#sorry! but thank you for sending in an ask!

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

Hello!!! I have a request if that’s okay with you. 💕

Would you maybe write a Spencer x quiet!reader? Where she doesn’t have the courage to talk to him because she’s too shy?

I don’t really have a plot in mind so that’s up to you!! I’m sorry I couldn’t come up with any ideas but hopefully it lets you write whatever you want. Thank you for taking the time to read this. And I read your other stories, you’re so underrated and amazing I love your wording when you write. 🥹🫶🏻🫶🏻

Hi Mary!! Thank you so much for your kind words c:

I did my best c: I hope you like it!

Round Table (Spencer Reid x shy!gn!reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x shy!gn!reader (if not gn please let me know, but I'm fairly certain it is!)

Word Count: 1538

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, but besides that none?

A/N: this was so fun c: i am really enjoying challenging myself with your guys' requests. hope you enjoy!!

------

You were an incredibly anxious person, which, honestly, was okay. You tried not to let your anxiety hinder your life too much, but like any other human being, sometimes it got in the way. It was frustrating, sure, knowing that a situation would be so much easier if you weren’t so anxious about it, but you reminded yourself often that you weren’t perfect, and neither was anyone else. 

Some people were afraid of heights, of the ocean, of needles. Some people had trouble going out into crowds or grew overstimulated in public places. 

You? You were painfully shy. There was always an adjustment period to being around new people.

Baristas, the bus driver, pharmacy techs, cashiers at the grocery store - you did just fine. But those were one-time interactions, brief discussions that you could compartmentalize. 

They came with a script to follow, with cue cards already queued up in your head as they occurred. You could put on an emotional mask for five minutes while the nurse at the clinic gave you a flu shot. You could smile and speak in your special voice labeled Getting Coffee, an octave higher than you usually spoke, in order to acquire your much-needed beverage. There was a clear goal in mind with each of these dialogues. Sure, you didn’t present as the most confident person in the world, but you always made it through conversations like these without stumbling over your words or being too terribly awkward.  

You didn’t succeed as much with deeper connections, with ones that took time to cultivate. You were a guarded person to begin with, with only a handful of people you felt truly close to. Vulnerability had always been difficult for you, but you supposed you were in the majority on that front. It took a while to become comfortable around coworkers, extended family, hell, even your therapist. You had to have time to adjust, to settle in. 

A lot of people in your life thought you were just socially awkward or even an agoraphobe, but you didn’t mind being around people. It was the intimacy, the connection, the having to give away little pieces of yourself, that made you anxious. It kept you from participating in conversations most of the time, usually only speaking unless spoken to. 

You liked your job as a linguistics and handwriting analyst in the FBI for that very reason. You didn’t have to say much  to people unless it was related to a case. With a clear goal in mind, a threat to neutralize, you could turn on that mechanical part of your brain that spouted off facts, information, theories. You didn’t have to tell anyone about your weekend, about your hopes and dreams or your favorite foods. 

You were consulting on a case for the Behavioral Analysis Unit - a serial killer who stalked his victims months before their murders, sending handwritten letters and using poetry to taunt them. Your supervisor had asked you to collaborate with the BAU, sending you to the sixth floor on your own. 

For the last two days, you’d been working closely with Dr. Spencer Reid - Spencer, he insisted you call him. Just a couple of years older than you, but still very young for his role in the FBI. He was friendly,  and very smart, and he rambled on about all kinds of things - 

Everything, actually. The Chinese food you’d had for lunch on the first day? He explained the origin of fortune cookies. Did you know their first appearance in the US was in San Francisco in the late 1800s? 

Pointing out a Dickinson line in one of the UnSub’s letters? Did you know only ten of Emily Dickinson’s poems were actually published when she was alive and the rest were posthumous? 

You often just nodded along and smiled, occasionally throwing in an oh, that’s very interesting to appear as an active listener. And you were an active listener. You did genuinely think he was interesting, and you found his info dumps to be incredibly endearing. But your contributions to the conversation were abysmal in comparison.

Beyond discussing patterns in the UnSub’s letters and what it might mean for each victim, you had no other fascinating information to share. You didn’t do well with small talk, and Spencer didn’t ask you any overtly personal questions. 

It wasn’t until close to the end of the second day spent in the conference room of the BAU’s office that Spencer asked you a direct question about yourself. 

There were three evidence boards set up, all full of scanned copies of the letters, each one pinned up meticulously by you and Spencer the day before. The large round table in the room had letters stacked out all around it, each one bagged in protective plastic. 

Spencer was standing in front of the evidence boards with his arms crossed over his chest, studying the photocopies with his head inclined to the side. 

He broke the silence you had been slowly settling into the past two days. “Your supervisor said you had a specialization in poetry?” 

You nodded, stepping over to the table and carefully lifting one of the letters up. You liked how he spoke as if you two were in the middle of a conversation, when in fact, it had been totally silent for the past half an hour, save for the soft puttering of the air conditioning vent.

“Studied a lot in undergrad,” you squeaked out, clearing your throat as you held the letter up the fluorescent light above you to examine the stationary. 

“What university did you attend?” Spencer asked, and you turned your head to find him inclining his head to the side. He actually wanted to know? 

“I went to Bennington College to study poetry,” you said softly, suddenly finding it difficult to focus on the letter in your hand. “But I went to graduate school at Georgetown. Master’s in Linguistics.” 

“Really? That’s fascinating,” Spencer commented, which caught you by surprise, especially because he didn’t sound the least bit sarcastic. “That combination of degrees is exceedingly rare. Generally people who major in poetry often either go on to complete as far up as a doctorate in the subject or  they stop at a Bachelor’s degree. The latter statistically don’t end up working in a field related to poetry, either, so their degree is basically useless.” 

You weren’t sure if you were supposed to be offended by that, so instead you just nodded your head politely. “Okay,” you murmured, biting your lip. 

“Can I ask you another question?” Spencer asked, and set the letter in your hand down on the table. You smoothed your hands over the fabric of your shirt and nodded. “Do I… do I make you uncomfortable?” 

You shook your head. “No,” you said assuredly, and then, a little more hesitantly, “…why would you ask me that?” 

Spencer turned to face you. “You’re just very quiet unless we’re discussing the case. Which is fine, of course, but I just… I don’t know. I thought maybe you were annoyed by me or I said something to offend you.” 

You felt guilt spread over you and your cheeks turned pink. The last thing you’d wanted was to make anyone feel bad who didn’t deserve it. And the very kind, helpful, and adorable Dr. Spencer Reid was the furthest from deserving to feel bad. 

 “I just don’t talk a lot,” you tried to explain. Your hand rubbed the spot where the top of your chest met the skin of your neck, an anxious habit you’d had for years. “I mean, I do with people I know, and that’s not to say I dominate the conversation by any means, but I just…” you realized you were rambling. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” you added, your voice just above a whisper. 

“Thank you,” Spencer’s lips flickered into a straight-lined smile, one you had seen several times over the past few days, often when unintentional eye contact was made across the table. “For clarifying, I mean, that I didn’t offend you.” He cleared his throat, and leaned against the round table, standing just a few feet from you. Still a very professional and comfortable distance, but closer than he had been before. “So, does that mean that if we got to know each other, you’d talk more?” The corners of his lips spread out and his smile grew. 

You tore your eyes away from his to look at the letter in your hand, the protective plastic around it crinkling between your fingers. You weren’t actually looking at the letter, though. You’d just needed somewhere - anywhere - else to look. “That’s generally how it goes,” you murmured, biting your lip. 

“So, if I were to, for example, ask you to meet me for dinner sometime, could the getting to know each other happen there?” 

Your eyes fluttered over to Spencer’s and you saw him smiling. You could tell by how he looked at you, with his head inclined just slightly to the side, that he was being fully serious. You nodded, unable to control the small smile on your face. 

Spencer grinned, and you could tell he couldn’t resist when he spoke again. “So, is that a yes?” 

#spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #basketonthedoorstepofthefbi #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x gn reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x self insert

[onlyhuis]

drenched

member — junhui x f reader  genre — smut word count — 2.4k  synopsis — the pool isn't the only thing that gets jun all wet. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, oral (reader receiving), squirting, body worship, pussy drunk jun, mentioned that reader wears a bikini (+ other clothes), they're so horny for each other it's actually just gross notes — requested by anon for my 🐈 1k event — thanks to @onlymingyus for looking over this for me <3 sorry the synopsis is boring asdhgsj i couldnt think of a cooler one. also very very sorry again that it's taken me so long to get to these old requests but i hope you enjoy! please be sure to reblog with comments or send an ask if you liked this :)

if there's only one thing in this world that jun is obsessed with, it's your pussy.

practically every night he comes home, throwing his bag on the chair and pulling you onto the couch, begging you to let him eat you out, just really quick before dinner, please? i'll make you cum so fast, promise, just let me have ten minutes with you.

most of the time he slides your pants down and finds you already wet, knowing the kind of mood he'll be in when he gets home. it's almost impossible to force your mind out of the gutter when you can't stop picturing him kneeling between your legs, his dark brown eyes turned even darker with lust as he watches your face and every single tiny little reaction you have to him.

it's not your fault that you really can't help it if your mind wanders during the day, sending a shiver down your spine every time you think about how desperate he is for you. he'll never pass up the opportunity to bury his fingers inside you, moaning about how good it feels to have your cunt clenching him so tight and how pretty your legs look as they tremble around him.

jun loves nothing more than how wet you get and he'll clean you up with his tongue, his cock throbbing because he knows you're like this for him and him only. he'll gladly spend hours between your legs, groaning about how you're straight out of his dreams; what other explanation could there possibly be for the fact that he gets to come home to the prettiest girl he's ever seen every single day? not only that, but that you let him play with you whenever you want? he feels like he's died and gone to heaven every time you spread your legs apart and let him spend as much time as he wants in that spot.

of course, he has other favorite things, too. he loves fucking you from behind so he can see your gorgeous ass bouncing in front of him. he loves laying back and letting you do whatever you want to him, pushing his shaft between your breasts and grinning when he covers your face in his cum. but nothing compares to having his face smushed in your pussy, his skilled tongue and long fingers reaching places inside you that you didn't even know existed before you met him.

tonight is no different than every other night that he comes home and begs for your pussy. except this time he's got one thing and one thing only on his mind, and it's going to drive him insane if he doesn't have you right this second.

the first time it happened it caught you off guard. your cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment as the drops rolled down his abs coating the both of you in liquid, your legs still wrapped around his waist when he stops thrusting. you started to apologize, until jun lets out a long, low groan and tells you don't you fucking dare apologize for the hottest thing he's ever witnessed in his whole goddamn life and now he's made it his life's mission to making you squirt as much as is physically possible.

you didn't even know you could squirt at all before jun, but he brings a side out of you that you didn't know was there. a side of you so absolutely insatiable, like an unquenchable thirst, and now that it's been unlocked you're addicted to it.

with the rising temperatures and clear, sunny skies that have come after the rain and cold, it's obvious that summer is quickly closing in. it's one of his favorite seasons for many reasons, but the main one is that hotter weather means seeing you in more revealing clothes.

he had never been the type of guy to go feral at the sight of an ankle or an exposed shoulder, but around you it's like he loses all control. the way your shorts hug your ass—jean shorts, pajama shorts, bike shorts, any and all of them. his mind goes blank and all he can imagine is your perfect pussy hidden so teasingly from his view, and he'll do anything to get a taste. teasingly, because you know exactly how he gets and you love to play into it just to make him even more riled up.

you've started buying shorts that are just a little bit too small, just a little bit tighter that show another extra inch of skin. and you grin in satisfaction every single time he tears them off of you and pushes his hand down past the waistband to feel how soaked you are… until he wipes that smile right off your face with just a simple brush of his fingers.

the same goes for your shirts, too. the crop tops that expose your tummy; he loves to run his fingers over your skin, and the short length makes it so much easier for him to slide his hands up to feel your breasts. and don't even get him started on the tank tops; he feels like a virgin all over again, unable to stop his cock from twitching in his pants. when he sees that little extra bit of cleavage sitting so perfectly.

god, he loves every fucking thing about your body. but there is, however, one downside to the summer season.

okay, so it's not exactly like they banned him from the public pool, but they did tell him (in not so nice words) to stop feeling up his girlfriend in the locker rooms, and now he's too embarrassed to ever show his face there again. which honestly is more than fine by you, because if your hand wasn't down his swim shorts jerking him off as you lazily sat beside him in a chaise lounge, then was it really even a good day?

but besides that, the problem is that he can't see you near water without thinking about making you squirt. there hasn't been a single time when you've been out on the backyard patio, drops of sweat glistening on your skin from the summer heat as you hold a garden hose in your hand watering the tomato plants, that he hasn't wanted to push you against the side of the house and take you right then and there. to curl his fingers in your pussy until his hand is more soaked than the vegetables.

or like the time you both stayed at your parents’ house for a weekend while they were on vacation. he'd found you sitting out by the pool reading your book after you've just finished swimming, and the drops of water on your thighs that hadn't yet dried from the sun had reminded him too vividly of how you looked after he made you squirt with his cock. that day you'd needed a second shower, and it wasn't from the chlorine in the pool.

if your mind is in the gutter when you think about him, then his mind is in a place further than hell when he thinks about you. 

so really, you can't blame him for tonight. you can't get mad at him after you sent him pictures of the pretty new bikini you'd bought for the upcoming cruise you were going on next month. but not just pictures of the bikini; pictures of you wearing it, your knees spread temptingly in a way that you knew for a fact would get him hard as a rock in seconds.

he's pissed, but more than that he's needy, because he already had to jerk off in the bathroom at work because he couldn't get his hard-on to go down any other way. his own fist will never compare to how good your pussy feels against his face, so it seems as good a place as any for you to start making it up to him for your bad behavior.

he barely gets the front door closed behind him before he's pushing you against the wall, his fingers clawing desperately at your sides as his lips capture yours. it's hot, he’s hot, and the temperature outside has nothing to do with it.

even the air conditioning in your house can't cool you down as he drags you by the waist to your shared bedroom, telling you it would be in your best interests to be waiting naked by the time he comes back with towels because he's not feeling very patient tonight.

you love it when he gets like this, and you grin triumphantly as you pull your panties off and leave them hanging off the edge of the bed, the glistening wet spot on them purposefully noticeable. you already know that you won't be leaving this room until the towels and sheets beneath you are equally soaked, and just the thought alone makes you dizzy. 

the grin on jun's face is wide enough to rival yours when he comes back to find you laid out so prettily on the bed, on display for him like a gourmet fucking meal.

you lift your hips for him as he spreads out a towel beneath you, kneeling at the foot of the bed with your thighs on either side of his head. just one look at your dripping folds and he's already gone, throwing your legs over his shoulders and digging his fingers into your thighs to spread you apart even more for his eager mouth.

you've had jun's mouth on you more times than you can keep track of, but every single time still feels like the first. no matter how often he does it, you don't think you'll ever be prepared for the first lick, when he flattens his tongue to cover as much of you as possible at once before he begins.

the way he immediately and easily finds your clit, sucking messily before moving lower to slide through your folds, is always enough to bring you right up to the edge, but it doesn't last. it's a constant battle between making you cum as fast as possible, or prolonging it and moving around until you can't take it even for one more second and your orgasm is ten times stronger. 

this time he chooses the latter, but you already had a feeling that that's how things would go. he's focused, honed in on your pussy; he is going to make you squirt all over his face, and if you don't think that's a guarantee, then you'd be sorely mistaken.

it's not the first time you've played this little game with him: sending suggestive photos and texting flirty messages, until you inevitably end up under him with enough orgasms to last you a week. but it's never enough to last, of course, and it's not long before you do it all over again.

he likes to act like he's teaching you a lesson, but you both have been through this routine enough times to know it's the thrill that keeps you coming back more than the need for punishment. you could always just ask him, but where's the fun in that? it's much more exciting to push his buttons and let him take over. it would almost be funny how his reaction is exactly the same every single time, if your reaction weren't also exactly the same. it's a habit you fall into together, but you wouldn't trade it for anything.

jun's fingers slide up your body, stopping at your waist to grab you and pull you harder against his nose. it's impossible not to let yourself get lost in it, moaning and threading your fingers in his hair as your pussy throbs in his mouth.

he points his tongue at your clit once more and he doesn't let up until your thighs start to shake, your breath coming out in shallow gasps. you're close and he knows it, almost even better than you know it yourself because he's spent so much time between your legs that he knows how to read your body like an open book. 

your fingers in his scalp squeeze tighter, pushing his head further into you, and he groans at the feeling. he loves how quickly you get fucked out from his mouth alone, that you’re barely even processing how roughly you're moving his head because your body is on fire from the stimulation.

he'd live and die in your pussy if he could, and that's exactly what he plans to do tonight as his tongue flicks faster and harder. he can feel the wetness already gushing out of you and he knows you're right there, ready to give him what he so desperately wants.

with one final suck to your clit you go rigid and your muscles release, whimpers and whines flowing from your lips like liquid as you cum. it drenches his face, running down his cheeks and his chin and soaking his hair.

he drinks you up like a starved man, like he's been wandering alone in the desert and finally found his oasis. your head rolls back and your body writhes under his hands, but his grip is too tight and he is far too committed on getting every last drop from you to allow you to squirm out of his grasp.

it's overwhelming nearly to the point of pain but you don't want him to stop, you desperately need him to keep going until you're drained. and that’s one of the best things about jun, is that by now he can practically read your mind and he can tell when you need more and when you don’t.

he can tell what you want without even having to ask, so he reaches up and squeezes your hand in his as he looks up from between your legs, meeting your eyes and giving you that look that makes you shiver because you couldn’t imagine anyone else but him in this position. you don’t want to stop, not yet, and he nods at you knowingly with a hazy little grin and slides his tongue right back where you want it.

he’s more than willing to spend the rest of the night kneeling in front of you until you’re spent, if that’s what you want. honestly, he’s willing to spend the rest of his life there, too.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

taglist will be in the comments under this fic since tumblr is having problems with mentions, i can't add them as i usually do. if you'd like to join and be notified when i post a new fic, you can fill out this short form here! :)

#kvanity #kflixnet #k-labels #caratlibrary #[📌] — june.writes #jun smut #junhui smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #junhui fanfic #junhui scenarios #junhui x reader #jun imagines #jun fanfic #jun scenarios #svt scenarios #svt x reader #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #seventeen scenarios

[dixons-sunshine]

I Never Lived For The Applause | Daryl Dixon x Former!Celebrity!Fem!Reader

Summary: Before the world quite literally ended, you were a famously known singer. However, your celebrity status didn't do you much good in the apocalypse, despite most people in your group giving you privileges that you didn't want. Thankfully, a certain redneck archer treated you like a normal person, unwillingly becoming the guy who caught your attention.

Genre: Angst, fluff.

Era: The quarry; the farm; the prison.

Warnings: Swearing, usual TWD warnings, suggestive themes.

Word count: 3.9k.

A/n: Okay but the former!celebrity!reader x Daryl was such a unique idea that an anon requested! I never would've thought about that on my own. I thought that this idea would be great combined with a few other requests, and this was born. There's a few time jumps and this is honestly not the best. I scrapped over 1500 words and this is all over the place, and it was supposed to be smut, and I don't really like this, but I hope you like it nonetheless.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

Before the apocalypse came to be, you were a famous singer and songwriter. You had multiple hit singles that made the charts and your concerts always sold out. It seemed like wherever you would turn, there would be someone there who would want an autograph or a picture. It seemed like you could never escape the spotlight.

Not even now, when the dead started rising and the world came to an end.

“Amy, I told you, I'm fine. I don't want your food. You need it more than I do.”

Amy shook her head defiantly, practically shoving the paper plate into your hands. “I insist. You're my idol, and I'll be damned if I let my idol go hungry when I have food I can give her.”

You sighed and reluctantly accepted the plate. “This is unnecessary. I already had my share, sweetheart. You don't have to give me yours when you also have to eat.”

“I'm fine. Rather me than you.”

Before you could protest, Andrea called Amy's name. Amy gave you an apologetic smile and bid you farewell, walking over to her sister and leaving you alone with your thoughts. You sighed and turned around, heading over to the tent you shared with your daughter. You opened the flap and stepped inside, seeing your twelve year old daughter, Nicolette, busy sketching in her sketchbook.

She looked up when she heard you step inside, sending you a smile. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hey, Nic,” you greeted her, sitting down on your cot opposite hers. “Why aren't you outside with the other kids?”

Nicolette shook her head, closing her sketchbook and sitting up in her cot. “Most of them treat me funny. They keep asking me if I can sing or if I can write songs, and if I got free stuff because you were famous. Only Carl and Sophia treat me like I'm a normal kid, but they're with their mom's right now.”

You sighed, guilt gnawing at you from the inside. Never once did you regret having your daughter, but sometimes you regretted having to raise her while you were in the spotlight. The paparazzi were relentless, and your daughter more often than not had to pay the price for that. It was unfair, and you wished that you could've just faded from the spotlight to raise your daughter in peace.

“I'm sorry, baby. If I knew back then what my fame could do to you, I never would have signed on with that record label. I wish I could take it back.”

Nicolette shook her head. She got up from her cot and sat down next to you, leaning her head on your shoulder. You wrapped your arms around her, placing a tender kiss on her head.

“It's not your fault, Mom. I don't blame you. You shouldn't, either.”

You shook your head. “That's easier said than done,” you replied, before adopting a more lighthearted tone. “But let's not talk about that. I've got some more food for you if you're hungry.”

Nicolette smiled at you and nodded eagerly. “I'm starving. Thanks, Mom.”

You smiled at her. However, before you could respond, a ruckus could be heard outside your tent. Both yours and your daughter's heads snapped in the direction of the two voices, instantly going quiet to hear what was happening.

“M'tellin ya, man. S'a fuckin' waste of time. We should jus' cut our losses here and scram. Take a few guns and food fer the road.”

“Merle, fer the last fuckin' time, we can't leave righ' now. It's too dangerous. We should wait 'til the heat dies down 'fore we go.”

“Wha' m'hearin' s'tha' yer a pussy. Wha's the matter, Darylina? Scared the geeks will get ya? 'Cause yer too incompetent to handle 'em?”

“Fuck off, Merle! It ain't like tha'. I jus' dun' wanna risk our lives if we dun' need to.”

“Whatever, man. M'goin' back to the tent.”

The man who's name you had learnt to be Merle left, his retreating footsteps growing fainter until you couldn't hear them anymore. However, you could clearly see the silhouette of the other man still outside your tent. You could hear him quietly muttering to himself.

Turning to Nicolette, you gently placed the plate with the food—cooked squirrel with some beans—onto her lap and stood up. You turned to her and leaned down to place a sweet kiss to her forehead.

“Eat up and get ready for bed. I'll be right back and then we'll continue reading that book.”

Nicolette nodded, and with that, you exited your tent. The man stood with his back to you, but a simple slight twitch of his head in your direction showed that he had heard you. His body stiffened visibly, and you frowned at that.

“Hey. You're Daryl, right?” you asked him, prompting the man to turn around.

However, he didn't meet your gaze, finding great interest in the ground below. He simply grunted his acknowledgement, a slight upwards nudge of his nose confirming your question.

“I'm Y/n. It's nice to officially meet you,” you introduced yourself, extending your hand to his for a handshake. Daryl made no move to shake it, however, making you awkwardly retract your hand. “I, uh, just wanted to say that you were right.”

“Wha'?” Daryl asked in confusion, his eyebrows furrowing. He hadn't meant for the question to slip from his lips, trying to just remain quiet until you got the message that he was in no mood to socialise, but he failed.

“That argument you had with your brother. You were right. It's way too dangerous to wander off on your own right now. Personally I feel like you shouldn't be wanting to go at all because it's safer with a group, but that's not my call to make. Just thought I'd let you know that your instincts are right. Don't listen to your brother.”

Daryl was confused by your niceness. He was even more confused by the fact that you agreed with him. He was so used to women taking Merle's side instead of his all the time, so this was something entirely new for him.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” he replied awkwardly, nervously chewing on his lower lip.

You smiled at him before nodding. “Okay, well, just wanted to tell you that. Oh, and to ask you not to argue in front of my tent again. I have a twelve year old in there who doesn't need to hear all of that.”

Daryl ducked his head, an embarrassed blush flushing over his face. “Sorry.”

“I guess I can let it slide this time,” you said with a smile. “And thanks for the squirrel. Thanks to you, my daughter doesn't have to go to bed hungry tonight. Never thought we'd have to resort to eating squirrel, but it's not that bad. It's actually kinda delicious. It's way better than—” Realising that you were busy rambling, you shook your head and gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Just, thank you.”

Daryl didn't know why, but he felt an unexplainable pull to you. Maybe it was the way you showed him kindness without even knowing him, or maybe it was the fact that you were the only one who seemed to actually appreciate the food he brought back from his hunts, even if it was squirrels. Despite their hunger, everyone else mostly refused to eat anything he brought back if it wasn't deer. Yet there you were, thanking him for bringing back something as mediocre as squirrel.

And it certainly didn't help that he found you absolutely radiant.

“S'nothin',” he finally responded. “M'jus' glad yer lil' girl can eat tonigh'.”

“You're the one who brought back the squirrels?”

At the sound of a small voice, both you and Daryl turned around to face your daughter. Nicolette walked up to your side and beamed brightly up at Daryl, catching him off guard. The other kids in the camp were terrified of him and wouldn't even glance in his direction, yet this kid was not only looking at him, but willingly talking to him.

“Yes, he is,” you confirmed, smiling fondly down at your daughter.

Nicolette looked up at Daryl, realisation dawning on her. “You're the man with the crossbow! And the vest with the angel wings! You're so cool, sir. Do you think I could maybe shoot your crossbow one time? It's okay if you say no, but can I maybe see how you shoot it so that when I get my own crossbow one day, I know how to use it? Or—”

Daryl's lips subconsciously twitched up into a smile. Her rambling was so similar to yours. Like mother, like daughter, he thought to himself as he looked between the two of you. There were over a dozen similarities between you and Nicolette. She looked just like you.

You placed a hand on Nicolette's shoulder, halting her rambling. You turned to Daryl, giving him a smile. “We should probably get ready for bed. Goodnight, Daryl.”

“Night, Daryl!” Nicolette greeted him enthusiastically, following you into the tent.

“Night,” he whispered.

“Oh, and by the way, don't be a stranger. I'd love to see more of you.”

Daryl blushed and ducked his head. He hummed, not trusting his voice at that moment in time.

You smiled and finally entered the tent, zipping the tent closed behind you. He stood there for a couple of moments before turning and walking back to his own shared tent with Merle.

Daryl couldn't explain it, but for some reason, in that short conversation, he felt drawn to you. It was unnerving, but felt nice at the same time. And your daughter was downright an angel, your exact copy.

“Wha' were ya doin', sniffin' 'round tha' popstar?” Merle asked when Daryl entered the tent, catching him off guard. Daryl had assumed that Merle would've been passed out by now, high off of whatever drug he was using that night.

“Popstar? Wha' the hell are ya talkin' 'bout?” Daryl questioned, plopping himself down on his cot.

“Tha' woman ya were talkin' to, she was a singer 'fore all this. Real famous, too. Used to see her on TV and in magazine's all the time.”

Daryl's mind swarmed with questions. You were a famous singer? How the hell did you end up there, with a bunch of nobodies? And why had you thanked him for bringing back something as simple as a squirrel? If you were famous, you had probably eaten banquets of the richest, most delicious food out there, yet you enjoyed squirrel? And to top it off, why would you willingly want to hang out with him of all people?

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Daryl, oh my god.”

At the sound of your panicked voice, Daryl slowly sat upright in the bed in the guest bedroom. He looked up and locked eyes with you, seeing the worry written all over your face. You hurriedly sat down on the edge of the bed next to him and gingerly reached out to touch the bandage around his side, careful not to add too much pressure and hurt him.

“M'fine, sunshine. Dun' have to worry 'bout me,” he replied, waving off your concern and gently grabbing your hand to push it away from the bandage.

You scoffed in disbelief and shook your head. “You're my friend, Daryl. Of course I'm going to worry about you. I care about you, and you expect me to not worry?” you asked, bringing your hand up to gently caress his cheek.

Friend. That word reminded Daryl of how you viewed him. It had been two months since your first interaction at the quarry and his affection and attraction to you had only grown stronger. However, it seemed to him like his feelings weren't reciprocated, so he settled on being your friend.

Little did he know that you felt the exact same way. You just didn't know it yet.

“Heard ya punched Andrea fer shootin' me. Any truth to those rumours?” Daryl asked, diverting the attention away from his now pounding heart as your fingers gently pushed his hair back.

You smiled sheepishly. “My hand slipped?” you tried, shrugging your shoulders.

Daryl smirked slightly and shook his head. “Sure. Whatever ya say, sunshine.”

You let out a sigh, reluctantly drawing your hand back from his hair. “She had it coming. We told her not to shoot and she didn't listen, trying to boost her own ego instead. She almost killed you, Daryl. That's not something she should be allowed to get away with, but Rick and Shane aren't gonna do anything, so I took matters into my own hands.”

Daryl smiled softly. “Not bad fer a popstar.”

You giggled. “Hey, I got into a couple of fights before my career took off. I know my stuff. I know how to shoot a gun, too, but that's a discussion for another day.”

Daryl chuckled and nodded. He shifted back against the headboard and gazed at you, simply admiring your beauty for a moment. It amazed him that a beautiful, kind, caring, smart woman like you would ever wanna be associated with the likes of him. You were perfect and he was, well, him. It didn't make sense, but he dared not to question it.

“Can I ask ya somethin' personal?” he blurted out before he could think about it.

You nodded at him. “Sure.”

“When ya talk 'bout yer career, it sounds like ya hated it. Why'd ya become a singer if ya hated it so much?”

You remained silent for a minute. Daryl feared that he had asked the wrong thing and was about to apologise, but you spoke up.

“I was nineteen when I signed with my first record label. I didn't want to be in the spotlight because singing was more of a hobby to me, but my parents forced me to. Growing up, there wasn't ever really any money around and my parents made it out like it was my fault. They made me feel like I owed them for everything they did for me, and they forced me to sign with that record label. My parents were my managers and all the money I earned for the songs I wrote and sang basically went to them. That went on for a couple of years until I met Nic's father. He was a bass player in a band I was collaborating with. I fell in love way too quickly, jumped into bed with him when he made an advancement and ended up pregnant. The guy didn't want kids and bolted, leaving me a single mom. My parents hated that and basically disowned me.”

“M'sorry to hear tha',” Daryl replied sympathetically. He didn't really know how to respond; he never knew that about you. You chose to keep your life before you had Nicolette private, and he respected that. He had his own demons he preferred to keep quiet.

“It's okay,” you reassured him, shaking your head. “He was an asshole. And I was better off without my parents. I managed to sign with a decent enough record label and the rest was history. I got a ton of backlash from haters for being a single mom. There were even rumours that I had cheated and that's why the guy left me, but that wasn't true. But none of that matters anymore. My reputation doesn't matter anymore. All that matters now is keeping my daughter safe and keeping the people I care about alive. People like you.”

“Ya shouldn't care 'bout me. S'a bad idea.”

“Well, bad idea or not, I care about you. And so does Nic.”

As if being summoned, Nicolette knocked on the door and hesitantly stepped inside. Daryl adjusted the covers over his body and sent her a tight-lipped smile. Nicolette gave him a small smile back but he could clearly tell it was strained. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying.

“Are you okay?” Nicolette asked, crossing her arms over her chest as if to make herself appear smaller.

“M'fine, kiddo. Dun' worry 'bout me,” he reassured her. “Hershel fixed me righ' up. I'll be outta here in no time.”

Nicolette looked to you for confirmation, and you nodded. “He's right. He'll be fine. Some antibiotics and he'll be up and at it in three days. You'll see.”

“Okay,” she nodded, her eyes flickering between you and Daryl. “I'm glad you're not dead, Daryl.”

Daryl chuckled at the girls forwardness. “M'glad m'not dead, too.”

You smiled at the small interaction between Daryl and Nicolette, your heart swelling with fondness. You stood up from the bed and motioned for Nicolette to follow you.

“C'mon, baby. Let's leave Daryl to get some rest, okay?”

“Actually, I was wondering if I could maybe stay?” she asked timidly, nervously fiddling with her hands. “It's just... I wanna stay.”

You looked at Daryl, and he shrugged nonchalantly. Despite his nonchalance, Daryl's heart swelled with fondness. This little girl, who owed him nothing, wanted to stay with him. He couldn't believe it.

“Okay, you can stay for a while. I'll be back later, okay?” you relented.

She nodded and sat down on the chair. You gave Daryl's hand one last squeeze before heading out, sparing one last look at the two. Nicolette was starting to retell some of the events of what her and Carl had gotten up to that day, and Daryl hummed in acknowledgement before looking up and locking eyes with you.

With one last parting smile, you headed out and made your way back to the tents. On your way there, a startling realisation hit you like a ton of bricks, one that would change the way you saw Daryl forever. Despite the fact that he could be snappy at times, and that he was known for being grumpy, he treated you with respect. He didn't care about who you were before the end of the world. He didn't care about your mistakes, about if you were famous or not. That didn't matter to him. He only saw you, the person behind the old tabloids, and he had become close with your daughter. He even took the time out of his day to teach her how to use his crossbow, even if she was a slow learner. And in that moment, you realised something:

You had feelings for him.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Y'know, m'glad Nic didn't have to meet her father. She's better off.”

You turned your head to Daryl, a look of confusion spreading across your features. “I agree with you, but why do you say that? You didn't know the man.”

Daryl shrugged, taking a drag from his cigarette and blowing the smoke away from you. “Ya said back at Hershel's tha' he never wanted kids. If he had stuck 'round, god knows wha' he would've done to her.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, turning your attention back to the darkness ahead of you. “She is better off.”

The night was relatively quiet, save for the distant sound of walkers groaning outside the prison's fences.  Daryl was on watch that night in the guard tower, and you had taken the initiative to join the archer that night. Everyone else had retreated into the prison for the night, leaving only you and Daryl awake.

“So are we gon' tell Nic 'bout us or not?” Daryl broke the silence, taking the last drag from his cigarette before putting it out next to him. “S'been over a month now. She deserves to know.”

Unbidden, flashes of that night a month ago arose in your mind. The feeling of his lips on yours, his hands exploring your body and the way he felt pressed against you. The feeling of your bodies becoming one was one that you wouldn't forget anytime soon, but the one memory you'd hold with you forever was the confession from the man next to you. After the heated, pleasurable moment you'd spent together, feelings were revealed, and you and the archer had unofficially started your relationship. You had both agreed to keep it a secret, but Nicolette was starting to get suspicious about the two of you.

“I'm okay with telling her tomorrow. She deserves to finally have confirmation on her suspicions,” you told him, leaning your head against his shoulder. “She already sees you as her dad, anyways.”

Daryl couldn't argue with that. Flashes of his own arose in his mind. A couple of days ago, he had returned from a run, battered and bruised. He could barely walk and both you and Nicolette were distraught. However, after he was patched up and resting in his cell and you were up in the guard tower for your shift, Nicolette had come to him in tears. He had hugged her tightly to his chest, acutely aware that she was transported back to that day on the farm when he had been shot. That night was the night Nicolette had confirmed that she saw Daryl as a father figure.

“Please don't leave. My mom needs you. I need you. We both need you in our lives. Please, Daryl.”

In that moment, even though she didn't know yet that you and Daryl were together, he knew that he wouldn't be able to live without either of you. You both were his entire world. Nicolette was his little girl. You were his partner, and there was no way he was letting either of you go.

“Dun' worry, Nic. I ain't goin' nowhere. I promise ya tha'.”

Shaken from his thoughts by your lips on his exposed shoulder, he turned his head to you, coming face to face with a mischievous smirk. He instantly knew what that smirk meant, and he helped you climb onto his lap.

“But,” you began, pulling his attention back to your previous discussion. “Let's worry about that tomorrow. Tonight, it's just me and you.”

Daryl smirked and attached his lips to yours. You may have been a popstar before the apocalypse, a celebrity living in a mansion, but in that moment, you were simply you. The woman Daryl cared for deeply, the woman Daryl was never gonna let go of.

Because in that moment, you were nothing but his.

#krys writes .ೃ࿐ #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #twd daryl #daryl dixon the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl x y/n #daryl x female reader #daryl x you #the walking dead #daryl dixon imagine #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Man 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

A few days pass as the humiliation of your big lesson clings in the air. You think about it too much. Enough that you find yourself cringing to yourself on your bike ride home or even when lying in bed. You’ve never been the most socially adept so the encounter leaves you reeling.

As you help Bre with opening, you feel your heartbeat pick up once more. You need to chase the elephant from the room. You puff out and wet your lips as you glance over at her. She measures out grinds into the silver machine as her eyes pinpoint on the task.

“Um, so, Bre,” you approach her warily with a fresh sleeve of cups, “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Mm,” she grumbles groggily. She’s on her second coffee already and she only just got there twenty minutes ago.

“So, um, that guy, from the other day,” you rub your boiling neck, “with the mustache. You said he’s the boss. So he owns this place?”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes as she shuts the lid of the machine and turns the silver dial on the front. She shakes her head as the machine starts to brew and she plants her hand on the counter in front of it. She faces you, her other hand going to her hip.

“Mr. Hansen? Lloyd. Hansen.” She enunciates as if you should know the name.

Your lips downturn and you shrug, “is that his name?”

“Are you new in town?” She asks hotly.

You nod, “yeah, actually. I used to live about forty minutes out of town but there was nothing there--”

“It shows,” she retorts, “he owns this shop, he owns the street outside, he owns me, he owns you. He owns this city. Got it?”

You hum and nod as you look thoughtfully to the ceiling, “not really. But he’s important, got it.”

“Just if he comes back in, come get me and say as little as you can. And please, for the love of god, do not ask him for money,” she snips.

“Oh, alright,” you deflate, “I didn’t know--”

“Now you do. Just trust me when I tell you, you don’t want to fuck around with him. If he tells you to pour boiling water on yourself, you’re better off just doing it,” she sneers.

You wince, “okay, sorry, Bre, I was just asking.”

“You ask too many questions,” she turns and goes into the backroom. She returns, dangling a keyring from her finger, “open up. It’s time.”

You take the key and go to unlock the door and flip on the sign. You retreat back behind the counter, swallowed up by the tension between you. You regret asking. You thought it might help clear the air but now you can barely breathe.

When the first customer enters, you volunteer to help them. Bre just mutters and slurps from her coffee. She might have less of a headache if she takes it easy on the caffeine. You don’t say as much to her, nothing really at all as you work through order after order.

She hops onto prep as you man the till while the queue grows. The morning rush is in full effect as you slide baked goods into little paper sleeves and hand them over before sending customers down to the window to wait for their drinks. The hectic flow helps you forget about the awkward start.

When at last the crowd trickles down and the cafe hums with voices sitting at the tables, you have a moment to catch your breath and center yourself. You like this job, it’s just like your last one, but the company isn’t as pleasant. Bre taps her thumb on her phone screen and ignores you.

The ebbs come with hide tides and soon lunch has you scrambling once more. The smell of toasted bread and cinnamon has your stomach grumbling. You’re too busy to let the emptiness bother you for long. When high noon influx subsides, Bre yawns.

“Lunch,” she announces, “I’m going to head down to Tabitha’s. They’re having a clearance sale.”

“Oh, alright,” you agree, not mentioning that she said earlier you could go first, “I’ll be here.”

She doesn’t respond as she disappears into the back to get her things. You hear her leave through the side door that leads through to the alley. You sigh out and watch the sit-in customers on their laptops or chatting with friends.

You resist the temptation of the tarts staring at you from the display. You can hold out until it’s your turn. The door jingles and a new customer enters. You’re too fixated on the painting of a latte to glance over. Not until you sense the sudden shift in the air. Several people quiet and pack up to go.

Footfalls scuff across the floor and customers leave their unfinished drinks on the table as they hurry for the door. You peer around then at the approaching shadow. It’s him. Oh no. Bre isn’t here.

“Um, hello, Mr. Hensen,” you smile shakily, “how are you?”

He stares at you as he comes to stand across the till from you. His blue eyes darken as he lets a long exhale out through his nose. You gulp and your cheeks tremble. He tilts his head and arches a brow.

“Hansen,” he corrects.

“Right, Floyd Hansen, I remember--”

“Lloyd,” he hits his fist on the counter and you gasp. “Lloyd fucking Hansen.” He leans forward and bares his teeth, “get that through that thick fucking skull.” He reaches for you, grabbing the front of your shirt, “you won’t forget who I am.”

“I’m s-sorry, I’m bad with names--”

“Shut up,” he twists the fabric until it strains against the back of your neck, “if you weren’t so goddamn pathetic, I’d drag you across this counter.”

Your eyes round and you bat your lashes. He’s only an inch away from you. You shiver as he opens his hand and presses the vee of his index and thumb to your throat. You’re frozen, terrified. Who is this man?

“Get me my fucking coffee,” he squeezes then shoves you so you choke.

You stumble back and bring your hand to your neck. You nod, eyes glittering with unspent tears, and look around. You can’t remember what he ordered. You’ll just have to make something up. Or maybe you could just sneak out like Bre...

#the man #lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #the gray man #drabble #series #au #mob au

[vbecker10]

Can you do a jealous ex where reader is with Loki and the ex starts getting mad and starts texting and calling reader constantly then one day she forgot her phone and Loki reads the texts and listens to the voicemails then reader comes home to a concerned Loki because reader got hurt somehow?

She's Mine Now

Pairing: Loki x female reader (y/n)

Summary: You and Loki have only just started dating and you're worried your ex-boyfriend will ruin everything. You've been able to hide how often your ex contacts you but one night he calls over and over while you are with Loki. After finally admitting to Loki what has been going on, the God of Mischief takes matters into his own hands.

Warnings: controlling ex-boyfriend, jealous ex-boyfriend, some vague mentions of previous abuse (nothing specific), arguing, swearing, threatening language, name calling, Loki being super protective

A/N: I'm so so so sorry it took me ages to get to this. I'm finally going through my request box and I loved this the minute I saw it. I changed it just a little but I hope that's OK. Thank you for sending it! I hope you like it! 💚

Also... I realized as I was proofreading this that I never named the ex-boyfriend so it's whatever you want it to be lol pick any jerk you know haha

Loki sits on the end of his couch, your head resting on his shoulder while his fingers run slowly up and down your arm. You've only been together a month but you have completely fallen for him. You look up at him and smile when he laughs at the movie you selected.

He notices you watching him and kisses your nose causing you to giggle. "The movie is more interesting than I am, I assure you," he jokes.

"I've seen it," you respond but rest your head against him again.

Everything about him makes you want to tell him how perfect he is and how deeply you love him but you are afraid to. A small voice inside you keeps holding you back from opening up to him the way you want to. Every time you told you ex-boyfriend you loved him, he would tell you that you sounded clingy or needy or desperate. You don't want Loki to feel the same so you keep those three words to yourself.

Loki's fingers move from your arm to your back, moving in slow circles. You close your eyes and focus on how calming it feels but then his hand moves further up. He begins playing with your hair, his eyes still fixed on the screen, a small smile on his lips. You try to keep your thoughts from racing as you feel a familiar pit growing in your stomach. He's upset, he doesn't like your hair this way, your inner voice starts to spread panic throughout your body, he's going to grab a fistful of it any second and yell at you. You tense as his fingers gently run through your hair and he notices the change in your behavior.

"Are you okay, love?" he asks, he removes his hand and looks down at you concerned.

"Yea, I just-" you look down and begin playing with the sleeve on your sweater as your mind replays what happened the last time you got a haircut without talking to your ex first. "I'm sorry, I- I was going to ask you before I cut my hair. I know I should have but I was only going for a trim so I thought it was okay but then I saw a shorter style I really liked and I just went for it but-"

He cuts off your words suddenly when his lips met yours, your whole body responds to his kiss and the feeling of his hand softly touching your cheek, relaxing you instantly. He pulls back slightly, his eyes locked on yours so he knows you are listening to him. "It's your hair darling. You can do what you like with it," he gently plays with the ends of your hair. "You don't need to ask me to do things like this," he says as if it is obvious.

You nod and remind yourself for the hundredth time that Loki is not your ex-boyfriend.

He settles back on the couch, bringing you with him easily, his arm around you. He smiles and adds, "I'm sorry if I forgot to tell you that you look beautiful today."

You blush and bury your face against his chest, the heavy feeling inside of you vanishing completely. He kisses the top of your head and goes back to watching the movie. You close your eyes and force the images of your ex-boyfriend's reaction from your mind, replacing them with Loki's words.

Half an hour later your phone vibrates on the coffee table. You lean forward to try and reach for it but Loki keeps his arm around you. You giggle and try again but he doesn't let go. He looks down at you and smirks, "Where do you think you're going?"

Your phone continues to vibrate. "I need to answer my phone," you roll your eyes.

He looks back towards the TV and dramatically puts his foot on the edge of the coffee table, sliding it further away from you as he straightens his leg.

"Loki!" you laugh as a smile spreads across his lips. He finally loosens his grip so you can get up. You pick up your phone but as soon as you see the number, you end the call and put it face down on the table.

"Who is it?" he asks.

"Wrong number," you answer with a shrug but the laughter is gone from your voice.

You sit heavily next to him and he waves his hand to bring the table back to its original spot. He doesn't respond but you know he can tell you are lying, his expression has become serious and his eyes remain fixed on your phone. Before you can think of a better excuse, your phone begins to vibrate again. You grab it and hang up quickly without stopping to see the number, you know who is calling.

"Who is it, Y/N?" he asks again, his tone is curious but you can feel your nerves getting worse.

"It's no one," you tell him as you tug on your sleeve again.

He sighs at your response and turns off the TV. "I don't like being lied to," he says as he faces you.

"I know," you shrink away from him, waiting for him to yell or tell you to leave.

"Y/N," he reaches out to touch your chin lightly, wanting you to look at him but you flinch away from his touch involuntary. He pulls away as well, giving you more space instead of invading yours. You look up after a moment and instead of seeing anger in his eyes as you expect, he looks sad.

You know in your heart Loki would never hurt you but your instincts had forced you to distance yourself from him. When your ex was upset because you had lied or had done something he thought was wrong, he could be unpredictable.

Your phone vibrates again and he sighs as he picks it up off the table. He hands it to you and says, "Whoever it is must really want to talk to you."

"I don't want to talk to him," you tell Loki, trying to hold back your tears. You toss it away from you wanting it as far from you as possible. It skims over the top of the coffee table and lands on the ground in front of the TV.

"Who keeps calling you, Y/N?" he asks again and this time you know you need to answer him.

You tuck your legs underneath you and move further away from Loki, wrapping your arms around yourself. He shifts his body to face you but doesn't move any closer. "It's my ex-boyfriend," you tell him, you try to keep the fear from your voice but you know he hears it.

"The one Wanda told me about?" he asks, his eyes glance towards your phone and you see a flash of anger cross his face.

You nod but don't say anything else, you had barely mentioned your ex to Loki for so many reasons. You aren't sure how much Wanda told Loki but it was obviously more then you had ever shared with him.

"Please talk to me," he says, moving towards you slowly, testing to see if you will pull away again. "I don't understand why he would still be calling you. I thought you ended things with him months before I met you."

"He started calling and texting me again a few days after our first date," you finally admit to Loki. "I don't know how he even found out about us..." your voice trails off as you look down.

You feel Loki move closer to you again and your body tenses as you prepare for an argument or worse, you shouldn't have hidden this from him, it was as bad as lying.

"I'm not texting him back I promise. I always ignore him. I don't want him to call me but he just keeps doing it, I've asked him to stop but he won't," you say quickly, all in one breath. Loki opens his mouth to say something but you are too afraid to give him a chance. "I didn't want you to be upset, that's why I didn't tell you, I wasn't trying to hide anything or lie about it, I'm sorry," you feel the apology pouring out as it had so many times with your ex. You cover your face with your hands but can't stop the first few tears from escaping.

"I'm not upset Y/N," he says softly. He gently touches your hands and slowly takes them away from your face, "I'm worried about you, that's all."

You look at him, not having expected that response. When your ex found out you were texting Wanda after work, he had been furious. He had never met her and didn't want you telling a stranger anything about him or your relationship.

"I'm sorry," you mumble quietly, not even sure what you are sorry for anymore.

"Please stop apologizing," he says in a calm voice, "You haven't done anything wrong." He wipes the tears from your cheeks, his eyes never leaving yours.

You nod and without thinking you answer him, "Sorry."

He gives you a half smile and puts his arms around you, pulling you close. You squeeze your eyes shut and press your cheek to his chest as he rubs your back slowly. He holds you and sighs, "I don't know what he did to you... and I will never ask you to tell me," he adds when you look up at him, "But I need you to remember that I am not him. I never want you to be scared of me, you can tell me anything."

"I know," you wipe your eyes again. "I'm sorry-"

He raises an eyebrow at you and you let out a small laugh. "There's that beautiful smile I love so much," he smiles in return.

A few hours later, Loki lays awake staring at the ceiling, wishing you hadn't left. He has told you on numerous occasions that he sleeps much better when you are curled up in his arms. Unfortunately, you need to run an errand before work tomorrow so you had gone back to your apartment after the movie finished. Closing his eyes, he rolls over but sits up quickly when he hears a faint buzzing sound.

He gets out of bed and follows the sound into his living room. Loki looks around as the buzzing gets louder until he finally sees your phone lighting up on the floor just under the tv stand. You must have forgotten you threw it there when your ex-boyfriend was calling. He was worried when you didn't text him to say you arrived home like you always did, so at least now he knows why.

He stands still for a moment, watching it ring as he debates what to do next. The call ends and he bends down to pick it up then he takes a seat on the couch. After a few seconds, it vibrates once more notifying him that there is a new voicemail.

He sits back, phone in one hand with his other hand over his eyes. Loki trusts you more than anyone he has ever known, on Midgard or on Asgard and doesn't want you to think he's invading your privacy. It's not you he wants to check up on, it's your ex-boyfriend. Everything he knows about him, he heard from Wanda in one very short but eye opening conversation. She only told him what little she knew but it was enough for Loki to know that you deserved better. He sounded like a man you weren't safe with and your reaction to his calls tonight confirmed that for him. Loki would do anything to protect you so he takes a deep breath and unlocks your phone.

Thankfully he remembers your password, you had told him what it was last weekend so he could send himself some pictures you took together at the museum. He opens your call history and covers his mouth with his hand in shock. Fifty-three missed calls in the last week alone, he stares at the number in disbelief. You hadn't answered a single call but still he attempted to reach you over and over. Most of the calls came in groups late at night, like they had while you were watching the movie.

He opens your texts, feeling both guilty for looking around and angry knowing what he will likely find. He smiles a bit when he sees how you've saved his name in your phone, Mischief 💚, but immediately frowns when he sees an unsaved number right below his conversation with you.

He clicks on it, at first he barely reads the words, he just scrolls further and further down hoping to find the end. He sees text after text after text, some are long rants while others are a single insulting word and it seems to go on forever. Once a day is a text from you pleading with him to leave you alone but it only seems to enrage him.

Loki quickly goes from upset to angry to furious as he reads the threats and insults your ex-boyfriend had thrown at your over the last few weeks. He grinds his teeth as he thinks about you being afraid of your ex and the things he has done to you. He sits back and types out a lengthy reply but at the last second he deletes it.

With a smirk he sits forward with his elbows on his knees and begins to type a new, much shorter message. He hits send and waits a few moments. Your phone vibrates when your ex replies and Loki turns off your phone before going back to his room.

You look both ways and cross the street quickly, excited to finally see Loki for lunch like you do every day. You spot him sitting on his usual bench just past the entrance to the park, lost in his book. You smile when he looks up, his book vanishing as he stands. He hugs you tightly then leans down to give you a kiss.

"I missed you," you tell him, his arms still around you.

"Then you shouldn't have left last night," he smiles. "Oh, I believe this is yours," he takes your phone out of his pocket.

"Thanks. I can't believe I forgot it, that was really stupid," you shake your head. You had realized when you got home last night that you had left it at Loki's but it was too late to go back.

Your heart stops when you realize its your ex-boyfriend. You look up at Loki, one of his arms is still around you but his eyes are fixed to your ex as he approaches with a wide smile and outstretched arms.

"You are not stupid," he corrects you and before you can respond you see someone walking over to you.

He continues towards you and when your brain finally registers that he is trying to go in for a hug you free yourself from Loki and quickly back away. Loki moves in response, putting himself easily between you and your ex which causes him to stop.

"Seriously Y/N?" he says, already sounding annoyed with you. "I drove all the way out here for lunch with you and you won't even give me a freaking hug? You're lucky I accepted your ridiculous invitation after you kept ignoring me."

Loki says, "Y/N did not invite you here, I did."

"Oh really?" he's looks from you to Loki and seems unphased that he is face to face with the Prince of Asgard. "What, are you looking for some tips on how to control her better?" he laughs to himself. "Of course, if you've decided you're done with her, I'll gladly take her back. I put years into fixing her, wouldn't want that to go to waste."

You take another step back as his eyes find you again and they roam up and down your body. You suddenly wish you hadn't worn a skirt and you cross your arms tightly around yourself. He always commented on how you dressed, he had so many opinions on what he wanted you to wear.

Loki notices how uncomfortable you are and brings the attention back to himself. "Do not look at her, this conversation is between you and me," he tells your ex.

He sighs and says, "Fine, what do you want?"

Loki holds his anger at back and in a controlled tone says, "You will apologize for how you treated her in the past and then you will leave, never return here or contact her again."

He almost laughs and says, "I treated her the way she deserved. She needed to learn how to behave and you should be thankful I trained her as well as I did."

Your eyes dart from your ex to Loki and your heart races with anxiety about what might happen next. Loki doesn't respond at first, you watch his fist clench and his jaw tighten. He looks like he is holding himself back from lashing out with every bit of strength he has.

"You have no idea what she was like before. When I first met her-" he tries to look at you but Loki cuts him off.

He walk steadily forward, glaring at him as approaches. "I will not stand here and listen to a pathetic mortal like you speak poorly of Y/N. She is kind, funny, generous, creative, beautiful and so much more. She never deserved to be mistreated by the likes of you. Y/N is a queen and I will ensure she is treated as such."

You can't take your eyes off of Loki, you've never had anyone speak about you this way before.

Loki stops just in front of your ex and says, "If you ever speak to her, text her or see her again, I will make sure you suffer greater than any human on Midgard has ever suffered before."

Your ex-boyfriend looks at him in shock but it quickly morphs into anger, he does not take being challenged or threatened well. He takes a small step backwards and says, "You can't just threatened me like that. You might be some fancy royal on your planet but here your just another asshole. If I want to talk to her, I will. She was mine once and I could take her back if I really wanted to."

As soon as the words come out of your ex's mouth, you know he finally pushed Loki too far. Loki's full armor and tall horned crown appear in a bright flash of gold and green. Your ex goes quiet in an instant as you are both reminded that Loki truly is a God among men.

The God of Mischief looms over him, staring down at him, daring him to speak again. Loki raises one hand and suddenly your ex is picked up by his throat, a green mist surrounding his neck. He tries to claw at it but Loki's magic brings him closer, until they are eye to eye. In a dark voice, Loki says, "She's mine now."

Your ex-boyfriend looks utterly terrified and a part of you can't help but enjoy seeing the fear in his eyes after all the pain he inflicted on you. You watch, your heart still pounding quickly. As much as you want your ex to suffer, you are afraid Loki will go to far, you've never seen him so angry. Look had worked so hard over the last few months to gain the trust and support of the Avengers, if he hurts your ex he will have to face serious consequences. As much as you hate your ex-boyfriend, its not worth risking Loki's future with the team or with you.

Loki's magic brings him closer, until the are inches from each other, his feet dangling helplessly above the ground. "Do not doubt for a moment that I will do what needs to be done to protect the woman I love. Is that clear?" Loki asks and he nods rapidly in response.

Loki releases him from his grasps and he falls to the ground. Getting up quickly, he runs from the park without looking back.

Loki's magic vanishes, his crown and armor fading away in the breeze as he turns to face you. The determination and rage in his eyes is gone, replaced with his own nervous fear. Your eyes remain locked on him as he slowly walks towards you.

"Y/N," he asks softly. You don't answer, your mind still processing the events from a few moments ago. "I'm sorry, I never meant to let my temper get so out of control but I just couldn't bear to listen to him talk about you for another moment," he explains and you nod in understanding.

He reaches out to take your hand, looking down as your finger interlock and sighs. "I told you not to be afraid of me and then I showed you exactly what kind of terrifying monster I really am. I never wanted to scare you, I only wanted him to leave you alone."

"You um..." you pause, biting you lip as you think. "You said you love me?"

"Loki," you close the distance between you and touch his cheek with your other hand. "I could never be scared of you." He looks at you slowly and you smile, he breaths a sigh of relief and smiles in return.

He laughs and relaxes completely, his arm wrapping around your waist. "Darling, I have loved you from the first time we spoke," he tells you. "You mean everything to mean."

You reach up and kiss him, his hands move down your back to hold you flush against his body. You look up, still pressed together and say, "I love you too. Thank you for keeping me safe from him."

You rest your head on his shoulder and he kisses the top of your head. "I promise, I will always protect you, you just need to tell me what is bothering you," he swears.

You smile when you look into his eyes and see how much he means it. He leans down to kiss you again and between breaths he whispers, "Mine."

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚

@soubi001 @michelleleewise @harlequin-hangout @ace-of-gay @xorpsbane @mochie85 @sheris532 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @kkdvkyya @animnerd @peaches1958 @peachyjinx @lokiandbuckysdoll @winterfrostlovetriangle @high-functioning-lokipath @winniewings @pics-and-fanfics @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @crimson25 @goblingirlsarah @janineb86 @chantsdemarins @simone818283 @tonystank8 @im-briana-stan @foxherder @chantsdemarins @catsladen @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @lokidokieokie @dragonmurray @honeydew3064 @malfoycassimalfoy @kneelingformyloki @newtomofgods @jiyascepter

#tom hiddleston #hiddlestoners #tom hiddleston characters #loki laufeyson #twhiddleston #hiddlesarmy #loki x reader #loki odinson #hiddlesverse #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki x female reader #loki x f!reader #loki au #loki angst #loki fanfic #loki fluff #tw abuse #tw asshole ex-boyfriend #protective Loki #loki avengers #loki marvel #loki mcu #loki #loki (marvel) #mcu loki #marvel #marvel mcu #loki fandom #loki friggason

[jediskywalkerblog]

Hey, hun! How about Sleepy Padawan Anakin after a long day of training? All he wants is his favorite "pillow" and cuddles. 😘

Many Thanks ❤️

Omg yesss! This is the cutest request ever, thanks so much <333

His favourite pillow - Anakin Skywalker

A/N: no smut just pure fluff about ani🥹

You’re bought out of your light slumber when you hear the bedroom door close, you look at the clock. It’s 10:00 at night. Anakin’s training has been intense and long lately, but not this long… you turn to face him where he’s walking over to the bed.

“Hey ani baby” you mumble in your tired voice as you sit up in bed. “How was today? It’s so late” you say as he starts stripping down into his underwear, getting ready for bed. You just can’t help but admire his body, the way his muscles are so toned and don’t get me started on those hands.

“It was a long one today baby” Ani says as he lifts the duvet cover, sliding into the warm bed newt to you. “Missed you so bad” he says as he pulls you close so he’s spooning you. He plants a small kiss on the back of your head.

“I’m so proud of you, you’re doing so well. Becoming a strong Jedi night” you say before turning to face him. Your eyes meet his beautiful blue wine before he pulls you in for a passionate kiss.

You pull Ani in to lay on your chest so he can get comfortable after a long day of training. The two of you lay there in silence for a while as you play with his curls.

“I love nights like this” you hear Anakin mumble in his sleepy voice… “my girl is the best pillow” he says as he wraps his arms around your torso, making you chuckle.

“Get some sleep ani, you’ll be back to training bright and early” you say as by this point it’s 11:00 at night and he can’t be tired tomorrow.

“I love you (Y/N)” is all Anakin says before drifting into a deep slumber.

Aw this was so so cute to write!🥹💕 Sorry if it’s a bit short😩… send any Anakin/Hayden requests you have via the ask button on my blog! <33

- @jediskywalkerblog ✨🚀🛸

#anakin x reader #hayden christensen #star wars anakin #starwarsedit #star wars blog #starwars imagine #anakin fanfiction #anakin gif #anakin imagine #anakin x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin smut #sw anakin #haydenchristiensenimagines #hayden christensen fluff #hayden christensen x reader #haydenchristensenedit #hchristensenedit #hayden christensen fanfiction

[bunnwich]

WAKE UPPPPP LEONA'S CLUBWEAR CARD JUST DROPPED

I love when you guys send me asks like this like -

"Sire, look look a new card of your catman has arrived!"

OKAY, OKAY BUN THOUGHTS🐇

1.) I'm am so happy they didn't jack up his face. (Sorry not sorry.) They go so off-model with his face in cards sometimes and I just don't get it. Or make his mouth look weird and thank god!!! (Let's pray the groovy doesn't wash him out!)

2.) AND THE HIGH PONY PREDICTION CAME TRU. I had a feeling he was gonna get the pony but what's more-

3.) THE RETURN OF THE FOREHEAD. I personally think he looks better when his bangs are back, and we haven't got good forehead since his pre-groovy robe card. (Ironically that's my favorite way they have drawn his face/skin.) 4.) HE HAS SUNGLASSES INSTEAD OF GOGGLES????? THAT'S JUST SO ON POINT WITH HOW I HC HIS STYLE VIBES. UNLESS THEY ARE JUST SLIM GOGGLES. VERY GOOD SIR. I'll give you that one.

WOOHOO. The simps can rest now. TBH I'm more excited for the voicelines. I love the tidbits of lore they have. ALSO-

The shoes are wild, but they fit his personality so I'll let him live for now. They remind me of a cheetah. Gotta go fast!! As for lil old me, I am tempted to redo my Spelldrive art from my old account bc I was going through some funk art-style growing pains. I can do it even more justice now I think. >:3c

#twst #twst leona #leona kingscholar #Thank you!!! #OKAY GIMME THE VOICELINES AND GROOVY pls #And then stay tuned for Bun's 1k analysis on both. #I haven't seen anyone say anything about the sunglasses idk it's such a little touch that feels so right #How does he wear them tho??? #remains to be seen #DFGHJK

[russellsppttemplates]

Omg Carlos 😭😭😭 if you are doing blurbs I think dad Carlos fluff like kids making pictures and the twins are born but bigger and are giving him hugs and reader is just glad he’s ok 😭🥺

"Is papa okay?", Clara asked as he watched the red car lose the rear-end a bit before driving again.

"Yes, cariño, it seems he was able to control it", you rubbed her back soothingly as you watched the replay, the twins sleeping peacefully in their pram, blissfully unaware of the scare everyone around them felt for a couple of seconds.

"Papa! You're okay!", Clara ran up to Carlos once he came back to the garage, letting him pick her up into his arms, "it was scary when your car went like this", she gestured with a giggle of her body.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you", he kissed her cheek, "it was fine in the end", he assured as he walked up to you and the twins, "hey amor", he kissed your temple.

"Hey", you kissed his cheek, "that could've been worse, hm?", you checked with him.

"It's not an easy turn, but I got it now, it's all good", he answered before crouching down slightly to see the boys, "they slept all the way through that, hm?", he chuckled.

"They had to sleep some time in the day", you giggled, letting Carlos sit next to you so you could spend some time together before he had the debrief, Clara telling him all about the plans she had for the afternoon.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

#carlos sainz blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

[do-you-know-this-queer-character]

Updates, Apologies, and Moving Forward!

Hello everyone! I am not dead, and this blog is not dead. I know I've been gone for a very long time again, and I'm very sorry.

I had to say goodbye to my cat, my emotional support animal, my baby. I won't say too much here, but she was suffering, and unfortunately there was nothing that could be done. My mental health is fragile at the best of times, and while I am okay and safe, it has been a difficult few months for me. I am also a full-time college student with a job, so all of my free hours were spent in grief. It's taken me a while to feel alright enough to come back, but here I am. I'm still passionate about queer representation in media, and I want to continue to share queer characters with the tumblr community. Starting tomorrow, I will resume the 8 times a day posting schedule that I was starting to utilize before my disappearance, as queueing posts makes my life much easier. I'm sorry if I don't respond to notes or asks left during my break. It's a lot to sort through and I value community engagement on this blog more than anything but I am just one person and I can only do so much. Feel free to re-send asks! Going forward, I'll be making a few changes. I am working on a publicly available google sheet of all characters that have been posted on this blog with results that I will link in a visible place so that people wanting to submit a character can (hopefully) quickly search to make sure that character hasn't been posted yet. I also will eventually be looking for another mod, although that will not be until the summer and I will make more posts when the time comes. I will personally be awol for the last few weeks of may and the first few weeks of june due to a job opportunity out of the country, but I am intending to have queued posts continuing to upload at the regular schedule during that time. Unfortunately this means I won't be able to edit mistakes or answer questions, but hopefully any issues can be addressed when I return. Thank you all for your patience, I'm sorry that this radio silence has gone on for so long, but I've thought about this blog a lot during my absence and I'm certain that it's not a project I'm giving up on any time soon.

#update #not a poll

[wasteddmoondust]

pineapple || james potter

pairing: james potter x reader 1,219 words, teacher and james go on their first date! what could go wrong? a/n: can you tell i am horrible at titling my fics... somehow i just need it to relate to what happens. so uh. enjoy!

prev. chapter

You feel your heart going absolutely crazy. You know it's first-date jitters, but somehow it feels worse this time. It's nothing special, really. You try to tell yourself. Just another first date. Just like other first dates (that has turned to nothing...) And now this first date is the father of one of the children you teach. Yeah, nothing special.

After several attempts to make yourself busy by looking at your phone, you hear your name. It's James and he's walking up to you.

"First name basis already?" you ask smugly.

He chuckles, "What? Sorry, I guess I'll just call you-"

"Please don't, I hate being called that outside of work."

"Got it."

The two of you walk together and he leads you to a quaint coffee shop, James swears by the coffee made here. When the orders are made you find a seat and sit down.

"It's been a while since I've been on a date," he says, hands fidgeting with the receipt.

"Same here," you admit.

He stops playing with the receipt and furrows his brows. "Really? But I'm the parent."

"And I'm the one taking care of your kid for a whole day, 20 kids, actually."

"Huh... and you don't even meet people in the industry?"

You snort. "Unfortunately no, a lot of them are older and married with kids. There's no one to date there. Trust me, even the older teachers try to make me get on dating apps. If anything, you're doing them a favour."

He grins that grin that makes your heart do a little flip. Oh god, it's happening, huh?

"I'm happy to do that."

You continue your conversation, keeping it light with small talk. Then, a waiter comes by to give you your meal and you both thank him. James' phone dings, he checks the message and he replies to it while you patiently wait for him.

He looks back up at you and keeps his phone. "Sorry, my best friend is taking care of Harry today, he was just sending an update."

"That's alright. Is he doing okay?"

"Harry?" he asks, looking a little nervous. His arms are resting crossed on the table. "Uh- yeah. He's fine. Not so sure about Sirius. He just said he's letting Harry use his tattoos as a colouring book."

You laugh. "Yeah, I can see that. He does love to colour. Have you always wanted to be a father?"

James looks stunned, but laughs it off. "Not a normal question for the first date, is it?"

"Well since you already are one," you shrug.

James thinks for a while before answering. "Yeah... I've always wanted kids... Well I'm sure you've seen from the documents I sent to the school when Harry enrolled. I'm widowed..."

You nod, you do in fact know this, you had read through those documents for every child. Understanding their family structure and dynamics can be a big help in understanding the child and improving their development in school and at home.

"She uh- had complications at birth and didn't make it." He let out a sigh and shrugged. "So now it's just me and Harry. And I wouldn't trade him for the world.

"You really love him, don't you?"

"I do."

"You know you can talk about him, right?"

James looks down and purses his lips. "It's just that... other people I've dated weren't really... keen on the fact that I have a kid. You know, another person's child and all."

You tilt your head down to try and make eye contact with him. Somehow, your hand reaches out to his. "You know that doesn't matter to me, right? I already knew you had a son, hell, I even taught him for a whole year, and I still accepted your date."

His mouth forms a small frown, but his hand grabs yours anyway. "I just didn't want to seem weird."

"You're not. Promise," you give his hand a squeeze.

"Is it too early to want to kiss you?"

You both stare at each other for a second before you burst out laughing, making him laugh too.

James starts to tell you about Harry, and visibly gets more comfortable the more he does it. He tells stories from his first words to potty fails. He shows videos and pictures. From there, the both of you fall into an easy rhythm of branching from topic to topic in your conversation. You exchange bites of your food. Before you know it, you're laughing while your meal is long done and you're both on your second cup of coffee.

For some reason, you feel an itch in your throat.

Nonchalantly, you ask, "Did your pasta have pineapple?"

"Yes, why?"

"Firstly, who the hell puts pineapple in pasta? Secondly, I think I'm having an allergic reaction."

James sits up in a panic. "Oh god- I'm so sorry-"

You cough into your first. "It's fine, it usually doesn't react as bad as it used to but I like to stay away from pineapples anyway. I'm not gonna die. Can you get me some cold water, please?"

He immediately stands up and gets you a glass from the counter. You down the glass in seconds and you feel better.

"I'm so sorry that was embarrassing-"

"You're sorry? I gave you a bite!"

"I forgot to ask, it's my fault."

He gently places a hand on your shoulder. "I'm so sorry, let me make it up to you"

"James, trust me, it's fine-"

"I'll bring you on a second date."

You furrow your brows. "You just saw me cough my lungs out from an allergic reaction and you still want to bring me out?" you can't help but laugh at the ridiculousness.

"I mean... I still find you attractive after all that so if you find me attractive after I rambled about my own child to you though you have taught him for this past year I don't see why not."

At this point, you're pretty sure your cheeks hurt from all the smiling you've been doing the entire time.

Despite your protests, James insists on driving you home. When you reach the entrance to your apartment building, he tells you to wait before rushing out of the car to open the door to the passenger's side. You giggle and take the hand he holds out to you as you step out of his car.

He tugs the hand that is holding yours to make you face him. He's so close, you're desperately hoping your cheeks don't show how flushed you are.

"So... same time next week?" you suggest.

He nods. "No pineapples this time, guaranteed."

"And you're allowed to talk about Harry."

He beams at that, looking down and letting out a sigh before looking back at you. "Is it still too early to kiss you?"

"Yes, but for now I'll give you this," you press a kiss to his cheek. You slowly walk towards your building, your arms stretching until you gently let go when you're too far away. "I'll see you next week!"

And like that, you disappear into the building. James is left standing there, still in disbelief of the entire day.

He lets out a sigh, smiling, and gets into his car. He 's so excited to tell Sirius when he gets home.

a/n: if i'm being so honest i have zero idea how most allergies work so please don't get technical with me... also!!!! thank you so much for the love on part one eek i am on a roll i'm so happy to be writing this series.

taglist: @willows-lane @celosiastarr @nsr-15

#marauders x reader #marauders imagine #zee writes #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter x you

[lokideservesahug]

Acceptable "Infidelity"

Pairing: Mark Webber x fem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of cheating (there is none, it's a big misunderstanding)

Notes: No one asked for this bi I hope you enjoy it regardless. Also with all the Pinterest diving I did for this, I have a massive urge to write for Jenson Button but no idea what do if anyone has any requests, please send them my way.

Summary: The 2024 Australian GP, the day of an incredible race, insane results and Mark Webber cheating on his wife?

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Yourusername

Yourusername: What a great Ausgp this year and I can not tell you how great it is to be back 🤍

Liked by aussiegrit, oscarpiastri and 343,897 others

See all 4,875 comments

User1: I'm so curious as to whether she saw the twitter threads or not because Mark is here not once but TWICE....

↳User2: You are freaking grilboss job photos... plus Mark

Aussiegrit: Great to see you back in the paddock.

↳Yourusername: And it was lovely to see you again Mark🤍

↳User3: Awwww... now kiss

↳User4: Woahman they're both married that's a bit wierd (frfr pls)

User5: I know Y/N read that twitter thread and then giggled with all the chaos she made with this photo

Liked by yourusername

User6: Aus GP photo dump but without Oscar!!! OUTRAGEOUS!

↳Yourusername: Sorry😔 But at lesst there is one Aussie!

↳User7: Y/N only had room for one Australian and it had to be her fav.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

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Aussiegrit

Aussiegrit: This isn't the way we wanted the world to find out but with the ever invasive paparazzi, I am finally able to show the love of my life off.

Liked by yourusername, Oscarpiastri and 2,897,543 others

View all 35,986 comments

User1: I KNEW IT!!!! I AM SOBBING RN MY BIGGEST SHIP (FOR THE PAST 6 YEARS IS AFLOAT)

↳ Yourusername: We've been married for 7 actually :)

↳User2: Have I just died and ascended into heaven? What is this that I'm hearing?

Yourusername: Love you, the love of MY life 🤍

↳Aussiegrit: Love you more🖤

↳Yourusername: Not possibleeee

↳Aussiegrit: It is because I said so (also when are you coming home?)

↳Yourusername: It doesn't work like that (half an hour, I've just need to finish one last thing and then I'm yours)

↳Aussiegrit; Yes I does (I can't wait to see you. Love you, more than you'll ever love me)

↳Yourusername: No🤍 (And no🤍 but see you soon)

User3: I'm I'm happy for them (I'm crying my eyes out)

User4: The white and black hearts omddd. Its like they complete each other!

Liked by yourusername, Aussiegrit

User5: I want what they have pls🙏

↳User6: Fr. I also want their secret jeering skills because 7 years if marriage and however long of dating being a secret is so impressive

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Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!

As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome!

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee @minkyungseokie

#f1 x reader #f1 #formula 1 #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #mark webber x reader #mark webber #mark webber x you #mark webber x y/n #mark webber x fem!reader #mark webber smau #f1 smau #ldah's writing

[cerise-on-top]

what if the 141 boys had a ridiculously tall husband. like. a little bit taller than konig, probably. and he's really scary to people, actually!!!! but not his s/o , nuh uh, he's disgustingly sweet to his beloved.. sorry i'm rambling, i think (jokes and idiocy aside i adore your headcanons <3)

Hey there! Thank you, that's very kind of you! Also thank you for sending in a request for a male reader, you're one of the first ones and I was very excited to write about a male reader for once :D

TF141 With A Very Tall Husband

Price: He didn’t really think he’d ever be dating someone much, much taller than him. Sure, he doesn’t particularly mind, but he’s not short either, with him standing at 1,88m himself. It makes him feel small at times, especially if you’re pretty muscular too. He doesn’t get insecure about it in the slightest, oh no, but it’s weird to be so much shorter than your loved ones. However, he’s pretty used to scary people by now. Ghost isn’t exactly a delight to have around at first when you don’t know him either, so he knows how to deal with scary people. Might ask you to tone it down a little bit when you’re scaring other people too much, he doesn’t particularly wanna attract attention like that. But you being a sweetheart towards him? It melts his heart. He knows what you’re like towards people that aren’t him, so it makes him smile that you’re willing to do just about anything for him just to spend some time with him. You wanna trim his beard? There’s a good chance you’ve got some experience with that anyway, so he really doesn’t mind it as much. Hell, he probably trusts you more than his own barber at times. Besides, it’s a nice little bonding activity. If you have a beard then he’ll offer to trim it for you as well. Price isn’t really opposed to being the little spoon, or just being held in general. Quite the opposite, you being this tall sometimes puts him in a cuddly mood where he just plops down into your arms. Gently scratch his scalp and there’s a good chance he’ll even fall asleep on you. He’s so used to being everyone’s protector, it feels nice to be protected for once. But he won’t always settle for being held either, it’s his job to make you feel safe and sound as well, and thus he will take on the role of cuddler as well. Will fight you for that role, actually. Price is a real sweetheart towards his loved ones as well, so I think the two of you would fit well together. His mere presence demands respect in the right people, which can sometimes scare others. So, from time to time, you might both scare other people together. Sometimes intentionally, sometimes unintentionally.

Gaz: He makes so many jokes about you being this tall and feigns being hurt about being much shorter than you are. You’re his behemoth, his leviathan and his ziz. Loves calling you the names of monsters that are said to be pretty big, it’s endearing to him. Besides, you’re scary enough that some people call you a monster anyway, if just for your height. If anyone ever were to call you that in front of Gaz, then they’ll end up with a black eye. No one gets to call you a monster but him. While he won’t always approve of you scaring everyone, Gaz does have a few friends that he wants you to get along with, he won’t particularly do anything about it either if that’s just what you’re like. Might try to make you seem a bit less scary by being a bit more affectionate with you in public. Holding your hand, giving you a peck on the cheek, giving you a hug. Those kinds of things. He actually loves you being this tall since that means you can pick him up and spin him around. He’s not been picked up ever since he was a little boy, so he definitely wouldn’t mind you showing off to him just how strong you are. Is also always looking for an excuse to hold your hand. Oh, seems like he forgot just how big your hand actually is and how much it engulfs his. Remind him for a moment and hold his hand, will you? Gaz is a sweetheart towards his loved ones anyway, if you look past the fact he will sass anyone to show his affection, so he loves that you’re so sweet towards him. Though, sometimes he wishes you were about the same height so you could actually share each other’s wardrobe. But hey, at least he gets to wear your extremely oversized shirts and hoodies, one of his favorite things to do. Another thing he also adores is just sitting in your lap when you’re home together and will also place your hands so that you’re holding him in your arms. If you’ve got really warm hands then he’ll place them atop his thighs to keep himself warm. Gaz isn’t the warmest person out there, but that just means you get to warm him up yourself. Is actually a lot cuddlier because you’re this tall and will become your personal blanket.

Ghost: He feels kind of perplexed about you being so much taller than him. Ghost is 1,95m, he towers over pretty much anyone, so how dare you be so much taller than him. Pretends to hate you being this tall, actually loves it. Sometimes he dreams of sparring with you under the moonlight to assert his dominance, even though there’s really no need to since you’re such a sweetheart towards him. He probably just needs to ask and would get anything from you. He really doesn’t mind you scaring pretty much everyone off, he has the same effect on people he doesn’t know. That just means there’s less people to worry about in his life for the time being. You’ll be spending a lot of time alone with each other that way, which he really likes. Though, maybe don’t scare his teammates too much, he genuinely likes them and wants them to be well too. Though, it’s kind of hard to properly scare them anyway. Ghost is usually a pretty quiet man when there’s no need for chit chat, but he doesn’t mind hearing your voice. In fact, he might get worried if you suddenly stop talking and will ask you what’s wrong. If you’ve got nothing to talk about then he’ll ask some questions so he can continue hearing your voice. He also blushes from time to time when you suddenly give him some sugary sweet compliments. He’s a grown, scary military man, he really shouldn’t be, but it’s just so endearing, especially when you, even bigger and scarier, call him your little honey bunny. It actually motivates him to do house chores. Not that he won’t do them anyway, but you calling him embarrassingly domestic names makes him just a tad bit soft, which leads to him trying to be a good husband. You may cuddle him since he trusts you, but he will also want to hold you from time to time. Life is a constant give and take, so prepare to be cuddled. Won’t particularly ask for cuddles, though, since he’s kind of too embarrassed to admit he’s touch starved. To you it’s blatantly obvious, though, which is why you initiate those cuddling sessions. Ghost appreciates it and sometimes hides a smile in either the pillow or your neck. As long as you don’t see him being silly, all is good.

Soap: He used to hate you being this tall. Soap may “only” be of average height, but he’s the tallest in his family, which he was actually pretty proud of. He towered over his father, even. And then he joined the military, where quite a few people were taller than him. And then you had the audacity to introduce yourself to him. You, the tallest man he’s ever met. It hurt his ego. Ever since you got together, though, he slowly got over it. You’re just such a sweetheart, how could he hate you over something as trivial as this? However, nothing could ever stop him from trying to pick you up and spinning you around. Soap is a pretty strong lad too, he’ll make it work somehow. You will feel tiny and cared for too. There’s a good chance he can’t reach your lips to kiss you. Yes, he could just ask you to bend down, but where’s the fun in that? Climbs you like a tree instead. He’s also always thinking of that one post where, instead of asking their boyfriend, the person should just punch him in the stomach. He won’t do it, but he remembers it every time without fail. He doesn’t mind you being scary either. Hell, Ghost is also a pretty scary guy to have around when you don’t know him and he’s one of Soap’s closest friends. Besides, he knows better anyway. You’re a total goof and the biggest sweetheart this world has ever seen. You being scary towards others just means that he’s got you all to himself all the time. Soap is a clingy guy, so you can expect him to cling to you like a koala from time to time. Actually, that was a lie, you should expect him to jump at you and hold onto you very often. Cuddles over safety. You’re likely also one of the only people on the planet willing to hear him out when he’s talking about his passions. And he could go on for hours every time. Explosives, weapons, whatever show you’re watching together, all is fair game. See, you’re one of the biggest sweethearts to him because you actually listen to him, despite him going into great detail about it all. You may not always be able to understand him when he’s talking chemistry again, but you hear him out anyway, and for that alone you’ve won his heart. He also sits on your lap while talking. You’re his little throne now that he takes immense pride in.

#cod #cod x reader #john price #john price x reader #price x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #I doubt anyone cares but I HC Soap to be 1.78m and Gaz to be 1.81m I just forgot to mention it #m!reader #I know I'm biased but I feel as though I'm actually more willing to write about male readers than fem readers #90% of all things I see in this fandom are with a fem reader there's barely anything for male readers #still thinking back fondly on that one time I got a request for a ftm reader #but that was an eternity ago and I feel as though I'd write that request better now and with more content #I tried to write a lot for this because I was really looking forward to it #besides it was a pretty cute request too. I've actually got a request that's similiar to this one too #it's with Laswell and a reader that's roughly as tall as König #and then I've got something for Nikolai and Price as a couple #I'm gonna write some HCs for that alone and then write some more with added reader as a bonus #I know I never mentioned it anywhere but I do try to be a reader centric blog. but I can write charxchar as well #I just haven't done so since middle school I think #wait no I've written charxchar not too long ago for madcom and tf2. good times #not sure if I'll continue writing today though. I started a new anime and I'm enjoying it a lot so I might watch that instead

[kamig4mes]

heyy, could you please write headcanons for how shigaraki would react/feel with a gn s/o who gives him small things that remind them of him? like, they see a red rock and give it to him bc its the color of his eyes, that kind of stuff

hey hey honey, of course! It's the first request from mha that I make here, although I must admit that I didn't expect it to be from shigaraki! ksdjdjsj 🤭 anywaay, I came up w/ a couple of things for this boy, I hope you enjoy it

#pov: Shigaraki would react/feel with a gn s/o who gives him small things that remind them of him.

★ warnings: realistic hc, fluff, established relationship, affection, couple love, league of villains

—shigaraki!

Realistically, you don't even know how you managed to get this guy to end up being your boyfriend. I mean, your mental dictionary is so broad and far-fetched but the words "love" "consideration" "passion" seem not to be included in it but here they are both! Celebrating even the smallest things you do for him.

Sometimes the gifts with the most emotional meaning are found when you least expect it.

They were walking hand in hand through some deep neighborhood of the city with a path to the forest when something suddenly made you brake sharply and scream.

"Oh my- STOP!!"

"WHAT?!"

Shigaraki flinched when he heard you, alerting all his senses. You got rid of his grip to step back on the way to take something in your hands.

When you came back to his side he looked at you surprised, almost angry.

"Here, take it honey" your arms outstretched towards him with that smile adorning your face, he was looking at you like you were crazy "it's for you"

"If it's a fcking spider I swear to yo-"

"Who do you take me for? C'mon, just hold out your hands" he reluctantly does as you ask, rolling his eyes when you smiled in victory.

At first Shigaraki stiffened when he felt the light weight on his bare palms, moments later he relaxes when he sees that it was a small stone. But not a current.

"A red stone?"

"Yea', a little weird, isn't it? But.. It reminds me of the color of your eyes.." you confessed, feeling your cheeks (and his) burn red hot.

Shigaraki froze instead. The poor man didn't expect to hear you say that, and he never expects it! He's not at all familiar with this type of treatment and sensations that you generate for him, and despite having been dating for a couple of months, this type of affection is still unexpected for him.

Deep down, his heart warmed up like a torch, sending his brain the signal to shout out all the tenderness that you generated in him with that simple gesture. But he couldn't, he felt blocked and too shy to answer correctly.

Since your boyfriend was silent for what seemed like a whole minute, you rushed to bring his attention back.

"We must get back soon before dark, don't you think? We don't want to get lost" you laughed, awkward kissing his cheek quickly. You didn't need him to respond to your acts of love, you understood his heart perfectly. But, sometimes, you wished he would express his emotions more with you.

"And I'm so sorry for yelling earlier"

"Uh-mh, it's okay.." Shigaraki sighed, before linking his hands again and kissing the top of your head "let's go back home"

You learned to identify your eccentric boyfriend's tastes and understand his peculiar manias, but you suspected that you still had a lot to discover about his twisted inner world.

It was just another day of the year when, while cleaning inside the drawers of Shigaraki's bedside table, you came across a somewhat small and neglected notebook with his name engraved on the lid.

You decided to take a look at it, surprising yourself with the amount of sketches that were embodied inside. And you couldn't help but melt with tenderness when you saw that a large part of the drawings that filled that notebook were you portrayed. You rushed to leave it where you found it and get on with the cleaning. It seemed strange to you that that book was out of place but thanks to that cluelessness, you discovered that Shigaraki liked to draw.

From that moment on, every instrument/drawing material you saw reminded you of him. And without realizing it, you ended up buying an impeccable set of graphite pencils for him.

When Shigaraki returned home in the afternoon, a box with a note greeted him in the living room. He looked everywhere in your search, in vain. The white-hair then approached the table to inspect the gift.

"This reminds me of you, and I think it may serve you. All yours"

As he guessed, the calligraphy was yours. Upon unveiling its contents, the thousands of drawings inside his notebook whipped his mind, clearly remembering every moment he made them, especially those where you were: sitting in the living room, in bed asleep, with your back on the balcony, etc. Just thinking about it, his corners rose in a smile that, if you were looking at him, you would be disarmed of love.

"God.. So adorable..."

He may never ask you how you found out about his hobby, but that didn't interest him. Because the best piece of art he can have is you. It will always be you.

Luckily, you have in mind his love for sweet foods. It became essential for you to buy breakfast cereal, specifically the sweetest flavor that existed on the market because it seemed to be the only one that met the necessary sugar levels for him. It's the first thing you look for when you come back from shopping.

"Tomura, honey, I'm home!" you screamed once you entered his warm abode. Soon you heard how a few footsteps crawled down the stairs to receive you next to a kiss.

"You're back soon" Shigaraki took the bags from you and carried them to the kitchen, poring over their contents. When he didn't see it anywhere, he questioned you, "Did you buy it?"

"Of course, it was already running out"

Shigaraki examined your facial features to make sure you weren't lying.

"The one with the double honey-? "

"The one with the double honey and sprinkles, baby, here it is" and you waved the long-awaited colorful box.

Shigaraki blinked with a hidden surprise when you finished his sentence. He loved that you remembered the details about him, he loved feeling special and listened to. Especially if it was you.

The white-hair nodded before turning around to leave the kitchen and go back to his business, hiding from you that goofy smile that was starting to outline on his face.

Whenever you pass by a video game store, the impulse to buy a game from their range of tastes ends up taking over you in some way or another.

"What are you getting me now, puppy?" he mumbled a barely audible giggle as he took the rectangular gift and tore the wrapper "Is this another one of your jok- Oh.."

His eyes widened as he observed the package in his hands. That limited edition Mario Kart game that came out a couple of weeks ago had him so surprised.

"Damn, y/n.."

With his role as a villain, he had moved away from his gamer side quite a lot. But he made sure that no one touched his glorious shelf full of his best and favorite video games. And you were there to stock that dusty shelf, to remind him that that side of him isn't quite dead.

"Do you like it? Although it's not such an important thing"

"Isn't it such an important thing?!" Shigaraki raised his voice offended.

You shrugged your shoulder, feigning indifference even though his beautiful surprised little eyes had you internally screaming "I thought it was missing from your collection"

Shigaraki looked again the video game, his heart turning completely upside down, not believing that you could give him something so difficult to get in the first weeks of release, but you would do anything for him.

He subtracted the space between you, catching you by surprise when he pulled you by hugging you tightly.

"Thanks u, babe.."

As long as it comes from you no matter what you gave him, even if he doesn't show it to you verbally, he appreciates all your gestures.

You smile softly, stroking her hair "don't thank me, honey"

That's the way he was, shy, inexperienced, spontaneous and shy just like a little boy. But little by little that child was growing up, opening up to the affection that you offer him and experiencing the rules of love with you by his side because thanks to you the words "love" "consideration" "passion" were added to his mental dictionary with a clear and real definition, thus finding ways to show you all that love that he also has to give you.

©2024 ／ ENJOY ♡ — I was as realistic as possible, I like hc's to be like that. If you liked it, don't forget to repost it so that it reaches more little people. Thank y, I love them!

#my hero academia #my hero academia headcanons #my hero academia imagines #my hero academia x you #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia shigaraki #mha #mha headcanons #mha imagines #mha shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #tomura shiragaki #bnha #bnha headcanons #mha bnha #bnha shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #shigaraki x y/n #anime games #anime x you #anime x reader #pov #x reader

[nayziiz]

Lost & Found | OP81

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x OC (Genevieve)

Author's note: I'm trying something a little bit different with shorter form fics, so please send through any requests or feedback. These one shots will likely not have a second part unless it really speaks to me to continue with it. Thank you!

Masterlist

As Oscar approached the sleek, modern apartment building in the heart of Monaco, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement mixed with a hint of uncertainty. The Mediterranean breeze brushed against his skin, carrying with it the promise of a memorable evening with his teammate, Lando.

However, as he reached the entrance, Oscar's anticipation wavered when he checked his phone and noticed the lack of response from Lando. Perhaps he got caught up in something, he thought, brushing off the initial sense of disappointment. Determined to salvage the evening, Oscar decided to take matters into his own hands and head straight up to Lando's apartment.

As he stepped into the building's lavish lobby, Oscar's mind raced, trying to recall the apartment number that Lando had mentioned in passing. Was it 402 or 204? He cursed himself for not paying closer attention during their previous conversations. Nevertheless, he pressed on, hoping his memory wouldn't fail him now.

The elevator ride felt interminable as Oscar anxiously tapped his foot, mentally rehearsing different scenarios for the evening. Finally, the doors slid open, revealing a corridor adorned with elegant artwork and polished marble floors. With each step, Oscar's heartbeat quickened, the anticipation mingling with a growing sense of trepidation.

Stopping in front of a row of identical doors, Oscar hesitated. Should he knock on each one until he found Lando's apartment, risking embarrassment and awkward encounters with strangers? Or should he retreat and wait for Lando to respond, clinging to the hope that their plans weren't entirely dashed?

In the end, Oscar decided to trust his instincts and rely on his memory, however flawed it might be. Taking a deep breath, he approached the nearest door and tentatively pressed the doorbell, steeling himself for whatever lay on the other side.

Relief flooded through Oscar as the door opened to reveal a friendly young woman. Her warm smile offered reassurance amidst his uncertainty.

“Hi, I'm looking for Lando?” Oscar ventured, his Australian accent lending a casual tone to his inquiry.

“Norris?” the woman asked, her eyes bright with recognition.

“Uh, yeah,” Oscar confirmed, his spirits lifting at the mention of his friend's name.

“He's in the apartment next door,” the woman informed him, her tone friendly and accommodating.

“Oh, my apologies,” Oscar replied, feeling a mix of embarrassment and gratitude for her help.

“That's quite alright,” the woman assured him with another smile, her kindness putting him at ease.

As Oscar made his way down the corridor to the correct apartment, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment at his forgetfulness. He couldn't shake the image of the warm and welcoming woman who had graciously pointed him in the right direction, her beauty leaving him momentarily speechless.

With a meek wave of acknowledgment, Oscar continued on his way, determined to focus on the task at hand. Finally reaching Lando's door, he took a deep breath to steady his nerves before knocking.

After a few moments that felt like an eternity, the door swung open, revealing Lando's familiar face. Relief washed over Oscar as he was greeted by his friend's infectious grin.

“Lando!” Oscar exclaimed, a wave of excitement coursing through him.

“Oscar, mate! You made it!” Lando replied enthusiastically, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Yeah, sorry for the delay. Got a bit turned around,” Oscar admitted sheepishly, his earlier embarrassment fading in the warmth of Lando's welcoming embrace. “I couldn’t remember your apartment number.”

“Oh, so you met Genevieve then?” Oscar chuckled sheepishly at Lando's inquiry about the mysterious Genevieve.

“Genevieve?” he echoed, trying to recall the features of the woman who had guided him to the right apartment.

“Curly red hair, beautiful. She waters my plants when I'm gone,” Lando explained, a hint of fondness in his voice.

“Must have been her then,” Oscar replied, mentally replaying their brief encounter and nodding in recognition.

“Did you get her number?” Lando raised an eyebrow teasingly.

“It was literally a five-second interaction, how was I supposed to get her number?” Oscar's cheeks flushed slightly at the suggestion.

As the night unfolded, Oscar found himself swept up in the vibrant energy of Monaco's nightlife. Dinner with friends and fellow drivers was a lively affair, filled with laughter and animated conversation. Then, the pulsating beat of the club beckoned, and Oscar and Lando danced the night away, revelling in the electric atmosphere.

“Fair enough. Nevermind, I'll just send it to you.” Lando chuckled knowingly. “You can text her and apologise for knocking on the wrong door.”

As they made their way back to Lando's apartment in the early hours of the morning, their laughter echoed through the quiet streets of Monaco. Their spirits buoyed by the exhilarating night, they stumbled playfully through the door, their cheeks flushed with the warmth of friendship and a hint of tipsiness.

But their jovial mood faltered slightly as they noticed Genevieve fumbling with her keys at the door of the neighbouring apartment. She looked up, surprised, as the sound of their laughter reached her ears.

"Hey, Genevieve!" Lando called out, his voice slightly slurred with alcohol but filled with genuine warmth.

“Oh, hey there! Looks like you had a good night.” Genevieve turned towards them, a smile spreading across her face as recognition dawned.

“Yeah, it was amazing!” Oscar chimed in, his words slightly exaggerated in his inebriated state.

“Glad to hear it. You guys certainly sound like you had fun,” Genevieve chuckled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “I’m actually glad I caught you. I can't get my door unlocked.”

Lando stepped forward, offering to help. Taking the keys from her, he inserted one into the lock and tried turning it, his brow furrowing in concentration. But to their dismay, the lock remained stubbornly unyielding.

Oscar exchanged a sympathetic smile with Genevieve, their shared amusement at the unexpected turn of events breaking through the tension. Despite the late hour and the lingering effects of the night's revelry, there was a sense of camaraderie in their shared predicament.

As they waited for Lando to work his magic with the stubborn lock, Oscar couldn't help but admire Genevieve. Despite the minor setback, her smile remained bright, her demeanour unfazed by the inconvenience.

“We might have to get maintenance out to help,” Lando suggested, his tone tinged with resignation.

“Let me give it a try,” Oscar offered, eager to lend a hand.

Lando handed Oscar the key, and with a determined expression, Oscar stepped forward. He inserted the key into the lock once more, feeling the resistance as he twisted and turned it, his fingers deftly manoeuvring the stubborn mechanism.

After a few tense seconds of pushing and pulling, a sense of satisfaction washed over Oscar as he felt the lock finally give way under his persistent efforts. With a triumphant click, the door unlocked, swinging open to reveal the comforting familiarity of Genevieve's apartment.

A chorus of cheers erupted from the group as they exchanged relieved glances, the tension of the moment dissipating into shared laughter and camaraderie. Despite the minor setback, there was a sense of accomplishment in their success, a testament to their resourcefulness and teamwork.

“Nice work, Oscar!” Lando exclaimed, clapping his friend on the back with a grin of appreciation. Oscar grinned back, feeling a swell of pride at the successful resolution of their predicament.

“Thank you so much! Both of you,” Genevieve expressed her gratitude with a warm smile, her eyes reflecting genuine appreciation.

“No problem,” Oscar replied with a polite nod, returning her smile.

“Oh, Genevieve, this is Oscar. He's my teammate.” Lando seized the opportunity to make introductions.

“Hi, Oscar,” Genevieve greeted him warmly, extending her hand in a friendly gesture.

“Hey, nice to meet you,” Oscar responded, shaking her hand with a friendly smile.

Before any further pleasantries could be exchanged, Lando interrupted with an urgent declaration. “Flip, I need the bathroom.”

With a hurried apology, Lando dashed away, disappearing into his apartment in search of relief. Left in the hallway with Genevieve, Oscar couldn't help but chuckle at his friend's sudden departure.

“Well, it seems Lando's in a bit of a rush,” he remarked, a wry smile playing on his lips.

"If you're not in a rush, can I offer you some coffee for your trouble?" Genevieve offered, her hospitality extending beyond mere gratitude.

"Sure, that'd be lovely," Oscar replied, touched by her kindness.

With a grateful nod, Genevieve gestured for Oscar to follow her into her apartment. As she shut the door behind them, a sense of warmth and comfort enveloped them, the cosy atmosphere a welcome contrast to the cool night air outside.

Oscar took in his surroundings with curiosity, noting the tasteful décor and inviting ambiance of Genevieve's living space. The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, adding to the sense of cosiness and hospitality.

Settling into a comfortable chair, Oscar couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected turn of events. What had started as a simple visit to Monaco had evolved into a night filled with laughter, friendship, and unexpected connections.

As Genevieve busied herself in the kitchen, preparing coffee with practised ease, Oscar reflected on the serendipity of their encounter. Despite the minor hiccup with the door, it seemed that fate had intervened to bring them together, weaving a tapestry of shared experiences and newfound connections.

As the hours slipped away, Oscar and Genevieve found themselves immersed in conversation, their words flowing effortlessly as they explored a myriad of topics. From lighthearted anecdotes to deeper reflections, they shared stories and insights, each moment deepening the bond between them.

As the night wore on, the gentle rhythm of their conversation slowed, the weight of exhaustion settling over them like a comforting blanket. Genevieve's head gradually dropped, coming to rest on Oscar's shoulder as her breathing softened into the steady cadence of sleep.

Feeling the weight of her head against him, Oscar couldn't help but smile, touched by the intimacy of the moment. With a sense of tenderness, he shifted slightly, adjusting his position to provide her with greater comfort.

And as the quiet of the night enveloped them, Oscar too felt the pull of sleep tugging at his consciousness. The warmth of Genevieve's presence beside him was comforting, her steady breathing lulling him into a state of peaceful relaxation.

Eventually, fatigue won out, and Oscar closed his eyes, allowing himself to succumb to the embrace of sleep. Wrapped in the tranquillity of the moment, he drifted off, the gentle rise and fall of Genevieve's breathing serving as a soothing lullaby, carrying him into the realm of dreams.

As Oscar returned to Lando's apartment the following morning, a buoyant energy infused his every step, his heart light with the joy of newfound connection and unexpected camaraderie. Despite the early hour, his spirit soared with the exuberance of a schoolboy, his thoughts abuzz with the memories of the night before.

Entering the apartment with a spring in his step, Oscar greeted Lando with a wide grin, unable to contain his excitement.

“Mate, you won't believe the night I had!” He exclaimed, his words tumbling out in a rush of enthusiasm. Lando raised an eyebrow, a bemused smile playing on his lips as he took in Oscar's giddy demeanour.

“Sounds like you had quite the adventure,” he remarked, his tone tinged with amusement.

“Oh, it was more than an adventure, Lando. It was... it was magical,” Oscar gushed, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

As he regaled Lando with tales of his night spent chatting with Genevieve, their conversation stretching into the early hours of the morning, Oscar couldn't help but relive the moments of connection that had made the night so special.

“So, what are you going to do now?” Lando's question hung in the air, prompting Oscar to pause and consider his response. With a determined smile, he met his friend's gaze, his excitement palpable.

“I'm going to take her on a date,” he declared, his voice brimming with certainty. “And when I get back to the UK, I'm going to start packing my stuff to move to Monaco, because she's just incredible.”

The words spilled forth with a sense of conviction that left no room for doubt. In Genevieve, Oscar had found something special – a connection that transcended mere friendship, igniting a spark of possibility that filled him with renewed purpose and excitement.

As he contemplated the future that lay ahead, Oscar couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation for the adventures that awaited him in Monaco. With Genevieve by his side, the possibilities seemed endless, each moment brimming with the promise of new experiences and shared dreams.

And as he shared his plans with Lando, the support and encouragement in his friend's eyes only served to bolster his resolve. With a grateful nod, Oscar knew that the journey ahead would be filled with challenges and uncertainties, but he also knew that he was ready to embrace them, fueled by the fire of newfound love and the boundless potential of the future.

“I knew you'd like her,” Lando teased, his tone playful. “I did give you her apartment number to begin with anyway.”

Oscar couldn't help but chuckle at Lando's teasing remark, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.

“I owe you big time for that,” he replied with a grin, his admiration for Lando's intuition evident in his words.

#oscar piastri #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #mclaren #mclaren f1 #f1 x reader #f1 #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri x female reader #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #op81 #op81 fic

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Man 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You think you remember. Or at least you’ve convinced yourself that you do.

You go through the painstaking steps as the dark presence looms across the counter. The man walks along, just on the other side of the machines as you steam the milk. Toffee nut, yes, you’re pretty sure that was it.

You put it all together, step by step, hands shaking. Your lips move as you talk yourself through your work silently. You can do this. You still feel how the man scratched you through your shirt when he grabbed you, your skin fiery.

You give one last look to the foam and send a prayer up to whatever deity will hear it. You slowly move to the till and place the cup down. You wet your lips and clear your throat.

“Almond, toffee nut, half blond, half regular, cinnamon on top,” you declare, voice quavering as you stare at the bristle across the man’s upper lip. “Mr. Hansen.”

He clucks and leans on the counter, hooking one foot behind the other. He wraps his hand around the cup and slides it closer to himself. He stares down into as you fidget. You glance around at the baked goods.

“And a cinnamon bun?” You suggest but before you can carry through on the offer, a splash of liquid washes over you, hot despite the layer of steamed milk.

“Oat milk,” he crushes the empty cup in his large hand and throws it at your face. You sputter and blink as the foam drips down your cheeks.

“Sorry, sir, I’ll make it again.”

“Fucking right, you will, sweet lips,” he growls and stands straight, crossing his arms.

You pull the bottom of your apron up and wipe your face. You bend to pick up the empty cup and turn away. Your eyes sting and you wiggle your tingling nose. It’s fine. You can do this.

Oat, half blond, half regular, toffee nut, cinnamon on top. The smell of espresso and syrup clings to you as you make the death march back to the till. You set the cup down without a word.

Mr. Hansen, Lloyd, the boss, whatever he is, considers you as he lifts the drink and examines the careful leafy art in the foam. He turns it and inhales the scent, some of the foam catching in his mustache. He takes a breath as if about to dive into water and has a taste. The tip of his tongue pokes out as he pulls the cup away from his mouth. He hums. Does he like it?

Splash.

Another searing dousing and you stand there with a gasp, shaking off the dredge of his displeasure.

“Mr. Hansen, I--”

“First thing’s first. Shut the fuck up. You talk too much,” he tosses the cup. Bonk, right off your forehead. “Second, I changed my mind. Get me a mocha. Extra whip.”

You nod and keep your head down. You pick up the cup and stand, nearly slipping in the puddle around your feet. You dispose of the empty cup and go to the coffee machine. You begin your new task, hands clumsy and trembling. You add the whipped cream and return to the till. You put the cup down and grab onto the counter to keep from sliding through the liquid at your soles.

He lifts it and you wince, bracing for another deluge. He repeats the same deliberate examination. You swallow tightly as he samples your work. This time he doesn’t make a noise. As he lowers the cup, you flinch and take a step back.

He cackles, “relax, cupcake.”

You stare at him grimly. You flick your lashes and blow out your nerves. You hide your shaking hands behind you.

“Now you know who the fuck I am,” he says, “clean yourself up and get back to work.”

He grabs a package of the cookies along the small shelf beside the till then turns on his heel and struts to the door. You watch after him, damp and dripping. As the door opens and closes, you turn to face the mess. You sigh and go to grab the mop; you can clean the floor but you can’t do much for yourself.

You work at soaking up the excess then spray cleaner on the floor and wipe with paper towel to prevent it from getting sticky. As you work at sopping up the errant droplets from the counter, the door behind you swings open. You glance over your shoulder as Bre sweeps through.

“Alright, your turn--” She stops short as you face her. “What happened?” Her face slackens with dread and shock, “what did you do?”

“It was Mr. Jansen—Hansen,” you correct yourself, “he came by and--”

“I told you not to talk to him,” she hisses.

“I... I didn’t have a choice. He wanted a drink and--”

“Fuck. Fuck! What did he say? What did he do?” She snaps.

You recoil at her accusatory tone, “he... he threw coffee in my face? He took some cookies? I don’t know? He just... said now I know who he is. I didn’t really understand--”

“You don’t. You don’t understand. You don’t get it.”

You frown and cross your arms, “I’m sorry, Bre, I did my best--”

“Not good enough. You think it’s all fun and games. It’s not. That man is dangerous. Not just here, everywhere,” she shakes her head, “you’ll see. Out there, on your own. Give me your apron.”

“What?” You murmur.

“Get out. I’ll call Maurice and let him know it didn’t work out.”

“What? No, you can’t--”

“I am. Give me your apron. Now.”

You pout and sniffle. You reach back behind you and unlace the apron and lift it over your head. You hold it out to her, “it’s wet--”

“Just go.”

You hang your head and turn away. Your eyes begin to stream before you even get through the door. You grab your stuff from the backroom and give one last look around. You got fired. What are you going to do?

You fold your jacket over your arm and sling your bag from your shoulder. You let yourself out into the alley and head down to the street. You stop at the end and cover your face, sniveling behind your hands as you lean on the brick. You don’t want to go back home. You only just got there.

“Whatsa matter, sweet lips?” The low drawl is followed by a loud slurp, “bad day?”

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