances at him between customers and try not to read into the fact that his eyes are usually on you by the time you find him. He’s not staring – he couldn’t be – why would he be? You shove the thought down and focus on your tasks at hand, him calling you sweetheart playing like a broken record in your mind, over and over. 
Tracy, usually bustling about with the frenetic energy of a hummingbird, is unusually attentive to him. She stops by his table more often than necessary, refilling his cup with a gentle touch and addressing him with a warmth you've rarely seen her reserve for anyone else. You swear you even saw her push her tits up behind the wall before going out to him – but you can’t blame her, you’d probably do the same if you had as much to work with as she does. 
As you work behind the bar counter, wiping down tables and clearing plates, Tracy tries to engage you in conversation about the mysterious stranger. "Been a long time since we've had a man like that in here," she says, a hint of gossip in her voice, wrapped pretty in a bow of objectification. She reminds you of a praying mantis, attempting to draw in her prey before she eats him. 
"Yeah," you murmur, not quite wanting to talk about him, especially not with her. 
Excusing yourself, you slip into the bathroom, the wooden door offering a momentary respite. Leaning against the slightly sticky surface, you close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of composure. But despite your efforts, you can't shake the feeling that something has shifted. Looking at the reflection in the mirror, you can’t help but feel the twisty weird tug that pools in your lower belly, and the uptick in your heart rate. You attempt to fix your hair and pinch your cheeks to add some volume to your face. You slip on a touch of chapstick and assess yourself. This is so fucking stupid. He’s a customer. Just a customer. You’re just bored, horny, and alone. 
But maybe he is, too?
No. Stop.
After a moment, you emerge from the bathroom, only to find his table empty, a worn $20 bill – more than enough to cover his check – left behind as a silent farewell. Your heart sinks at the realization that he's gone, slipping away like a ghost in the night. Shit.
You didn't even catch his name, and now he's just another fleeting memory, a stranger passing through your life like a whisper in the wind. And though you try to convince yourself that it doesn't matter, that you'll forget about him by morning. 
But when dawn breaks the next day, he’s the first thought that crosses your mind. 
++++
The days turn into weeks, each blending seamlessly into the next in the endless cycle of small-town life. But amidst the monotony of routine, there's a flicker of anticipation that ignites in your chest every time you step foot into the restaurant – the hope that he might, too. 
Stupid, silly little small-town girl. 
You’re in the middle of bussing a rather messy table, throwing empty plates and glasses into a bucket after the lunch rush when the sound of bells above the door and heavy boot steps echoes through the restaurant. Not looking up from the table, you yell out take a seat wherever you want, throwing the final pieces of flatware into the bin. Raising it to your hip, your attention finally snaps to the customer and fuck – 
You freeze there. 
His hand lifts in a simple greeting. 
His presence is a magnetic force that shifts the air in the room. Clad in the same worn leather jacket and a dark tee, he exudes a silent, sturdy confidence. You know nothing about him, but you feel like you’d trust him with your life. 
“Oh, hi. Um, go ahead and take a seat, I’ll be with you in just a second, just gonna drop this in the back,” you say, trying to hide your smile, your excitement. 
He’s a customer. Not a bored and horny customer. Just a customer. 
As he settles into the booth next to the window, you can't help but feel a rush of excitement coursing through your veins. You greet him again with a smile, your voice warm with genuine affection, and he nods in return, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment longer than necessary.
But before you can exchange more than a few words, Tracy swoops in like a hawk, eager to monopolize his attention. She's quick to bring him a menu, bring him a coffee, and offer him a selection of homemade pies, her enthusiasm bordering on overwhelming.
You watch from afar, a pang of frustration chewing at the edges of your composure like a moth to cloth in an old closet. It's as if Tracy has staked her claim on him, leaving little room for anyone else to form a connection. And yet, despite her best efforts, you can still feel the weight of his attention on you, a silent reassurance that you're not alone in this silent dance of whatever the fuck this is. 
You think that maybe it’s all in your head – maybe he is into Tracy, and you’re confusing his affection for something it’s not. It wouldn’t be the first time. Lord knows you’re no stranger to having one too many vodka sodas and pining after the affection of the first person who looks at you, crying in the passenger seat of a truck of some guy who gave you attention hours before.
Lord know how many nights you check your phone every three seconds just to be disappointed. Too busy begging for the love of someone who doesn’t want you, and never will. Yet you’re just so hopeful. Hopeful that one day it might not feel this way, hopeful that someone will want you back. 
You wonder if you want so desperately to be seen, that you’d twisted every lingering glance, smile, and hello, for something it’s not. 
When you enter the dining room, your heart once again sinks when you notice him rising from his booth, getting ready to leave. His eyes catch yours and you give him a small wave goodbye. He holds yours while he tucks something under his coffee cup, giving you a nod, letting you know that he wants you to pick it up. His face is unreadable when he eventually walks out. 
Walking over to the table, you notice cash tucked neatly under an empty coffee mug. But you notice something else, too. A worn business card for Joel Miller, CEO of Miller Brothers Contracting. It’s a simple card, just his name and an email on the front. But when you turn it over, you’re surprised to find a phone number scribbled on the back. 
Maybe it’s not all in your head. ++++
Later that night, standing in the dark alley of the restaurant, the cement damp from the afternoon rain, Tracy's words hang heavy in the air like a dense cloud of cigarette smoke. You listen in silence as she talks about him, her tone laced with a confidence that borders on arrogance.
"I think I'm gonna ask him to get a drink," she says, her voice carrying a hint of excitement. "I think he's into me. I mean, come on, who else stops in and only orders coffee, and leaves a tip like he does? Even caught him looking at my ass once."
Her words cut through the stillness of the desert night, harsh and abrasive in contrast to the quiet solitude that surrounds you. Tracy has always been one to flaunt her looks, to revel in the attention of men like Joel who pass through the diner's doors. There aren’t many.
But as you listen to her speak, a knot forms in the pit of your stomach, a silent warning that this pursuit of Joel may lead to heartbreak for one or both of you. You've seen the way he looks at you, the way his eyes linger on you when he thinks no one else is watching. You slip your hand into the apron and thumb over the paper of his business card. 
You want to warn her, to tell her to tread carefully, but the words catch in your throat like smoke caught in a breeze. Instead, you offer her a weak smile, masking the turmoil brewing beneath the surface.
"Yeah, Tracy," you say, your voice tinged with forced enthusiasm. "Go for it. You deserve someone who appreciates you."
But as she stubs out her cigarette and heads back into the restaurant you can't help but smirk knowing he gave his card to you. 
It’s finally your turn to be wanted. 
But you don’t call, or text him. You want to, you do, but you don’t know what to say, or where to begin. You’re so out of practice when it’s something that matters. It’s easier to pretend he still wants you if you don’t break the illusion—or that’s the lie you tell yourself, anyway.
++++
Some weeks later, you find yourself alone in the empty restaurant – Tracy having called out for the night. It’s slow. Way too slow. The late hour weighs heavy on your shoulders. George, the cook, went home almost an hour ago. You work to check off the tasks on your list before you leave for the night, and eventually accomplish everything except filling the salt shakers. 
You could have sworn you turned off the neon open sign and locked the doors until the familiar sound of bells chimes through the empty restaurant. 
“We’re closed,” you yell out, twisting the final cap on the last salt shaker. 
Your eyes flicker up to find a large man stumbling through the door, his presence heavy with the unmistakable scent of whiskey and cigarettes. He doesn’t look so good, his skin is pale and damp, eyes glassed over.
You rise from your booth, a sense of unease prickling at the back of your mind as you approach him. Despite your better judgment, you tell him to take in any booth of his choice, while you head behind the bar to grab him a glass of water. When you set it down in front of him, he bristles at your gesture, his words slurred and tinged with aggression at the fact that you brought him fucking water. Your patience wears thin as he rebuffs your offer, his tone sharp and abrasive.
"Just trying to help you out here" you snap, a hint of irritation creeping into your voice. You’re not sure where the irritation is coming from, but it feels right –  natural – a built-in defense mechanism. But instead of backing down, he responds with a menacing snarl, his hand shooting out to grip your wrist in a bruising hold. Panic surges through you as you try to pull away, his grip tightening with each futile attempt.
"Let me go," you plead, the fear evident in your voice as he rises from the booth and crowds you against a nearby table, condiments spilling over the edge of the table. His hands move to grip your upper arms with a forceful intensity. You stumble slightly, the weight of his presence pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket, your head turned to the side to avoid having to look at him. “I’ll tell you what, you little bitch –” 
You feel the rapid beat of your pulse, the thrum of blood in your veins. You struggle against the man. Your inner voice screams danger, but just as you feel the panic rising in your chest, the familiar sound of chimes rings through your ears. Within seconds, a new figure looms into view, his broad frame casting a shadow over the scene unfolding before you – to you. With a swift movement, he pulls the man off of you, his voice a growl of warning as he asserts his dominance.
“I’d think twice if I were you before you try and win this one,” Joel says, voice low and threatening.  
It's him.
Relief floods through you at the sight of him, a silent thank you echoing in your mind as he stands between you and the aggressor. And as he faces off with the man, his protective stance speaks volumes. Your mind goes a little fuzzy from the adrenaline as you watch the man struggle in his grasp, followed by a slur of cuss words, ultimately ending in Joel punching him in the face, the harsh sound of bone to face. 
It shouldn’t turn you on, the violence of it all, but it sort of does. The outward display in your defense appeals to the primitive, underived part of your brain, the way a knight would defend a maiden’s honor. 
He drags the man out of the establishment, and you hear him tell him to get the fuck out and never come back. 
He locks the door and turns to face you. Your arms come up to grab yourself in an instinctual hug, your body is a little shaky from the interaction. Without saying anything, he walks over to you, bringing both of his hands to the sides of your arms – the same place where the man had grabbed you – but his touch feels different. Gentle, reassuring, safe. 
“You alright?” he says, a deep crease between his brow as he looks down at you, his eyes filled with concern. 
“I’m alright – tha,” your words break a little, and you start to feel hot tears cling to your lashline, “thank you,” you manage to blurt out, avoiding looking at him in the eyes, not wanting him to see yours all teary. 
He brings a hand up to cup your cheek and uses the edge of his thumb to tilt you up to look at him. You bring your hand to meet his on your cheek and notice a sticky sensation under your palm. You grab his hand and bring it down to your eye level, noticing the blood on it, a giant split down the middle of one of his knuckles. Jesus, if his hand looks like this, what must that guy’s face look like?
"You're hurt," you say, the tears in your eyes now replaced with genuine concern. "It's okay, don't worry about it, doesn't hurt," he reassures, but you can tell he's probably lying. 
"We've got a first aid kit in the back. Let me clean you up," you insist, nodding towards the rear of the room.
"It’s alright sweetheart, you don't have to, really…" he protests.
"You just defended me. Bandaging your knuckles is the least I can do to thank you," you tell him firmly, leaving no room for refusal.
Interlacing your fingers with his on his left hand, you guide him through the restaurant.
Navigating through the kitchen, smelling of oil and french fries, you caution him to watch his step on the freshly mopped yet always greasy floors.
In the small office, you flick on the light switch and rummage through the cabinets until you find an old first aid kit tucked away in the back. Joel leans against the desk, quietly observing you. "Ah, got it," you say with a hint of excitement that you found the kit, a little surprised there was even one stashed away. Though most of the bandages and finger condoms are missing, there's still plenty of gauze and alcohol wipes.
He stands silently, watching as you work to open the kit, his eyes fixed on you, particularly when you rip open the alcohol wipe with your teeth. "This might sting a bit," you warn, meeting his gaze with genuine care. 
“You can make it up to me later,” he whispers. His tone, the intention behind his words sends an exciting zap down your spine. There’s shared silence. As you’re patting the blood on his knuckles, that same feeling of raw want, painted with uncertainty, settles in your stomach. 
“Can I ask you something,” he says, and you flick your eyes up to meet his for a moment before lowering them back down his hand. You let out a soft mhmm in response, knowing his question before he’s even asked it. 
“Why didn’t you call?” 
The boldness of his question stops you. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “I wanted to. I mean, I almost did – I typed out so many texts to you it’s borderline embarrassing,” you pause for a second to grab the gauze from the counter behind him. You lean in close enough to catch the scent of him – cedarwood and fresh cotton, the earthy scent of desert dust clinging to his clothes. 
“I guess I’m just not used to being wanted. Don’t know how to do this kind of thing. I’ve been alone for so long, and I guess, I don’t know, Joel,” you affix a little piece of tape to the gauze, before dropping his hand, all finished. 
You stand before him, looking at his chest and the bare skin on his neck that’s dotted with freckles, avoiding his eyes.  
“I didn’t want to embarrass myself. Not sure why a guy like you would even want a girl like me to call him anyway…” you trail off, letting out a small cough to hide the emotion creeping up in your throat. Have you always been this self-deprecating?
His hands float up to your hips, and he tugs you in closer to him, body weight still propped up against the desk, his thick thighs bracketing yours. You still avoid his eyes, your gaze fixed on a button on his shirt in front of you. 
“Look at me, sweetheart.”
The bandaged hand trails up over the side of your body, and his fingers land under your chin, his thumb tilting you up to look at him. You’re sure you must look like a mess, eyes tired from a long shift, mascara smudged from your tears. How pathetic you must look. The pad of his thumb caresses over your lips and you hold your breath. 
There’s so much he could say, so much he wants to say. He wants to build you up, to tell you that you’re worthy of the whole world. That you’re beautiful and kind, and that any man would be lucky to have you. He doesn’t even have to deeply know you to know those things. 
But he can tell from the look in your eyes that it’s not what you need right now. He’ll tell you someday. He’ll tell you every day if you’ll have him. 
But no. 
Right now you don’t need someone to tell you how gorgeous you are, you need someone to show you.
“Joel,” you say, your voice just above a whisper. His thumb is still on your lower lip. 
“Ki–” Before you can continue, his hand drops, and his lips crash into yours and he groans. He wants to rip you open, eat you raw, to devour every inch of you. You’ve had plenty of kisses, but none like this – none full of such heat, a fiery intensity, a need. He wants you. Joel wants you. 
He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and you let out a little whimper. The sweet sound goes straight to his already hardening cock. He holds you tighter to his chest, thick and capable hands on your hips as he dips his mouth to your neck, kitten-kissing you as delicately as a man his size can. He skims his injured hand underneath your shirt, caressing the skin between your shoulder blades. Your breath hitches in your throat as he nips at your jaw, eliciting a soft moan from you. And oh – he likes that. 
“Fuck, baby. Wanna go slow with you, take my time. Do it right,” he says, his voice a little wrecked already and he’s barely touched you. 
His hand trails up and pulls the shirt of your uniform down over your breast, exposing the simple lacey bra you’ve had for far too long. You would be embarrassed about him seeing it if you weren’t so aroused, drunk on his touch. You continue to let out little moans as he kisses your neck, and thumbs at your nipple beneath the fabric.
“Wanna show you what you’re worthy of sweet girl, in all the ways,” he groans into your chest. 
His words melt into you like butter, making you feel all soft and weak-limbed, fuzzy in a way that’s new to you. 
“I want you to fuck me so badly,” you blurt out, lost in the delusion of arousal. The words come naturally for a girl who never really had more than a one-night stand or some shitty fuck from a guy who drank too much whiskey – his dick half-hard, promising he’ll rock your world.
That does it for him.
Joel’s cock is rock hard, with an almost painful stiffness. He wants so badly for you to just fall to your knees in this tiny little office and suck it. He wants so badly to hold the column of your throat while he shoves his thick cock into your wet and waiting mouth, feel him deep down your throat. 
But as much as he needs that right now, he knows he has an obligation. To make you feel good. To make you feel good about yourself in every way. 
He hopes to god that you’ll chant his name like a prayer when he unravels you like a spool of thread. He can hear it in his head now, as he licks your soft skin and holds you against him. He can’t stop thinking about how pretty you’ll sound when you come for him.
“Patience, angel baby. You’re in good hands,” he purrs. If you weren’t so hazy you might’ve made a joke about him only having one good hand at the moment. He would chuckle at that, you briefly think, before his husky voice speaks again. 
“Can I undress you?” he asks. You’ve never been asked that, most of the other men we’re quick just to take your clothes off. Too sloppy, too eager – careless. You’re starting to realize how hot consent is.
You toe off your beat-up sneakers and work to take off your shirt and bra, all while Joel unbuttons your skirt. You wiggle your hips to assist him in removing the barrier. After what seems like no time at all, you’re nearly fully nude in front of him, bare save the thin cotton of your panties. As a reflex, you cross your arms over your chest in an attempt to hide your body, wishing you could blend into the wallpaper. 
“God damn, sweetheart. Look at you,” Joel says, taking a small step back and admiring the view. He looks at you like you’re a masterpiece, a piece of art holding court just for him to gaze at. 
He gently grabs the arm you’re covering yourself with and exposes your bare chest. Goosebumps collect like pebbles on your skin from the cool air, and your nipples harden from the significance of the moment. 
“No need’ta hide from me,” he assures you. You believe him. 
You push your chest out to him, for him. He accepts your offering; swipes a calloused thumb across your plush, silky nipple, and crouches to catch the other in his desperate mouth. He groans into your chest the second your nipple meets his lips. You can’t control the deep hum that escapes from your throat. Joel smirks at the sound, lips still attached to your breast. 
“Feels so good, Joel,” you moan. You have of course played with your nipples when you touched yourself, but you’ve never had a man pay so much attention to them, to be gentle and firm at the same time. 
He trails kisses down the valley of your breasts, across the soft swell of your stomach, whispering sweet praises as he does. You drape your hands over his broad shoulders and thread your fingers through the curls that gather on the back of his head as he works his way down to the band of your panties. Much like your bra, you’d wish you opted for a cuter pair of underwear. Not like you own any anyway, but something tells you he could give two shits about that right now. 
On his knees, he places both of his hands on the curves of your hips and holds you steady while he looks up at you. He looks up at you with a softness you’ve never seen in a man, his pupils so dark they edge out most of the brown, his hooded eyes are almost a plea for you to let him continue. 
“Can I take these off, baby?” he asks, already hooking his thumbs in the band of them, awaiting your permission. 
You pause with your mouth agape a bit, not quite sure what to say. Every fiber of your being wants you to say yes, yes, yes. But you’re nervous – you haven’t shaved, and you remember Tracy saying something about men not liking hair on women, especially not on their pussy — a man won’t even eat you out if you’ve not been properly groomed. 
What if you taste weird? What if he doesn’t like it? You’ve only been eaten out once if you can even classify it as such, and he was down there for maybe two seconds before he was rising and wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand, claiming whatever you’re wet enough before shoving his rather average cock into your pussy, paying no mind to you or your pleasure. 
“You, um, you don’t have to. It’s okay, really…” you shy away, trying to give Joel an out. 
His prominent nose presses into your mound and he moans, moans, at your smell. 
“Smell so sweet, need to taste you, sweetheart. I won’t if you don’t want me to, but fuck, I would love to,” he says, the truth behind his voice evident in his tone. His cock twitches against the confines of his jeans. 
He suspects you’ve never had a real man take care of you, taking the time to pleasure you to your heart’s content. A damn shame, he thinks. 
“O-kay,” you say on an exhale. You’re determined to not let the negative thoughts swirling in your head win. 
“I gotcha, don’t worry,” he rasps out, his voice equal parts gentle, and gruff with desire. 
He gently tugs the fabric down over your thighs, the fabric gathering at your ankles. You take a small step out of them, and he gently caresses up the back of your calve, and back of your thigh, his hand landing on the curve of your ass. He tightly grabs the flesh there. He gently guides your leg up onto one of his shoulders, and you press back into the wall and lean your pelvis closer to him. 
“Fuck, what a pretty little pussy,” he praises, before leaning in to place an experimental kiss on the top of your mound. You let out a soft little sound at the feeling of his lips on your skin. He looks up at you once again, making sure you aren’t uncomfortable, before once again returning his attention to your cunt. 
He gets bold with his kisses, and once you’re comfortable with his mouth on you, he glides the middle finger of his non-bandaged hand through your wet slit before flipping it so it’s wrist up, pausing with the pad of it right at the entrance of your tight hole. You look down at him with lusty doe eyes and bite your lower lip in anticipation, still a little nervous. He looks at you and gently nudges the nip in, he holds it there for a brief second, before fully thrusting it up into your core, holding your gaze as he enters you. You gasp.
“Fuck angel, you’re tight,” he moans as he continues to feel you, eventually putting his mouth back on your pussy, his lips sealed around your puffy clit. His large finger pumps in and out of you as his tongue flicks and swirls where you need him the most. 
“More,” you moan, “Fuck–please, Joel, give me more,” you mewle. 
“That’s my girl, gonna stretch you out, get you nice and ready for this cock,” he whispers against your wet skin as he slips another finger in, one you greedily accept. He devours you, licks at you like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. It’s so precise, so overwhelming, so fucking good. 
Heat pools in your lower abdomen, and the world goes a little fuzzy at the edges of your vision. You’ve had an orgasm before, you think, but you don’t remember it feeling like this. 
You moan as he sets a relentless pace with his mouth and fingers, slowly tightening the coil inside of you in a way you’ve never felt before. Time slows for a brief moment and your vision goes white, little specks of light dancing behind your eyelids, heat rushing up to your chest and cheeks. 
Until – 
“Holy shit, yes, I’m coming, oh my god, don’t stop,” you unravel for him, a babbling mess of pleasure, he holds you steady as he works you through it. And when he’s satisfied that you’re satisfied, he gently hoists your leg off of his shoulder and rises to his full height. 
“Such a good girl for me, you come so pretty,” he whispers against your neck, nipping at your jaw until his lips find yours. You taste yourself on them, feel the wetness in his beard. He slips his tongue into your mouth and you moan. It’s so hot to taste yourself on him, dizzying that he’s not wiping it away. He wants you. Joel wants you.
The daze of your release wears off, hurling you back down to earth. Joel kept his promise, he did show you what you’re worthy of. No more mediocre, subpar sex for you. You are worthy of that. Deserve that and more. It’d be rude of you not to return the favor. 
On jelly-like legs, you begin to kneel before him, wanting nothing more than to be a practitioner of pleasure, to elicit another good girl from him. He stops you before your knees touch the floor. 
“You don’t want me to suck your cock?” you ask, feeling a sting of rejection. 
“Oh angel baby, I would love to feel those sweet little lips of yours wrapped tight around my cock, hold your throat as you choke on me,” he coos.
You bring your palm to cup him through his jeans and he groans, your hands trace over the thick shape. He’s big. You watch as his jaw tightens and his head falls back as you work over him. You can’t help but feel excited when you feel a damp spot on his jeans, the place where his pre-come has gathered. 
“But there’s something I want more right now. Feel what you do to me?” he says, pressing your hand harder down onto him. “Need to feel that sweet, tight cunt of yours around me first,” he says with intensity, an urgency in his voice. You make quick work of undoing his belt buckle and slip off his jeans and boxers in one swoop. 
Truly seeing him, the sight of his heavy cock in all its glory, makes your mouth water a little. 
“Yo–you’re so big,” you say, a little intimidated. He grabs you by the hips and holds you tight against him, his cock pressed between your bodies against the bare flesh of your tummy. You think you might actually feel him there when he’s inside you at this rate. 
“It’s okay, sweetheart. You can take it,” he says, using one hand to grab the back of your thigh and tapping the other. You get the memo. He lifts you and spins you around so you’re sitting on the mahogany desk behind you, your damp skin sticking to the mess of customer receipts and supply lists underneath you. He stands between your legs, holding himself by the base, pumping himself slowly up and down his length. “I’m on birth control,” you say, blurting it out. “And I’m clean, you don’t have to use a condom, I mean, if you don’t want to.” And shit – that’s music to his fucking ears. 
“Okay. Open your legs wide for me, baby. Wanna see you,” he says, and you do. He juts his head down and spits onto it, using his fist to work it onto himself. You hold your legs open in a V, bracing yourself with your arms behind you. Your ass hangs slightly off the edge of the desk, just enough for him to have full access and view of your glistening slit.  
He positions himself at your entrance and gently pushes his hips forward so the tip of him is inside of you. He pauses there, giving you a second to adjust. Your heart throbs in your chest, and your eyes flicker closed. 
“Eyes on me, baby. Wanna see you as I take what’s mine,” he says, his voice a wreck. When you open them, he sinks even deeper. Halfway inside of you, he pauses again. 
“Okay?” he asks. You nod. 
You can tell he’s holding back, not wanting to hurt you. And while you may be out of practice, you know your body was made for this. You feel so full, so content, you just want to feel all of him. After he’s confident you’re ready, he pushes his hips forward once again, fully burying himself deep inside of you. 
Your pussy walls clench against him, and your jaw goes slack. You were right, you do feel him in your tummy. He’s so fucking big, but god, it feels good. It’s like he’s stuffing and filling all of the lonely spaces that have been hiding inside of you for so long. Like he was made for you.
He sets a slow and steady rhythm at first, dragging in and out of you. You can tell he wants to fuck you harder, deeper. You can tell that he’s waiting for you to take it there, to give him that permission. 
“You can fuck me harder, Joel. ‘M not gonna break, I promise,” you coo. His hand at your hip flexes tighter, and that’s all he needs. “Shit, c’mere,” he says, helping you off the desk, steading your legs. He flips you over and presses you against the desk, your bare breasts flesh against the cool wood, your hips perfectly positioned at the edge, bent over and waiting to once again be stuffed. 
He stands behind you, angles your hips up slightly, and once again buries himself in you.
“Such a perfect cunt,” he groans, beginning to set a relentless pace. Something about this angle does something for you, too. His cock fits just right, pushing and gliding over the spongey spot inside of you that makes you see stars. He holds your hips tightly as he pumps in and out of you, eliciting throaty moans from you. The air is filled with the filthy wanton sound of skin slapping against skin. 
“I –” you mew, “I think I’m gonna come again,” you say, breathless. 
“Come for me, baby. Be the good girl I know you are and show me how pretty you are when you come on my cock,” he says, a little out of breath, voice deep. 
Good girl. Pretty. Come for him. 
And you do. Your pussy pulses around him as the wave of your orgasm takes over you, your mind hazy and filled with nothing but the thought of the way he fills you just right. 
His movements begin to slow. You can tell he’s close. 
“Where do you want me, baby?”
“Inside, please. Want you to fill me up, make me yours,” you rasp, beg. 
After a few more thrusts of his hips, he begins to stutter and slow. He pauses buried to the hilt inside of you and groans as his cock paints your insides with thick ropes of come. 
He holds you there, both of your breaths coming a little ragged, his body shaking and jolting a little. You feel him pulse inside of you. You’re not sure you’ve ever felt this content, utterly blissed out from the feeling of him – all of him – deep inside of you. 
When he pulls out, you let out a small moan, a little sad your pussy has nothing to clench around anymore. He tells you to stay there for a second before he returns with a handful of paper towels from the kitchen to help clean you up. 
He kisses you again. It’s different this time, not as intense as the first few, but just as hot, just as passionate. The same pull you felt the moment he first entered the restaurant. 
He helps you get dressed, and you fasten his belt buckle for him and check the gauze on his fist. You both stand there in silence, not quite sure where to go from here, until he offers up. 
“Wanna smoke?” 
++++ 
“So, how long have you lived here’?” he asks, holding open the lit zippo from his back pocket to you. With the cigarette dangling between your lips, you steady it between your fingers and lean in, the dim glow of the fire illuminates your features. 
“Too long,” you mumble, taking a big drag. Now you get why in movies after a really good sex scene the characters always want a cigarette. You watch as he lights his own. 
“And you, where are you off to next?” You don’t want him to leave. 
“Not sure, the contract job my brother and I have in the county over ends in a week or so. Was thinkin’ it might be nice to head south, maybe Austin,” he responds, smoke dancing in the air around him. 
Your stomach twists a bit at the thought. Don’t go. 
“Although, ‘M not so sure anymore. Starting to think I might have a few things I need to take care of here first,” he says, shifting his gaze from the ground until his hooded eyes find yours. 
He gives you a subtle wink. You smile.
You stand there in comfortable silence, leaning up against the wall next to him, taking in the crisp desert air, enjoying being next to him. 
And when it’s time to go, he offers you his hand and a ride home. You accept.
But this time when you stamp out the cigarette, watching the embers fade into darkness, you fully entertain the notion that not only could you have more.
You will. 
Especially if Joel has anything to say about it.
END
Or if you want, you can read Joel’s POV here.
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Tagging some moots cuz I'm sure Tumblr will probably fuck my engagement on this one since I haven't posted in forever :/ If you like this, please consider a reblog (dm me if you want to be removed): @endlessthxxghts @theoasisofthings @pedrostories @bastardmandennis @milly-louise @ghostwritesthings @josephquinnswhore @drunk-and-capable @hellishjoel @survivingandenduring @hotgirlbedtimescenarios @ohheypedrito @joeldjarin @nerdieforpedro @amyispxnk @paleidiot @ghostwritesthings @kulekehe @darkheartgatita @goldenhxurs @javiscigarette @morallyinept @ro-nahime-things @gwendibleywrites @missladym1981 @auteurdelabre @morgaussy
ily.
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mommypieck · 7 months
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𑄽୧ threesome with gojo and geto𔓘 ᰍ
kinktober day 20: porn star fucking!!!
✿ geto suguru x reader x gojo satoru
✿ warnings: oral (fem & male receiving, fingering, ass play, basically couch porn casting
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"So you want to be a pornstar," Geto states, sitting in his chair in front of you. You feel your body sweating all over, and you try not to wrinkle your dress more than it already is by holding the edges with your fist. Geto watches your every move and every expression on your face. You decided to try signing up for his porn agency when you lost your job, and porn is always a good way to get money. However, the first mistake you made was wearing a short flower dress to your interview, making Geto smirk as soon as he saw you in the door.
"Tell me about your sex life, y/n," he tells you, and your cheeks turn red. Of course, he would ask a question like this for the type of job you're trying to get.
"Um, I don't have… coitus that often," you say, looking down at your lap. Geto's eyebrows rise at the word coitus, you're certainly inexperienced, but he sees something for you. You're not too young to be naive about doing something like this, but he suspects you're not fit for a job like this.
"And your favorite position?" he asks, making you stutter. The door swings open, and you feel relieved that it stopped you from answering. Your face falls fast when you see the person in the door. You've seen him in the porn videos Geto makes, more specifically his dick. He flashes you a wide smile, his blue eyes blinking at you.
"Are you new here, love?" his question catches you off guard, making both men chuckle.
"Yeah, she's new," Geto smirks at Gojo, making him whistle. Satoru is used to a different type of women in this industry. He has seen loads of slutty girl ready to spread their legs, but you seem pretty innocent.
"Let me introduce you two," Geto says, standing up from his desk and walking in front of you.
"This is Satoru, Satoru this is y/n. We will be interviewing her today."
The mysterious white haired guy eyes you from head to toe, making you blush. You know exactly who he is, you've seen those porn videos, and you've seen that dick.
"Could you undress for us?" Geto asks as he reaches behind him to grab his camera. Gojo's eyes are still on you, and he takes in every inch of your body as you take off every garment. The last piece of clothing falls on the floor, and you stand naked in front of them.
"Is everything alright?" you ask them, your voice shaking. Suguru reaches his hand out, grabbing your boob to rub your nipple.
"Yeah, everything's fine. you are just so tiny." Geto's words should hurt you, but you feel so turned on right now, you don't care.
"Let's start with the interview," Satoru says, rubbing your shoulder, "Kiss me."
You blush, but you kiss him on the mouth. His tongue slips into your mouth right away, his hand creeping to grab your ass.
Geto focuses on the two of you while he massages your other cheek.
"Look at that tiny cunnie." geto coos at you, swiping his hand between your legs. He rubs at your slit, his thumb circling your clit. It's a simple touch, but it makes you moan out loud, which makes the men shoot a lot between each other.
"You're so responsive, that's good," Gojo says, rubbing from your arms down to your butt. He carefully examines every part of your body.
"Can you lie on the couch?" he asks, guiding you to the leather couch in the corner. You sit down on it, looking around the room. Gojo sits down next to you, throwing his hand around your shoulders and rubbing them. Geto stands in front of the both of you, the camera still on.
"Can you open your legs for us?" the question is so dirty, but Gojo's expression is welcoming. You shuffle so that your back is against the back of the couch, opening your legs.
"Oh fuck yes." Geto groans, getting on his knee to get a better look at your opening.
"Did you plan on eating her out?" Gojo asks Suguru, but he shakes his head. A normal interview consists of fucking and sucking cock, you've never seen someone get eaten out. Gojo smirks, "Well, I have to taste her."
Gojo's tongue dives right into your folds. He teases your clit with his fingers, tongue-swiping your juices. You hear Suguru sigh, "Satoru, this wasn't scheduled." But he doesn't stop him from pleasuring you. He gets next to you, pulling his pants down his legs. Your face bumps right into his hard-on, and he rubs it on your face.
"Open mouth." Geto says, sliding his cock right into your warm mouth. He lets you pleasure him at your pace, but it's hard with Gojo eating you out like a master.
"How am I supposed to know if she's good?" Geto whines, thrusting into your mouth. Your throat closes around his cock, and you choke due to his length. Meanwhile, Gojo pushes one of his fingers inside you, the other teasing your rim. You never had someone play with both of your holes at the same time, and it sure is overwhelming. With each swipe of Gojo's tongue and thrust of Geto's cock, you feel yourself nearing your orgasm.
"Are you gonna cum, sweetheart?" Gojo smirks when your hips stutter to meet his tongue. Geto is close to releasing too, even though your technique isn't the best, he adores how beautiful you look with his cock in your mouth. A wave of pleasure hits you, and you cum, hips rising and falling because of the stimulation. Geto follows shortly after, painting your face with his cum. Gojo smiles at the scene before him, scooping the cum on his finger to put it inside his mouth.
"I'm sorry, y/n," Geto says, looking sad, "We can't hire someone like you."
From the corner of your eye, you can see Gojo's eyes go wide with disbelief.
"I'm not hiring you, but come to our apartment tomorrow afternoon. We'll see what we can do with you in private."
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taglist: @mcharris747 @huuuuut30 @krispsprite @bejewelledd @cawwn @veryninjanacho @jamayah @dngerwayz @nwptune @universlypiratecolor @ffakegucci @merachannie @d1lf-luvr @th3girln3xtdoor @nobody289x @iheartpieck @gia999 @kawasgirl @st4rrlighttt @candyeyeroll @7haze @banchangsbbbg @nigthmar3moon @softlilpeachxx @d1gitalbathh @jaenniii @armahnsie @satorustar @balenciagarette @erp1007
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claypgeons · 8 days
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the party era | oscar piastri
pairing: oscar piastri x female driver!reader
summary: you used to be a party girl, you’re now much more content staying in and watching movies with your boyfriend instead.
authors note: my AP world history test is tomorrow!! wish me luck 😞 (i haven’t studied, im going to fail)
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liked by 637,937 others
f1wagsgossip: thoughts ? 😂
view comments below!
user1: is this a safe space to say i do too 😖
user2: she’s gotten so boring now that’s she’s with oscar 😞
user3: y/n isn’t a wag ???? she’s a driver, whys she on this page 😭
user4: as a y/n fan during this era, NO! i do not miss this
user5: why ?
user4: this was a horrible time for y/n and her fans, she was constantly being called slurs, a whore, slut, etc :( i was ALWAYS on the front lines defending my girl !!
user6: y’all saying oscar made her boring rubs me the wrong way…
user7: RIGHT
user8: me too
user9: honestly i agree
user10: i miss party y/n
user11: what i would do to be a fan during the party era
user11: i’m in my party era right now
user12: are we all forgetting how y/n has said multiple times that this was probably the hardest days of her life?? and how she wishes this never happened ???
user13: she was literally out partying all day 😭 how was that hard
user12: i can tell youre all new fans 😭 this whole “era” happened after she had gotten out of toxic relationship of 6 YEARS she was extremely depressed AND she had said that the only reason she went out so much was because she felt unsafe in her house
user14: you all saying oscar made y/n boring are forgetting that she, and i QUOTE, has said “oscar literally saved my life, and i know that sounds so cheesy, but he truly makes more happy than i could ever put in words”
user15: yall say this, but if she did party like she did back in the day, y’all would be calling her an alcoholic 💀
user16: not too much on oscar now…
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bigfanofyn: 2022-2023 y/n was the best !! rip y/ns party era 😞
view comments below !
user17: oh that’s not…
user18: this is weird !
user19: ME TOO, BRING BACK PARTY Y/N!!
user20: NOO DONT. DO NOT BRING BACK PARTY Y/N
user21: can’t y’all let this girl be peaceful ?? 😭
user22: are y’all forgetting how they tried to get y/n kicked out of f1 because of this ??
user23: WHATTT
user22: YEAH fans literally made a petition to get y/n kicked out of f1 because she was “out of control” it only got like 500 votes THO 😭😭
user23: y/n has said that she is no longer friends with this people in the picture and that we should stop giving them attention…
user24: why ?
user23: they would always purposely got her drunk, and made her feel guilty when she suggested they do something else instead of drink, they would then take photos of her when she was passed out drunk AND SELL THEM TO GOSSIP PAGES ??
user25: don’t forget that they LET SOME STRANGE MAN ALMOST TAKE HER GOD KNOWS WHERE WHILE SHE WAS BLACKOUT DRUNK ?? the only reason he wasn’t able too was because of a STRANGER who intervened
user26: free y/n from oscar 🗣️
user27: this and y’all in the comments ARE WEIRD
user28: …
user29: this isn’t good! hope this helps ❤️
— y/n has posted new pictures!
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liked by, mclaren, oscarpiastri, landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 726,028 others !
yourusername: i have no idea why this is trending BUT… party era y/n was NOT fun or quirky. she was depressed, anxious, and always scared, she pushed away all the people she loved. NOW, “boring” y/n has never been happier. she stays at home with her boyfriend and has movie marathons. it’s better for her this way.
view comments below !
user30: we love boring y/n
user31: why are people acting like you don’t go out anymore ?? 😭 you were at landos celebration party like a week ago ??
*liked by yourusername*
mclaren: boring y/n is a happy y/n 🧡
yourusername: boring y/n is a happy PR team **
mclaren: that too 🧡
landonorris: a boring y/n is a happy lando
user32: the fact that the only reason y/n got help was because lando told her too is just so 💔💔
user33: she knew that when LANDO tells you that you need to stop. YOU NEED TO STOP.
user34: no because LANDO telling her to stop partying ?? is crazy 😭
user35: REAL FANS LIKE ANY TYPE OF Y/N
user36: y’all got this girl so mad she’s talking in third person 😐
— oscar piastri had posted new photos !
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liked by, mclaren, yourusername, landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 826,028 others !
oscarpiastri: party girl or not. i will always love you.
view comments below!
user37: oh to have a movie night with y/n l/n…
user38: the man y/n DESERVES
user39: can’t people just understand that some people truly go through rough patches which makes them do out of the ordinary things ??
user40: RIGHTTT, because if y/n was a true ‘party’ girl like they claim. SHE WOULD STILL BE PARTYING. she had said multiple times. that ‘era’ wasn’t HER. it was a ROUGH PATCH
user41: get you a man that loves you as much as oscar loves y/n
maxverstappen1: tell y/n to play pool on imessage with me.
oscarpiastri: she said she’ll play when you stop cheating
maxverstappen1: I DONT CHEAT
yourusername: I KNOW DANIEL IS PLAYING FOR YOU.
charles_leclerc: you said you would invite me to the next movie night 😞
oscarpiastri: this is an old picture charles, don’t worry, you’re still on the invite list 😁
2K notes · View notes
oscah81 · 5 days
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all because i liked a boy - cl16
charles leclerc x fem!reader smau
summary the hate ends up being too much for charles' new girlfriend
fc pinterest girls, sabrina carpenter
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yourusername
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liked by charlesleclerc, friend1 and 234.300 others
yourusername you make my heart beat fast, ferrari ❤
view all 240 comments
charlesleclerc ❤
→ yourusername mwah 🫶
friend1 the prettiest girl !!
→ yourusername says u 🥹🫶
user am I the only one who doesn't like her..??
→ user1 no fr... charles deserves so much better
user2 shes honestly an ick 🤢
yourusername
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liked by charlesleclerc, friend1, taylorswift and 310.232 others
yourusername im working late cuz im a singer 😴
view all 356 comments
charlesleclerc ma cherie 💝
→ yourusername my pretty boy!!
friend1 stunning.
→ yourusername i miss u mamas ❤‍🩹
user4 I don't rlly think shes his type tbh
→ user5 thank god I'm not the only one 😭
user6 smells like pr relationship!!!
→ user7 bro stfu!!! let them live
charlesleclerc
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liked by yourusername, scuderiaferrari, friend1 and 435.560 others
charlesleclerc light of my life 🫀
view all 777 comments
yourusername CHA 😭
→ user8 he didn't even reply ijbolllll
yourusername you are my everything ❤‍🩹
→ charlesleclerc ❤
user9 I still don't like her...
user10 OH SHE ATEEE
→ user12 IKR idk why everyone hating
user11 ew ickie nasty
→ user13 leave her alone already 😭
user14 she should just delete her acc at this point
user15 i gagged....
yourusername
via instagram story
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[captions: much needed break]
f1wags
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liked by user11 and 10.234 others
f1wags Is there a breakup in the Ferrari garage? rumor has it Charles Leclerc and his girlfriend of 8 months, Y/n L/n, have broken up, as she has posted vacation pictures despite it being race weekend...
view all 23 comments
user11 FINALLY
user14 charles deserves better!!!
user13 y'all just leave her alone...
→ user10 no really tho, like she just dated a guy and everybody got pissy over it..
→ user12 i hope shes okay 😭
yourusername
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liked by charlesleclerc, friend1, taylorswift and 1.230.670 others
yourusername because I liked a boy out now!! thank you for all the support, my loves ❤‍🩹
view all 1203 comments
charlesleclerc great song ❤
→ user10 they way he's still down bad 😭
→ user14 date me instead!!
→ user10 girl you're delulu
taylorswift on repeat 🫶
→ yourusername oh!! my!! god!! i love you
→ user13 ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE
friend1 YOU ARE AMAZING
→ yourusername NO U ML ❤
user11 i take back what I said this song slaps
user15 "I got death threats filling up semi trucks" 😭
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an: this is my first smau!! it took wayyyy longer than expected lmao
i may do a pt. 2 ❤
1K notes · View notes
5sospenguinqueen · 20 days
Text
Bedtime Stories | Daniel Ricciardo x Author! Reader
Summary: For the past six years, you've been dreaming of a future with Daniel. Until one silly little interview shatters every illusion.
Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Baby fever. End of a relationship. Daniel bashing.
Female reader with various faceclaims. Takes place in the 2022 season.
Main Masterlist
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User 2 no, it's not an announcement. her best friend is currently pregnant and she was gushing about looking forward to aunty duties
User 3 omg her and daniel would make the cutest babies though
→ User 4 i bet she can't wait until they have their own mini-me
User 5 imagine our rom-com queen going from writing the cutest but filthiest fiction imaginable to writing about why you should eat your carrots
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22•05•22
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User 6 i can't believe this man was talking about being in the height of his career when he's been nothing but a flop since leaving red bull
User 7 the way he's been stringing this poor woman along for 6 years, knowing how badly she wants children, to then decide in a random interview that he's never going to have kids because they would be a 'distraction'
User 8 fans spotted y/n running from the pits once she saw that daniel was safely done with racing
User 9 i fear we may be witnessing the downfall of something we once held sacred
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16•06•22
fallontonight just posted
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liked by YourUserName, kellypiquet and others
fallontonight did you know @ YourUser Name was once chased by a kangaroo? find out how in tonight's episode of The Tonight Show 📚🦘
4,477 comments
YourUserName thanks for having me! ✨
User 11 excuse me, ma’am, reassess what
User 12 daniel has been absent from her last 3 posts
→ User 1 not even in the likes or comments
→ User 2 and he didn't even congratulate her on the recent book launch
→ User 3 ya’ll are reaching. he's busy racing. she's busy doing book promo. they still follow each other
User 4 anyone notice she didn't look as happy as she usually does
→ User 5 yes! and i swear she got teary when talking about her life plans 🥺
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YourUserName just posted
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liked by maxverstappen1, mclaren and others
YourUserName my happy place 🌊🐚🦀 Aug '22
4,990 comments
User 6 does this mean a new book is coming soon
→ User 7 girl, we’ve just had one. let the woman rest
→ YourUserName sorry, my lovelies but i don’t think i'm in the right headspace to being right a romance novel at this time
→ User 6 confirmation??!?!
→ User 7 we’re children of divorce
→ User 8 honestly fuck those two because i couldn’t have cared less about vroom vroom boys until mother started dating one and now i'm crying in class ‘cause they’re over
landonorris get that bread, queen 🍞
→ YourUserName who let you out of daycare
→ User 9 not y/n and lando interacting like she didn’t break his teammates heart
→ User 10 more like his teammate broke y/n’s heart. let's not make daniel out to be the victim here
kellypiquet p said get writing those children’s books so she can brag about aunty y/n to her friends
→ YourUserName my sweet girl. i saw the cutest dress the other day for her so I’ll pop round soon x
→ User 11 i love their friendship
→ User 12 get this woman a child. She’s too sweet to be stuck in cool aunt mode forever
User 13 anyone notice she didn't do her annual birthday post for daniel?
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04•09•22
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User 14 no because the interviewer was so real for that. checo has a few children and he’s currently 2nd best. max is nowhere to be seen on the grid he's that far ahead and he makes sure p is his priority when she’s there so???
→ User 15 and the way he stormed out. i bet PR are sooo happy with him
User 16 nah because mclaren recently announced that they’re not extending his contract so he currently doesn't have his seat and doesn't have his y/n, all because he thought he was better than that
YourUserName posted a new story
danielricciardo posted a new story
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danielricciardo just posted
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liked by landonorris, estebanocon and others
danielricciardo yesterday was something. p17 wasn't the result we were expecting, and the media were a challenge but it's always a delight to be in Suzuka. Moving on to the Americas
5,509 comments
User 1 maybe if y/n was there, you wouldn't have done so badly
User 2 maybe if he had a baby waiting in the paddock he would’ve had more incentive to do better
mclaren we’ll get them next time 💪
User 3 letting mclaren and lando down
→ User 4 the real reason he and y/n broke up is because he has no wins. she should move onto lando or something
→ User 5 he’s way too young for her
→ User 4 they'd make a good looking couple tho
(comments have been disabled for this post)
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19•10•22
YourUserName just posted
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liked by charles_leclerc, bloomsburypublishing and others
YourUserName thirty, flirty and thriving. please enjoy a small snippet of my 30th birthday, organised by my favourite girl. these are the nice moments before she plies me full of cocktails and i become the sloppiest person in monaco tagged: kellypiquet
kellypiquet any chance to celebrate you 🤍🤍
→ kellypiquet and an even better chance to drink the entire bar and force max to carry us home
→ maxverstappen1 i'm just glad i was able to pull you both out of the sea before you drowned
landonorris can't believe you tried (and failed) to stop us from gatecrashing
→ YourUserName it was an exclusive event, we don't let randos in
→ landonorris i know you're joking but it still hurts my feelings
maxverstappen1 happy birthday, sloppy. you don't look a day over 40
→ YourUserName i'm gonna let that slide but only because i love the bag that kelly told you to buy
User 7 happy birthday to the best author
User 8 happy birthday queen
carlossainz55 happy birthday, y/n 💐
liked by YourUserName
danielricciardo happy birthday x
User 5 kelly and y/n look like the funnest people to hang out with
→ User 6 literally need to know how to become part of their duo
lewishamilton happy birthday, y/n. have a lovely night 💕
liked by YourUserName
mclaren happy birthday to papaya's favourite author (we're still waiting for a racing rom-com that is quite clearly about your favourite f1 team and their super sexy admin) 🥳🥳
liked by YourUserName
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This is going to be part of a Baby Fever Angst series with the other drivers. So, multiple drivers are going to have an smau like this.
Max’s Version | Lando’s Version
I do have Part 2s planned if people want them but also happy to leave it like this :)
2K notes · View notes
drewbydrewbydrew · 1 year
Text
Love be8ng drubk n not havin my boyfriend 2 anoy causr im just here try ti have fun in my room and hes in another town and im here on tumblr just tryin to look at things but i xant read cause ima bottle of wine and a quarter boytle of soju deep
0 notes
astonmartinii · 9 months
Text
into the arms of another part three | max verstappen social media au
pairing: max verstappen x reader
part one part two masterlist tips
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yourusername
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liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 707,890 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername: working up a storm and flirting up a frenzy
view all comments
user3: SHE'S BACK
user4: that month she was gone was dragging
user5: i almost forget she has a job lol there's always so much drama i forgot girly was getting the bag
danielricciardo: oh what a lovely picture of you two being gross at dinner i wonder who took it
yourusername: it's this lovely gentleman, i'll have to introduce you. he's quite loud, very charming and should consider going into theatre with his vocal projection
danielricciardo: you think i'm ready for the stage?
maxverstappen1: i think we all think you're ready for the stage
user6: wait so do you think daniel, heidi, y/n and max go on double dates? that's so cute
user7: sometimes i hurt myself by thinking it could've been a triple date if charles wasn't such as ass
maxverstappen1: when she's a triple threat 😍
yourusername: but i can't sing, dance or act?
maxverstappen1: but you are smart, beautiful and can put up with me :)
yourusername: you act like being with you is a chore maxy :( i'd spend all my waking moments with you if i could
landonorris: i'm sending these ^^ comments to my therapist, you guys make me feel so lonely
maxverstappen1: sorry dude
yourusername: lando !! let us play matchmaker ??
landonorris: i'll let you play matchmaker just don't let max have too much input
maxverstappen1: why not i clearly have good taste?
user8: anyone else wondering whether y/n and charles actually spoke after he was seen outside her building?
user9: i was thinking about that too ... i'm guessing they either didn't or it didn't go well by the fact that he's no where to be seen here
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maxverstappen1
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liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 1,203,500 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: new weekend, new helmet. this one was designed by the love of my life who put her architecture degree to good use to make me this beautiful lid. love you y/n hope to bring you a trophy back in return 🧡
view all comments
user13: max being the resident grid sweetheart was not on my 2023 bingo card
yourusername: no worries max, it was an absolute honour to design a helmet for you.
maxverstappen1: it's an honour to wear something designed by you
yourusername: call me the adrian newey of helmet design
maxverstappen1: that's a big shout, that i'm inclined to believe
redbullracing: adrian gives his stamp of approval y/n !
user14: i swear in an older charles vlog y/n spoke about how she always wanted to design a helmet for him :( i'm glad she finally got to do it
user15: no shade but at least this helmet might actually win the race lol
danielricciardo: cute lid, is y/n open for commission?
maxverstappen1: nope she's mine and mine only (unless you're paying)
yourusername: what he said
user16: i just know charles is screaming, crying and throwing up rn
user17: probably not, people stop being friends all the time, he's got more than one friend and is a millionaire, he's living his best life
user16: his track record says otherwise, he's extremely petty, he probably can't handle that max and y/n don't care about him anymore
user18: tbf from what we saw charles was looking to reconcile, it's more y/n who has been unreasonable
user19: i think she's well within her rights to refuse forgiveness and from reports charles never apologised, this has been a pattern of behaviour for years now. she deserved better, she's now got better
liked by maxverstappen1
user20: i love that max likes all the shady comments about the situation cause i know y/n would never
charles_leclerc
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liked by arthurleclerc, carlossainz55 and 908,344 others
charles_leclerc: always make time for your real friends.
view all comments
user21: if there's one thing men will have, it's the audacity
user22: well this is an interesting response
user23: are we meant to clap?
arthurleclerc: what happened to the plan?
charles_leclerc: than plan failed in the minute she closed the door in my face
arthurleclerc: call me, but also stop making excuses
user24: yes it is logical to do this offline arthur, but consider this, i want to read the drama
user25: but at this point how is it drama? it's just charles being stubborn. y/n gave him a full explanation and by the look of it he didn't do a very good job with it
user26: the thing is i honestly believe that however bad the apology would be y/n would still forgive him. they've been friends for so long i think she honestly wants it to work out but shit like this does not help his case
carlossainz55: mate i am so confused
charles_leclerc: what's so confusing? she can say that this has led to her finding "the real thing" but i can't?
carlossainz55: but if you wanted to reconcile, you look like an asshole
charles_leclerc: fine, make me the bad guy like everyone else
user27: charles is really in his whiny boy era lord
user28: all i know is that y/n and max are probably at home having the laugh of their lives
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f1wagsupdates
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liked by 3,095 others
tagged: yourusername
f1wagupdates: y/n y/ln was in the red bull garage this weekend with verstappen's family. max won this race wearing the helmet she designed for him.
view all comments
user31: they are the cutest couple on the grid, perhaps of all time
user32: they're defo on the way to that, if they get married could defo grab best couple of all time
user33: the way she still stopped at ferrari to talk to arthur and wish him and charles luck ... clearly there's a bigger person here
user34: y/n is already so close to the verstappens, her and sophie and victoria were together all weekend.
user35: my friend had a paddock pass and overheard sophie asking y/n when she'll be giving her more grandkids
user36: OMG WHAT? what did y/n say?
user35: that she'd have to be mrs. verstappen first
user37: do not play with me right now if we get the charles and y/n friend breakup and y/n and max engagement all in one season my brain may explode
user38: if max weren't winning every race anyway i'd defo say that this is the lucky helmet
user39: i mean grand slams aren't that common, so maybe it is
user40: max win and charles disasterclass, the best weekend possible for y/n
user41: i don't think she actually wants charles to do badly though, she wouldn't have wished him luck..
maxverstappen1
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liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 1,405,649 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: i've won a lot of races this year but my biggest win of all was your heart. here's to forever together ❤️
view all comments
user42: i think i just saw charles drop to his knees in monaco
user43: i mean they can still be friends? there was never any romantic feelings he's just being weird about being in the wrong and it being max
danielricciardo: i'm so so happy for you guys, you deserve this so much. all the happiness to you, i shall assume my position as best man effective immediately
maxverstappen1: bit forward to assume that you're best man mate
danielricciardo: wait, i'm not best man ?
maxverstappen1: i joke, you are, of course, the best man and i can't think of a better man for the job
yourusername: just don't go too crazy with the stag night, i've heard about your nights out back in the day (seen the videos too)
danielricciardo: i don't know what you're talking about, we'll have a boys night in, a round of uno and he'll be ready at the altar right on time
user44: why am i actually so happy for people i don't even know
yourusername: i can't think of a better way to spend the rest of my life, red bull drive babysitter and cat mama
maxverstappen1: i think jimmy and sassy might just be as excited as me (maybe)
yourusername: i know i can tell by all the holes in my shoes
maxverstappen1: we all have our ways of showing love, some bites holes in shoes, some like to follow you everywhere
landonorris: the way max could be either one
maxverstappen1: ummm i'm trying to be romantic stop accusing me of biting my fiancee's shoes
yourusername: don't worry maxy, i'd still marry you even if you bite my shoes
user45: this is an amazing thing and not to bring the mood down, but do we think y/n will invite charles to the wedding?
user46: max could as well, they are friends, even if charles is trying to use their rivalry as a 'reason' to be angry at this relationship
yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 1,206,782 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername: i am lost for words. i never knew i could love someone as much as i love you, and it is my biggest honour to spend the rest of my life with you.
view all comments
user47: she has really won at life i'm so happy for her
user48: who knew being ditched in corsica would be so good for a girl
liked by yourusername
maxverstappen1: i love you more than you could ever know, couldn't think of a better mrs. verstappen-y/ln
yourusername: i can't wait to have matching last names
user49: wait is max also going to take y/n's name?
maxverstappen1: yep and couldn't be prouder to have her name
yourusername: awww maxy i love you
user50: so... did charles get an invite?
charles_leclerc: no. so much for moving forward.
yourusername: i won't let you ruin this announcement for me. let the postal service do their job. please get your shit together before you rsvp or fuck off, i have no problem burning that invite.
user51: oof.
landonorris: congrats guys, do me and daniel get a prize for listening to the years of pining that led to this
yourusername: you can get a gold star?
landonorris: make it solid gold and done.
yourusername: girl.
maxverstappen1: if red bull ask whether we drank on this getaway say no
yourusername: we defo didn't spray champagne like we were on a podium and then eat our weight in pasta
maxverstappen1: i had to celebrate my girl :)
note: hiiiii, i know this was highly, highly requested and i hope this has met expectations. i've had real bad writers block and some shit going on in my personal life, so i'm not the happiest with this but could see another part if i get enough ideas lol. thanks for reading <3
4K notes · View notes
draconic-desire · 1 month
Note
Gosh i just loved your Sunday fic.. 😫
Im wondering what about a naive type darling? With so much isolation, it has made darling insecure. Darling thinks Sunday deserves a better woman and just ups and leaves Sunday when he isnt home. But ofc is soon found not long after 😋
ohhhh so personally i imagine this happening after sunday uses the harmony one too many times on poor reader…you never saw it coming, never would have thought sunday would hurt you despite being isolated for so long. any thoughts you had about escaping, even going outside to see friends, are obliterated. sunday becomes your whole world.
Yan!Sunday x Naive!Gn!Reader
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You’ve been standing in front of Sunday’s door, fist raised and poised to knock, for twenty minutes now.
For what feels like the millionth time, you lower your hand, worrying your lip.
He’s been in there all day. Sunday is a busy man, his schedule constantly filled with meetings and Family affairs, but never too occupied that he would ignore you for an entire day.
Your mind fears the worst; even those initial days of being drowned in the Harmony, before you realized Sunday was trying to help you adjust to your life with him, is preferable to this. Did you do something wrong? Who is he in there with? Is he ignoring you?
Has he…grown tired of you?
The mere thought chills your heart and fills your veins with ice as you take a step back, inhaling sharply.
The wooden door before you is polished to a fault, bright enough that you can see your faint outline. It bitterly reminds you of how inferior you are compared to him, a mere speck of dust, a fleeting shadow on the wall.
You start to spiral. Surely Sunday, the most handsome and sought after man in Penacony, could have his pick of anyone—so why would he settle on you? Why did he bring you here, trap you in this mansion, keep you by his side, if only to throw you away in the end?
Did he never love you?
Why does that thought hurt you so much?
Heart pounding and tears blurring your vision, you quickly turn and flee, your knock forgotten.
~*~
It has long grown dark on the streets of the Golden Hour.
The normally bustling city is slumbering, the only light provided by the plethora of flashing billboards that never sleep. The few individuals you have passed are either drunks stumbling home or the stray Intellitron. You’ve been walking aimlessly for hours, wiping away tears and fruitlessly searching for a way to escape to reality.
After all your time mulling in your sadness and insecurities, you have come to the conclusion that you should relieve Sunday of his care of you. He’s much better off without you, or rather with a better individual than you. He should be dating royalty, a celebrity, an angel. The type of person who would have knocked on that door, would have strutted confidently into his office and sat directly into his lap to—
Another pair of footsteps echo behind you.
You almost don’t hear them at first, but you most definitely see the haloed shadow on the wall in front of you.
“And where do you think you’re going, (Y/n)?”
You immediately freeze, your breathing becoming erratic and shallow. His voice sends little butterflies pounding against your chest, begging to fly to him.
“Do you really think this pathetic attempt to escape would succeed?” A hand wraps around your waist, spinning you around to meet golden eyes rimmed in violet. You expect them to be filled with anger, perhaps even loathing, but you’re shocked to discover they are brimming with nothing but thinly veiled panic.
His grip tightens when you don’t respond immediately. “Answer me, (Y/n).” His voice cracks as he says your name again. “Where have you been?”
Words clog in your throat. “I—I thought—you were—you didn’t want—”
“I’ve been searching everywhere for you. You weren’t thinking. I believed we had moved beyond your futile attempts to leave, that you understood that you are mine—”
“But what if I don’t deserve to be yours!”
The two of you freeze in the wake of your outburst. His breath hitches as you lower your head and whisper softly, “I thought you stopped loving me the same as I love you.”
For once, you’ve caught Sunday off guard. His beautiful gaze widens in shock as he truly takes in your form—shivering, tears rolling down your cheeks, nails digging into your palms—and realizes his mistake.
You left because you thought he didn’t want you.
The mere idea baffles him. Standing before him is the most beautiful individual he has ever seen. Every fiber of his being screams for him to lock you in a birdcage and throw away the key—you are a precious treasure, meant to sing only for him. He has created you to be the perfect devotee in his very image.
And all of his efforts have succeeded, because you said you loved him.
His anger and fear immediately melt into softness as he holds your face between both hands, his forehead lowered to press against yours. “Oh, darling, no. You cannot fathom the adoration I harbor for you, the multitude of praises I wish to preach each day in your name.”
His voice takes on a nearly holy reverence, but his eyes shine with an untamed desire. “There is nowhere you belong except for by my side. Finding you missing this evening nearly tore my heart out. You must never venture out again, do you understand, my precious dove?”
You sniff and lean into his touch, a smile parting the river of your tears. Yes, that’s right. That’s what the Harmony said before, too: your purpose is to please Sunday, to serve Sunday, to live for Sunday.
Why would you ever doubt his love?
Why would you ever want to leave him? What a silly idea.
You think you feel a tiny pull at the back of your mind, a hook that wants to tether you to reality. But a quick slash of a knife severs the line, leaving you floating in a sea of multicolored bliss.
“I’ll never doubt you again, Sunday. I love you.”
Sunday’s lips curl into a smirk as he lifts your chin and examines the rainbows dancing in your eyes. “I love you, too, (Y/n).”
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