#turns out the secret to getting what you want is asking for it

[marvelfilth]

Tattoo

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x f!reader

Warnings: drunk jenna ig

Summary: an unexpected visitor makes your evening unforgettable

Masterlist

You sigh as Judy, the girl who's back you've spent the past hours tattooing, disappears out the door and into the darkened street, her happy skips illuminated by the soft yellow hue of the street lamps. You don't know how she managed to sit or, rather, lay through the session, happily blubbering about her three cats and a dog waiting for her back home.

You shake your head and walk up to the small desk near the entrance. Amelia, the receptionist, has left just as the sun started to set, blowing you a kiss goodbye and thanking you for letting her out early, so you've been stuck managing your studio alone.

Looking at tomorrow's schedule you sink into the soft leather chair, relieved to see that your morning is free. You can already imagine how sweet it'll be to finally sleep in and have a relaxing start of the day.

Your daydreaming is cut short when the door opens again, and you open your mouth to ask if Judy forgot something, but snap it back shut when you realize it's not her.

You get up, walk around the desk and take a second to look at the stranger, who, inconveniently, turned her back to you.

Still, you admit, it's a nice back, clad in a soft looking black blouse tucked into dark jeans. Your drum your fingers on the desk and pointedly clear your throat, but the stranger doesn't pay you any attention. Instead she takes a few steps to look at the wall littered with various photos of your happy clients, and humms to herself.

"Sorry, we're closed," you speak softly, as not to startle her, but she still jumps comically high, one hand clutching her purse and the other flying up to rest over her heart.

She turns around, swaying, and squints at you, her brows furrowed and her lips pursed in thought. You grip the desk behind you when you recognise her.

Amelia will die when she finds out who she so narrowly missed.

"D-do you know how to use this?" Her voice is hoarse, like she spent hours screaming at the top of her lungs, and her finger trembles when she points it at your tattoo machine.

She grins at your hesitant nod, stumbling as she closes spaces between you. "I want a dragon," she giggles, covering her mouth with her palm as if she's letting you in on a secret. "All over my back. A huge one."

You bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing when she gets close enough for you to smell the alcohol on her breath.

"You're drunk and we're closed," you say and her eyes dart down to look at your lips.

"What?" She mutters, and her hands go up to hold your cheeks. "Stop moving so much, I can't hear you." She pouts, still looking at your lips.

You snort and take her hands in yours, prying your face out of her grip. She shakes her head, and winces when the movement causes her to sway again.

You wait for her to look at you before you speak again.

"Are you here alone?" You make sure to say as clearly and slowly as possible, holding her hands to make sure she doesn't trip over her own legs.

She sighs and looks up to the ceiling. "Yes."

You tug at her hands. "You need to call someone to come pick you up."

She blinks and looks at you for a long moment, her eyes cloudy and pupils dilated. "No. I need a dragon," she insists.

You bite back a smile and lead her behind the desk. She falls in the chair with a content sigh, closing her eyes. "Melissa dared me to. I c-can't come back without a dragon," she mumbles.

You lean back against the desk, this time not able to suppress a chuckle. She opens one eye and kicks at your shin with her foot. "This is serious."

"I'm sure it is," you agree to appease the frowning girl. "You can come back when you're sober, and I promise you'll get that huge dragon all over your back."

You smile when she nods and reaches for one of the business cards laying in the corner. She slips it into her back pocket and fully relaxes in the seat, and you're suddenly at loss of what to do next.

Someone's supposed to be looking for her, right?

You turn to look out the window at the dark street, noting the lack of cars.

"You're pretty," she murmurs. "Like… I want to take a picture of you and put it as my lockscreen kind of pretty."

You snort, looking at the girl who's now staring up at you in awe. "Do you always put pictures of strangers as your lockscreen?"

She frowns. Her lips move, but nothing comes out.

You sigh, shaking your head, and get up to find your phone. You need to call Amelia, she will know what to do.

"I'm getting sleepy."

You pause. "You can't fall asleep."

"Mhm," she hums as her eyes close.

You close the space between you in short strides, but you're not fast enough. She's already snoring lightly when you reach her, a small smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

"Great," you groan. “Just perfect.”

You fidget with your phone, unsure. Should you call Amelia? She will probably freak before figuring what to do with the sleeping girl.

With a sigh, you unlock your phone. It's not like you have any other options.

Just when you're about to press the call button, the girl slides off the chair, her butt hitting the floor with a quiet thud. You wince as the chair rolls away and her back meets the floor before you can catch her.

She doesn't wake. In fact, she curls up, hands pillowed under her head, and sighs in content. You snort, shaking your head. The sight is quite adorable.

“It- it would take-” she mumbles, deep in her sleep, “-a second to peel off the skin…” You gulp, before realizing she's probably dreaming about one of her characters, or practicing the script even in her sleep, either way it's quite impressive. “Limp for limb…" she mutters, frowning.

You sigh, and get a small pillow to tuck it under her head. Might as well make her a little comfortable while you figure out what to do with her.

“Um, hello?”

You jump up, praying that the girl is well hidden behind the desk, she is as small as a gremlin after all.

“Yes?” You turn around, only to be left gaping.

You're in the twilight zone, you're sure.

“I'm looking for my friend,” the woman smiles hesitantly, adjusting the hood of her sweatshirt. “A brunette, brown eyes, about this” - she lowers her hand all the way to her knees - “tall, a bit drunk. She ran away to get a tattoo.”

You shift on your feet, your mouth opening and closing while you try to come up with something to explain why her friend is currently sleeping under your desk.

“Yeah, she's here…” you mumble, jerking your head towards the reception desk. She frowns, stepping around it, and stills, before looking at you with wide eyes. “It just… happened.”

“She tried to kill me,” the sleeping girl says, very clearly.

“Really?” The older woman's eyebrow raises.

“No!” You yelp, looking at the smaller girl in betrayal. She didn't deserve that pillow. “She came in very drunk, and she fell asleep in my chair, and then she kind of… slid off?”

“Used… chloroform,” she mumbles, turning to the other side.

“Stop it,” you hiss to her sleeping form. “Shut up.” You lightly kick her leg with your toe to make sure she listens.

“Pretty,” she sighs dreamily, “pretty girl…”

“I take it you're the pretty girl?” The other woman asks with a heavy sigh.

You blush, nodding. “Not a serial killer, promise.”

She purses her lips, looking down at her friend. “She won't wake up now. She sleeps like a bear when she's drunk.” She looks up at you, eyes searching. “I’m Melissa, by the way. And that one is Jenna. But you already know who she is, right?”

You nod.

“Okay. Since there are no paparazzi around, I feel like I can trust you. For now.” She bends down, takes the sleeping girl under her arms, and lifts her up with little effort. “You get the legs,” she smirks.

You get Jenna out of your studio quickly and efficiently, like you've been doing it all your life.

“Getting rid… of the body,” she mumbles, when Melissa miscalculates and hits the side of Jenna's head against the headrest.

“Yeah,” the older woman cringes, “she's always like that.”

You nod, stepping away from the car as Melissa straightens her clothes, looking sheepish and hesitant.

“Thank you,” she says, “I really appreciate this. And she will, too, when she returns to the land of the living.”

You chuckle and bid her goodbye, waving at the car until it disappears from sight.

You decide you won't tell Amelia about this. She'll probably send you off for a psychic evaluation if you do.

#jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #tattoo #jenna ortega x y/n

[pinkyqil]

Lucy bronze x reader please :)

Reader and Lucy have been together for years but are still not out to the fans and so. Reader wants to have that openness. Lucy wants to be more private. So a heated discussion is formed between the too. Some angst ending in fluff

Who Are You // lucy bronze x reader

You and lucy had been dating for years now in secret. fans not knowing anything at all only spectating from the sidelines or when you both would hint a your relationship without people being able to connect the dots.

Well you were tried of always having to be private. you wanted to be able too have the closeness that other couples had when posting there significant other.

You wanted to post lucy and her doing the same.doing couple dumps being able to post each other's matching outfits, date days pictures, post about each other's your miles stones or instead want the public to know that you both were together if that was it.

Lucy on the other hand wanted to have things private which you respected at first. but thinking about it made you feel like she doesn't want people to know your together or she's ashamed of being with you.

you decided to ignore those thoughts. and would try bringing up how you want to open your relationship to the public more. Letting them know you both are together. which you plan on doing this night as lucu would be taking you out to both's of your favorite restaurant.

The night arrived where you and Lucy arrived at the restaurant everything was going well she was always treating you like a goddess who's feet just landed on earth.

"You always teat me so well". you told her

"If I didn't who was gonna do it huh". She told you while rubbing your hands with hers.

"Your honestly the best".

"All because of you baby". She said.

It took you a while before getting anything out of your mouth which lucy noticed how tense you got during your conversations when she asked if you were okay.

"You okay baby your body feels tense". She told you.

"Yeah I just got something to tell you". You told her.

"What is it you can always tell me anything".

"Well I was thinking maybe we should be more open about our relationship to the public".you told her.

"What I thought you we're happy with our private life".

"I'm it just that it would be nice to let our fans know about us". You told her back.

"I know that what you want but I'm not just ready".

You were starting to get really irritated at licy right now cause it would always be the same excuse she wasn't ready or how would other's think of you both.

"Oh my god lucy I'm your fucking finance and it wouldn't hurt for you to let people know". You yelled at her ignoring the looks you were getting

"Baby please calm down we can talk about this somewhere more private". she told you

"Always fucking private with you never wanting to deal with things now if your ashamed of us just say so you don't need to be coming up with all these bullshit excuses". You told her

"Baby don't say that of course I'm proud of us".

"Don't call baby me cause if you we're actually proud you'd want people to know". With that you left the restaurant before lucy could say anymore.

You arrived at your shared apartment pissed off and decided to head too bed but instead you caught yourself looking at pictures of you and Lucy together that you would love to share but instead didn't.

You heard the front door open deciding not to deal with lucy you turned of your phone fake sleeping not wanting to deal with her. not realizing you fell asleep pretty quickly.

The next day came quickly you did your best ignoring lucy the whole even though you both lived together doesn't mean you couldn't.

lucy had enough with you ignoring her and decided to end whatever silent treatment you were giving her.

"Okay I get that your angry about yesterday and how it was handled but we can't do this if your here not communicating with me". she told you

"You made it pretty clear to understand yesterday that you're ashamed of us as a couple and I'm taking time to that".

"If you'll listen to me I'm not ashamed of us I just don't know what to expect you know how the public gets and I can't stand to see get hate from it".

"I know baby but you can't always stop what other people are gonna say at the end of the day it just gonna be just me and you".

"Yeah I'm sorry for the way I handled things last night".she told you

"Me too sorry for yelling and cursing you out".

"It okay I lowkey deserve it".she told you before pulling you into a kiss.

"Lucia".you whined

"How about we post those pictures you want huh". she told you.

"Really you better not be joking with me lucy bronze".

"Really anything for my favorite girl". she said

"You're the best". You told her before jumping to your phone and deciding on what pictures to use and how to caption it. all in a days work let's just say everything went semi successful.

yourusername&Lucybronze

8 years with you and more to come liked by alexiaputellas lj10 mariona80 leahwilliamson

Comments limited

lj10 freaking finally 🙌

Leahwilliamson look at you both can't wait for the wedding

Alexiaputellas 💝

Woso.fan ik it amazing couple 👭

Bethmead we see you both

Alexgreenwood can't wait for wedding of the year 😍

lucyfan208 I thought she was with ona

#lucy bronze #lucy bronze imagine #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze fanfic #engwnt #engwnt x reader #engwnt imagine #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni imagine #fcb femení #fcbfemeni x reader #fcb femeni x reader #fc barcelona femeni #barcelona femeni #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso fic #woso fluff #woso angst #woso imagines #woso oneshot #woso one shot #woso #woso community #woso drama #barcelona women #pinkyqilfic

[anothermansjeans]

surprise, surprise

s.r x fem!reader

cw: fluff, bau has nooooo idea about reader, food mention

wc: 831

summary: spencer comes home from a case on his birthday and has a surprise waiting for him at the office... turns out it's a surprise for the bau too

a/n: this was a request from @formula1-motogpfan i hope i hit all of the marks with this! let me know what you think!!

masterlist

++

Walking into the BAU after another long case meant so much to the team. It meant they would get their mandatory three day break. It meant they could go home and sleep in their own beds. It meant Spencer got to spend his birthday with Y/N. The team had wished him a happy birthday earlier in the day, asking him if he would like to do something once they got back. Of course, he said no. He didn't tell them his exact plans, but they knew it involved going straight home.

He texted her the moment they touched down; a habit formed after Spencer stayed extra late to finish paperwork, which caused her to worry a lot.

Spencer: I’m back, love. I’ll be leaving as soon as possible.

The team was gathering their stuff to head back to the FBI, and when there was still no response from her as they pulled into the parking garage, he began to worry. She normally responded within five minutes of him sending the text, no matter what time of day it was. Because of dread and anxiety running through him, he wanted to get in and out of the building as fast as humanly possible without the team becoming suspicious of his actions.

As a group, they walked in, and Hotch slowed his pace, causing the rest of them to look over at him. There was a woman standing near Spencer’s desk. “Ma’am, can I help–”

Hotch didn't get to finish his question because when she turned around, Spencer pushed past the rest of the team and quickly walked over to her. A word or two was exchanged and the team watched as they latched their lips together, completely in shock.

“I didn't think he took that ‘kissing has less germs’ fact so seriously,” Emily said, staring at the scene in front of her.

“He doesn't,” Derek started, but whatever he was going to say next was cut off by Penelope.

“I’m so glad you're back safely- Oh!”

Now everyone was standing there, watching Spencer and this strange woman share a kiss and hug. Derek cleared his throat, obviously stunned but not too stunned to speak. “Okay, Pretty Boy, you mind introducing us?”

The two (apparent) lovers split apart, Spencer turning to his team with pink dusted cheeks and bruised lips. He didn't say anything for a good minute, only moving to speak when a soft, “babe,” was heard from beside him.

“Oh! Uh, this is– this is my girlfriend. Y/N.”

She waved to the group with a shy smile.

“Girlfriend!?” Penelope practically shrieked, causing the floor to quiet down for a moment. “Sorry, girlfriend? For how long?”

“One year, eight months, three weeks, and twenty-three days.”

Everyone from Rossi and Hotch to JJ and Penelope was shocked. Emily was the only one who could seem to speak. “You've had a secret girlfriend for over a year– almost two years?”

“Not a secret!” His head whipped over to his girlfriend, “you were never a secret.”

“I know, baby,” she said, placing a hand on his arm, soothingly rubbing it up and down.

“This is insane,” Penelope said as her shocked expression turned into a smile, “like, insanely amazing! Our boy genius found love!”

“Alright,” Hotch cut in, him and Rossi moving from the group, “it’s getting late. Paperwork can wait until we get back into the office. Reid, happy birthday again, and I’m happy for you.” A nod was shared between the two as Hotch went into his office, and Rossi squeezed Spencer’s shoulder as he passed him.

“So what made you show up here suddenly?” JJ’s question caused the attention to go back on Y/N and Spencer.

Y/N cleared her throat and laced her hands down with one of Spencer’s. “Well, I wanted to surprise him for his birthday and I made a cake. I thought everyone here could enjoy it with him.” She moved towards the side to show the box she brought placed on Spencer’s desk. “I could get out of your way if you want to celebrate.”

“Stay!” Penelope again, practically shrieked in the common area, “let’s move it into the conference room. Spencer, you, Emily, JJ, and my chocolate thunder go ahead. Y/N and I will grab some plates and napkins!”

She quickly went up to Y/N and linked their arms together, pulling her away from Spencer and into the kitchen. Y/N looked over her shoulder a couple of seconds after walking away, sending him a smile.

“We’re really happy for you, Spence,” JJ said, walking up to him next to Emily as they started towards the conference room.

“She's pretty. And we can tell she makes you happy,” Emily followed.

When it was just Derek and Spencer, Spencer looked over at the other man as he picked up the cake and ushered them both towards the round table. “You're lucky, Reid.”

“I know.” And he did know. He was really lucky.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #criminal minds

[shelbygun]

happy birthday, baby

pairing: thomas shelby x fem!reader

summary: thomas always wanted you, and he will claim you on your birthday.

warnings: big ? age gap (reader is 17 and tommy in his late twenties, srry i love age gap), p in v, smut, breeding kink, daddy kink, pet names

a/n: the last fic was short and a little miserable so here I bring you one from tommy (because I love him) a little longer <3 I hope you enjoy it, sorry for the spelling mistakes, english is not my first language!

Thomas always wanted you, ever since you were a cute and naive girl. Since you walked through the town in your flowered dress, which gently rose up every time you ran or played. Or since when you visited his house, looking for his sister Ada to play or do homework. 

He watched you as you talked about boys with Ada, wishing you would stop naming other stupid boys and just think about him. Oh, he hated it so much when he heard you talk about others and not him. 

Although you didn't know it, you were his. Only his. And in that way he took the trouble to scare away any boy who wanted to get close to you, because you were his. In case he didn't notice and saw a boy with you, even a classmate of yours, talking to you or just being close to you, he would send the one of the Peaky Blinders to scare him and threaten him that he shouldn't approach you. 

For your part, you didn't understand why the boys didn't approach you, or sometimes they looked at you with fear. You were a good girl to everyone, you never did anything wrong against anyone, and it seemed strange to you that everyone didn't seem to have the guts to approach you. 

One day you talked about this with Ada, she told you that they might find you a very pretty girl and were afraid that you would reject them. But you didn't buy that opinion, and you were left with doubt. 

Thomas listened to that conversation, and was proud to see that no one approached his girl. 

At the same time, you were hiding a little secret that no one knew, not even Ada. You were in love with his brother, with Thomas. And who doesn't? He was a sexy man, all the women died for him, and you felt lucky when he spoke to you or sat next to you at lunch those days when you stayed at the Shelby's house.

But you thought there was no chance of him hanging out with you, since you always saw him with other women, fucking any prostitute. You felt jealous, and a little sad too. 

But Thomas only had encounters with women because he had to satisfy his needs while you were out of his reach. Even if he was fucking other women, he would always think about you, about how your body would look below his, how your hips would collide while his cock was thrust into your little virgin cunt again and again. He would also masturbate, thinking that the hands that wrapped around his big size were yours, or imagining your pretty little mouth being violated while you took it all in. He was a little fanciful sometimes. 

He promised to wait for you, he fucking promised, but he just couldn't hold back any longer. He had to have you and claim you as his, brand you with the name Thomas Shelby. So now his promise was to wait until your next birthday, when you would turn 17. 

He knew that you were a virgin, -since there was a reason he chased men away from you-, so he wanted that night to be pleasant. He would give you your birthday gift, one that you would really enjoy.

One day before your birthday, he noticed that Ada was baking a cake for you. "She will be with us tonight for her birthday." That was what she said when he asked her about the cake, although he knew well the reason for that dessert. 

After that, he went around the city looking for a nice gift for you. Nothing expensive or luxurious, since he knew you didn't like those things. Something simple and kind-hearted would catch your attention and would be enough to pamper you. 

He bought you a cute and delicate necklace, along with a bouquet of flowers. He was feeling like a man completely lost for you, for your innocence, innocence that he wishes to corrupt. 

He kept your gift in his office for the time being, as he still had work to do regarding the business. The whole time he was sitting at his desk, analyzing documents and signing unimportant papers, he was thinking about how you would look tonight, how your moans will sound, how pretty you will look underneath him, begging for more, for his cock. He was already getting hard just imagining your face of pure pleasure and excitement when you reached your first orgasm, caused only by him.

Hours later, after finishing all his paperwork and being completely free of work, he headed home, where you would be too. When he walked through the front door, he could hear your soft giggles mixed with the delicious aroma of the food you were cooking with Ada and Polly. 

He disassembled, standing a little close to the kitchen, in the perfect position to see you. You were wearing a beautiful white dress, a symbol of your innocence and purity, the characteristics of your personality that drove him crazy. You looked beautiful with your hair down and long, since you never liked short haircuts. 

None of the three of you saw him, nor did they see the bouquet of flowers or the necklace box that were dedicated to you. It was a little secret. 

He walked up the stairs, entering his room and closing the door behind him. He sighed tiredly, dropping your gift on his bed. It was too much for him to see you in that tight little dress and not be able to grab you, touch you, eat you with kisses. 

He was in his room, imagining the possible scenarios for tonight. He thought about masturbating while, but it was highly inappropriate since you were here. He is a respectful man, only to a point.

A knock on his door interrupted him, standing up from his desk, his cigarette in the side of his mouth. He opened it and found you there, standing in front of him like an angel who just fell from the sky. “Hi, Tommy. We're about to start eating, will you join us?" You said in your sweet little voice, looking adorable as you looked at him with your pretty eyes, those eyes that drove him crazy. "Of course, baby. I'll be with you." He responded, eating you with his eyes. You looked completely delicious in that dress. 

The two of you walked down together to the dining room, the table with food and drinks ready. He sat next to you, clearly, and the evening for your birthday began. 

Arthur told bad jokes, John joined in his game, and Polly scolded them. You and Ada laughed at their jokes, childish smiles covering your faces. Thomas was serious as always, from time to time he would give a low laugh or a little grin would appear on his lips, but he was totally focused on you, on how beautiful and edible you looked. He wanted to eat you and taste you. He swore that you were going to taste better than all the food that was on the table. 

He would put his hand on your thigh sometimes, giving you light caresses, as if anticipating what he was going to do to you. You were blushing hard, biting your lower lip. He did this before, caressing you under the table surreptitiously, but today it felt different. 

Before the clock strikes 12, Polly and Ada bring the cake to the table, placing it in front of you. Arthur was looking for a camera, to the sound of "Where's that bloody shitty camera?!" John laughed, amused at seeing his brother renege. Thomas looked at you, and then at the clock. He had the lighter in hand for the candle on the cake. 

Finally, after a few minutes, it was your birthday. The Shelby's sang with you while you blew out the candle, Arthur taking pictures of you with the camera he was looking for and John trying to ruin your face on the cake. Of course he didn't because Polly scolded him, and Ada put too much effort into the cake to ruin it. 

When they came up to greet you and hug you, Thomas was the last to do so. He approached gently, getting close to you. "Happy birthday, baby. I have a gift for you, but I'm not going to give it to you now." He whispered in your ear with his deep, masculine voice, filling your nostrils with his intoxicating aroma. You nodded at his words, looking at him anxiously.  

You were nervous to death, thinking and imagining the gift he had for you. You already had an idea of what it could be, of course, as Thomas has shown more and more the intentions he has for you. Getting closer to you, giving you light caresses when no one was looking. Sneaky but at the same time so predictable. 

After eating cake and Arthur having had a few drinks, babbling nonsense and making the whole family and you laugh, everyone decided to go to sleep. Polly said goodbye to each one with a kiss on the forehead, wishing them good night. John was trying to help Arthur guide him to his room, but the man was so drunk and dumb that he couldn't stand up. You and Ada laughed in amusement at his condition. And Thomas was serious, as always, but this time he wasn't the first to enter his room and lock himself up for the night. No, he waited until Ada was distracted to grab your arm and whisper in your ear. "When Ada falls asleep, come to my room. Understand, babe?" He said quietly.

Now all your blood has risen to your cheeks. You and him, at dawn, alone. It was so obvious what he wanted to do to you, how he wanted to take you. And you bit your lips from nerves, from desire. How long have you waited for this, for him, and were you finally going to have it? Plus, on your birthday. It was going to be a memorable day. 

God, you have heard my prayers, you said internally. 

You walked into Ada's room, looking a little different. She asked you why you seemed so nervous, like waiting for something. You only responded that you were very happy for your birthday and that was enough to convince her. The two of you chatted for a couple of minutes, exchanging giggles from time to time. In your mind you were just praying that Ada would feel tired soon so you could receive your surprise. A few moments later, you heard a yawn from her and she suddenly said she wanted to sleep. Thank you God, you have heard me for the second time.

Both of you lay properly on the bed, with your pajamas on. You said goodnight and turned your backs to sleep. You were waiting patiently for Ada to close her eyes and fall into a deep sleep to leave. You had your eyes open and your mind busy imagining and imagining so you wouldn't fall asleep too. And, like God's third act, a soft but sure snore emerged from her. 

Gently and quietly, you got out of bed and walked out of the room. The wood creaked under your feet with each step you took in the hallway, heading towards the lion's den. You opened Thomas's bedroom door without warning. And you saw him.

He was sitting on his bed, his legs slightly open with his elbows resting on his knees while in his hands he had a bouquet of flowers. On his nightstand, a small velvet box lay. Thomas looked up at the creak of the door, a slight, mischievous smile on his lips. "Ada took a while to fall asleep, eh?" he teased in a low, husky tone of voice. 

You blushed softly, closing the door behind you and standing a few feet away from him. He gave a nasal laugh and stood up from the edge of the bed, approaching you. You had to lift your head a little to look at him properly. "Happy birthday, baby..." he whispered softly, holding the bouquet of flowers in his hands. You smiled sweetly, taking the bouquet and looking happily at the gift he had for you. "Oh, Tommy... it wasn't necessary..." you murmured, looking adoringly at Thomas and the bouquet. 

"It's not the only gift I have for you, love..." he said with a mischievous smile, moving away from you a little to grab the velvet box. "Turn around." He demanded as he approached back. You still had the bouquet in your hands as you turned around, feeling his body stand behind you. Cold metal made contact with the skin of your neck and you saw Thomas's fingers holding a necklace. You stifled a gasp, admiring the metal thread. 

You grabbed the necklace with your hand, smiling contently. You noticed that the letters "TS" were written on the necklace pendant. 

“This is proof that you're mine now, baby…”He whispered in your ear, gently caressing the sides of your body. “You are totally mine, my love. Until the end of the world you're going to be, do you understand, baby?" He manipulated your little head, leaving soft kisses behind your ear. 

And like the good girl you were, you nodded softly, letting yourself be carried away by his pretty words. "I want to make you mine right now, will you allow me, my love?" he asked softly. And again, your little head nodded, allowing him to finally use you. 

He turned you around, making you look into his eyes. He gently grabbed your cheek, bringing his lips to yours and kissing you sweetly. This was your first kiss and he wanted you to enjoy it and remember it in a good way. His tongue barely touched your lips, tempting you to more of him. 

With a gentle grip on your waist, he laid you down on his bed, pulling you under him as you kissed over and over again. He became addicted to your lips, wanting to have his taste attached to yours. His hands caressed your thighs under your pajama shorts, squeezing your delicious flesh a little. 

"Will you allow me, baby?" He whispered in your ear, lacing his fingers in the hem of your cotton t-shirt, asking if he could take it off. With a slight nod, you let your torso be exposed. He was dazzled by your tummy and your pretty breasts that he wanted to squeeze and kiss so much. He did so, leaning his head to your chest and removing your bra, throwing it to the floor. He gently licked the tip of your breast, stimulating the other with his hand. You let out a soft moan, closing your eyes and grabbing his hair, enjoying the new pleasure. 

He played with your nipples a little longer, playing like a little child. "They're so cute, my love. I hope to see them more often..." he teased, giving them one last kiss before lowering his lips to your tummy, letting his breath hit your pelvis covered by the shorts.  

“You can, Tommy. Please do it." You whispered, eager to feel his touches down there, on your virgin cunt. He looked at you softly as he cupped your cheeks. "No more Tommy, my love. From now on, you will call me Daddy every time we are together. Understand, baby?" *That fucking nickname was so provocative for you.* 

“Understood, Daddy." you obeyed, smiling a little, looking adorable, like a sweet, innocent girl. His sweet, innocent girl. 

"That's what I like to hear, pretty baby." He said proudly with a slight smile, placing a kiss on your belly. He gently grabbed the hem of your shorts, and without asking you -since he knew you would say yes- he lowered your garment, leaving you in your panties. 

"So cute, so innocent." He whispered softly, lightly caressing your pussy through the cotton fabric. He admired how you looked so sweet and innocent in just your panties, below him, in his total control. Your breathing hitched a little as you felt his fingers there, biting your lips gently. "Don't be shy, pretty baby." He teased, grabbing your hips. "There will be many more moments to come where I will see you like this." He calmed you down, using his soft, pretty words. 

You calmed down at his touch, although you did get a little nervous. He continued with his work, playing with your covered cunt, smiling a little. He liked to tease you, watching you squirm and moan like a needy kitten. He was just touching you a little to test the waters and then start with what he had planned. 

While he touched you, he felt how you became wetter and how your moans increased, and he decided to leave you. "Do you want it now, pretty baby?" He asked you with a wicked smile on his lips, looking at you as you heard the sound of his belt unbuckling. 

You were a little dizzy by his fingers, but you still nodded softly, letting him finally take you. You felt him rise again, making you able to look at his face. You saw how he took off his shirt, throwing it on the floor, showing his naked and perfect torso, with scratches and tattoos. He smiled as he noticed your gaze. "Do you like it, little girl? This is yours now, you can look at it as many times as you want." He whispered, as he took off his pants. 

He was totally naked now, showing off his large erection. He stroked it a little, while he continued looking at your little body, licking his lips and thinking a lot of scenarios with you. 

"You're driving me crazy, baby..."  

He approached you, letting his tip just touch your entrance, feeling you gasp and close your eyes. His cock was big, and you expected it to hurt. "I'm going in now, okay? It's going to hurt a little, but you'll get used to it, baby." He murmured. Gently, he gave the first push, causing only the tip to enter. You moaned, grabbing the bed sheets and biting your lip.  

"Good, baby... you'll get used to it." He whispered, giving you gentle caresses on your hip to soothe your pain.

You felt him start to go deeper and deeper, making you close your eyes and moan, feeling full when everything finally entered. "It's big..." you whispered softly. He laughed softly. "It is, but you just need to stretch out to enjoy it." 

 After a few seconds, he started to move. Going out a little and going in again, all slowly and gently so as not to hurt you. You felt those pushes like the sky, closing your eyes and moaning slightly, opening your little mouth. He enjoyed your countenance, watching you like his movements. 

“I'm going to go a little faster, little girl..." he warned, before giving you a kiss on your neck. Now, his movements began to be faster and more concise, crashing his pelvis against yours, filling you so well. He heard your moans and saw how you squirmed, making him smile. Meanwhile, he whispered nice words in your ear, caressing your breasts with one hand and holding your hip with the other. 

"Such a good girl, taking Daddy's cock so well. Who thought you were a virgin, huh, baby?" He whispered, slamming his hips precisely against yours, giving you more and more pleasure. 

You were so dizzy, feeling how his fat cock filled you and made you feel so good. You smiled like a fool at his whispers, and moaned uncontrollably. You felt like his movements were too much, and that the knot in your stomach was already going to explode. Thomas knew you were going to come, and he smiled. "Cum for Daddy, little girl. Do it, do it for your daddy." He whispered in your ear, making his thrusts even stronger as he felt like he was going to cum too. 

"Would you like Daddy to leave his cum in you, pretty baby? For Daddy to fill you with his essence?" You nodded, moaning softly. Soon, you felt your legs shake, his cock thrust too hard, and your knot exploded. You moaned loudly, letting your liquid come out. You also heard Thomas' grunt in your ear, and his cum filling you. 

"Good little girl... you were a good baby, you know that?" He whispered in your ear, as he pulled out of you and let his liquids mix and come out of your entrance together, creating an image worth seeing. "Look at that... it's perfect, baby."  

He noticed that you were tired from what happened. He took you in his arms and laid down gently next to you, holding you close to his body. He enjoyed having you so much, watching you moan and pant for him. It made him feel like a king.  

"Sleep, pretty baby... you deserve a rest after being a good girl for Daddy..." he whispered in your ear. He planted a soft kiss on your little head, stroking your hair and letting you fall asleep. 

You fell asleep like a baby in his strong, comfortable arms, dreaming about him. This was definitely your best birthday. 

#cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #smut #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x reader #fanfic #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby smut #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby smut #peaky blinders fic

[coco-loco-nut]

Guilty as Sin?

pairing: Oscar x Reader

summary: you can’t help but to long for the Australian boy you met

a/n: sorry it took a while, i was adding ✨plot✨ and did as much research I could

masterlist ttpd masterlist

———————

Being the younger twin sister of the heir apparent to the throne is stressful, but it has allowed you to do a lot of things, such as attending the Dutch Grand Prix. Obviously you were there to support Max and meet all the Athletes, but it’s where you met and befriended Oscar. The Australian was nice and didn’t treat you any different because of your status, not to mention he was cute.

Since then, there’s been a shift in your mood. You are bored more than ever, the guilded cage of the castle that contains you is no longer fine. You text Oscar about it, requesting a song recommendation to change things up, he sends you a song that you haven’t heard in a while. It makes you want to cry, the idea of being stuck here forever until your sister marries and has children. For now you are stuck in the castle, pining over a guy who only knows you via texts.

Lately your dreams have been of cracking the locks that keep you in. When you escape you’d go on adventures with Oscar, crashing into him like the ocean waves crash onto rocks. Each dream leaves you longing for him more and more.

You can’t tell if he is just being cordial and politely responding, or if he is interested and flirting. Every time you flirt, things seem to get cold after. He’s a paradox over text, leaving you wondering if you are mad for thinking there was a chance.

You turn to your older sister for advice, telling her about what he does to you in your dreams. Secret trysts in the hedge maze, messy kisses, hands roaming each other’s skin. You keep recalling things you never did, as if he’s written mine on your upper thigh. You’d die happy if it were real.

“You know, there’s no such thing as bad thoughts, only your actions talk. I’ll talk to Papa about maybe going to Spain for a race in couple months,” Amalia says, invested in how this will play out.

You go on a few dates with various wealthy and noble guys your age, trying to distract yourself from the longings locked inside a vault deep inside you. Every date leaves you unsatisfied, counting down the days until you are in Spain. The fatal fantasies visit you in your dreams every night, leaving you feel like you’ve made a vow to Oscar that you are supposed to uphold somehow, despite knowing it’s all make believe.

You and Amalia fly out to Spain without the rest of your family, spending the week with the Spanish royal family. You are friends with the princesses and their cousins so it is a great distraction.

“Y/n, who is your favorite driver?” Leonor and Sophia ask as you lay on the floor of Leonor’s room together.

“Oscar,” Amalia answers for you as your cheeks flame. “She’s always texting him,”

“Amalia,” you groan, hiding your face with your hands.

“We are definitely stopping by the McLaren garage then,” Sophia grins, nudging you. Their cousins Irene, Miguel, Pablo, and Victoria arrive tomorrow morning to complete your group that is attending the Grand Prix. You had a crush on Miguel growing up, but it quickly passed once you turned 15.

“Girls, it’s time for Amalia and Y/n to return to their hotel, and the four of you have to be up early for tomorrow,” Queen Letizia says, opening the door slightly.

“Alright, we will see you tomorrow for breakfast and the driver reception,” Leonor sighs as the four of you stand up.

“Thank you for having us,” Amalia thanks the queen as you leave.

“You are always welcome, we will see you girls tomorrow,” she smiles, making sure her assistant gets you to the chauffeured car safely. The trip from Palauet Albéniz to your hotel is relatively short, one you didn’t realize was housing multiple drivers. You don’t notice Oscar as you walk into the hotel, a small security escort around you, but he notices you. He’s tempted to text you and ask why you are here, but Lando distracts him, giving him his room key and number.

Your room is plush, but lonely. You stare at your texts with Oscar, tempted to let him know you are in Spain, but something stops you. The morning is busy, your alarm waking you up early to shower and dress. You choose something simple but beautiful for the day. Your light blue dress lays nicely on you with matching heels, and your hair is styled neatly, a headband in place of a tiara. Your visit isn’t a state visit, so it is nice to have flexibility in your attire. A knock on your door tells you that Amalia is waiting outside for you.

Once again, you don’t notice Oscar as you leave, your eyes looking ahead, surrounded by the security detail.

“Your girlfriend is here,” Lando teases Oscar, noticing who he was looking at.

“She’s a princess, I would never be able to date her. She flirts over text, but I don’t want to hurt her,” Oscar sighs, watching you get into a car and leave.

“I think you already have,” Lando says, letting Oscar think.

You arrive to the palace, eager to see your friends again. Breakfast is wonderful, and afterwards you all go outside to the gardens to catch up. Despite only seeing each other every few years, your group chat is alive and well.

“Go talk to Miguel, he’s been eyeing you since breakfast,” Sophia tells you, you look over to her cousin. He has aged well since you last saw him. “Ask him about school, oceanography,” she nudges you in his direction.

“Oceanography? How’s that?” you slide up beside Miguel, deciding it’s a good idea to try and move on again. You listen enthusiastically as he talks about his studies and living in London.

“What are you studying?” he returns your question.

“History with minors in French and German. Nothing terribly exciting,” you say, a slight blush appearing on your face as he focuses on you. The two of you unconsciously separate from the group, caught up in conversation. Victoria and Irene grab the two of you, informing you that it is time to go back inside for the drivers welcome and lunch. Miguel’s hand rests lightly on the small of your back as you walk up the stairs.

“We will wait for you at lunch,” Pablo says to Leonor and Sophia, the six of you ready to find something to do as the drivers arrive from their hotels.

“No, join us. Mama and Papa would want you there,” Leonor says so you follow her in. The six of you stand a few behind the four royals, following royal protocol in that regard. You are chatting with Irene and Miguel quietly when the drivers walk in.

“Accompany me to the Opera tonight,” Miguel says quickly, you nod and blush a little before turning you attention to the drivers, eyes instantly meeting Oscar’s, your blush deepens a little before you put on your royal mask. It doesn’t matter if your date with Miguel goes well or not, deep down you know that you’d drop him for Oscar immediately if asked. One by one, the drivers are introduced before you are allowed to mingle before lunch.

“Your Royal Highnesses,” Max bows before you and Amalia as the two of you approach him.

“Max, it’s wonderful to see you again. Please don’t bow, you only need to in formal situations,” you smile, greeting the champion.

“Yes, no need to bow when we aren’t here formally visiting. We will be cheering for you this weekend,” Amalia says and you notice Oscar standing nearby.

“Excuse me,” you excuse yourself from the conversation, Max takes no offense as he sees you beeline to the Australian, Amalia continues her conversation with Max. It would be a bad look for the heir apparent to brush off her own countryman.

“Y/n! What are you doing here?” Oscar asks happily, unsure if he can hug his friend, acting like he didn’t know she was here.

“Surprise visit. I didn’t want to wait until the Dutch Grand Prix to see my friend again, and I wanted to visit my friends. My sisters and I are close with the princesses and their cousins, but Amalia and I were the only ones who flew out since we like the sport. Sorry, I’m rambling,” you laugh nervously.

“That’s okay, it’s cute,” Oscar says with a cute smile, not quite realizing what he was saying.

“Thanks, that means a lot coming from you,” you can’t openly flirt with the Australian here, but you do your best.

“I’m sorry, Lando is beckoning me to him, visit me in the McLaren garage, yeah?” Oscar asks.

“I’d love to,” you smile, watching him go to his teammate. You rejoin your sister and Max, effortlessly sliding into the conversation. You can tell Leonor had a hand in the lunch seating because she placed you between Oscar and Max, Amalia was on the other side of max. Carlos and Fernando were sat near the King and Queen.

“Y/n, how does this work? I’ve never been to a royal meal before,” Oscar discreetly asks you.

“Follow the pattern for who to speak to, It will be dictated by the king, for everything else just follow my lead. King Felipe is a slower eater so you should have time to finish your meal, and this is more laid back than a state dinner. If I were wearing a tiara, you’d be in trouble,” you joke, Oscar seems relieved at your explanation. You turn to Max first, discussing the race and things he misses about the Netherlands. Once the meal is served, you turn to Oscar.

“This is a lot less stressful than what I imagined,” Oscar smiles, having trusted your quick overview of what to do, one he just shared with Lando.

“Not every meal is full of such protocol, usually just for guests and important meals. You should’ve told me you’d be here, I could’ve answered your questions. I only thought that Carlos and Fernando would be here,” you admit and he shrugs, balancing his talking and eating.

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of it. Sometimes I forget you are third in line to the throne,” you scrunch you nose, cringing a little.

“Don’t remind me,” you laugh a bit so he knows you are joking. “Where are they housing you?” you ask, taking a bite of food.

“The Hotel Arts,” Oscar says, ready to act surprised when you say where you are staying.

“Ah, Mr Fancy Pants. Living it up like royalty, I see,” you smirk, glancing around the table to make sure you are eating at the right pace.

“I take it you are staying there as well then,” Oscar says, taking the hint.

“Yes, we should get breakfast one morning before you go to the track,” you suggest, a little hope in your heart.

“I’d really like that,” Oscar thinks back on Lando’s words, deciding to take the risk. He’s worried about your life as a princess more than anything that will happen to him if he were to date you.

“Maybe not tomorrow though, I am going to the Opera tonight so I will be nursing a wine hangover,” you appreciate the light and easy conversation you are able to have with Oscar.

“Sounds like a deal, we can play it by ear,” Oscar smiles. The two of you turn your attention to your meals. The rest of the day passes quickly, the drivers having left after the lunch.

You and Amalia go back to the hotel to get ready for the opera. You just finished putting your heels on and securing your tiara when there is a knock on the door.

“Oscar?” you say confused at the Australian standing outside your door.

“I brought wine, figured you’d want to get the party started early. You look stunning, by the way,” He says, inviting himself into the small living room space.

“I thought drivers don’t drink before race weekends,” you smile, carefully sitting beside him.

“One glass won’t hurt,” he pours two glasses, carefully handing you one. It’s a cheaper wine, likely bought from across the street rather than from the bar downstairs.

“I’d also take shots, but wine is nice. Thanks, Osc,” you sip the white wine. Oscar chose a safer choice than a red. You have time before heading down with Amalia where one of the cars will pick you up.

“So why the tiara?”

“The opera is considered a white or black tie event, I don’t remember which it is. Plus, I agreed to go as Miguel’s date so I have to look perfect or else the media will slaughter me,” you sigh, taking a large sip of the wine.

“Oh, that sucks,” Oscar digests the last bit of information.

“He’s a great guy, but I think he’s more of a friend. I have my eye on someone else anyway,” you add on, quickly glancing at Oscar who regains his hope, noticing your glance.

“Any guy would be lucky to have you,” Oscar says as Amalia enters the room.

“Hello, Oscar. Y/n, we have to go, they are close,” she says, the two of you finish your wine.

“Thanks for the glass of wine, good luck tomorrow if I don’t see you,” you press a gentle kiss to his cheek, following Amalia out the door. You trust Oscar to leave once he cleans up the wine.

The opera is nice, and the next two days are fun as you spend time in the paddock. You wake up early to join Oscar for breakfast on the race day.

“Orange? For me?” Oscar grins after you order. You are wearing an orange blouse with white pants and heels. Since it isn’t the Dutch Grand Prix, you have a small pin with a bull and the number one on it attached to your blouse.

“For Max, but also for you,” you smile back.

“It’s actually papaya, I can get McLaren to gift you some stuff,” he says, leaning back in his chair a bit.

“That’s okay, I have enough Red Bull team wear in my closet. I wouldn’t even be allowed in McLaren clothing unless there was a better reason other than being friends with the driver, unfortunately Max takes precedence there. Also, I have money to buy McLaren merch, they are better off gifting merch to other fans,” you say, sipping your water.

“So what can I do to get you to openly support me?” he asks, knowing one of the answers.

“Well, if you get a podium at Zandvoort I can hand you your trophy,” you tell him and he nods.

“I can do that, maybe I will beat Max,”

“Yeah, don’t do that,” your laugh is music to him. The two of you finish your breakfast, both having obligations to attend to. You and Amalia arrive to the paddock together, only joining the Spanish royals for the actual race.

“Welcome to Red Bull, Your Royal Highnesses,” a hospitality employee greets you as you enter the garage.

“Hello, Max,” Amalia greets the driver with a smile.

“Good morning, Your Royal Highnesses. Welcome to our garage,” Max smiles, a girl and a woman with him.

“Maxie, are they real life princesses?” the little girl asks. She pulls at your heartstrings, your royal foundation works with young girls.

“We are, what is your name?” You kneel down as she looks at you with wide eyes, curtsying.

“Penelope,”

“Hi Penelope, my name is Y/n. You curtsied beautifully, but there is no need to curtsy to a friend,” you tell her, glancing up at Max and the woman who you assume is her mother.

“This is Kelly, my girlfriend, and her daughter, Penelope,” Max introduces them to you.

“Would you like a picture, Penelope?” Amalia asks, the little girl nods.

“That’s my big sister, she’s going to be a queen one day,” you tell Penelope as if it’s a secret.

“Can I, Mommy? I want Maxie in it too,” Penelope asks, when Kelly agrees, you carefully pick up Penelope. Both Red Bull and Kelly take photos. You chat with the group until you realize there isn’t too long until you will have to join the royal family, so you excuse yourself to walk a few garages down.

“Can I help you?” someone in papaya stops you from going too close.

“Yes, I’m here to visit my friend, Oscar,” you start, looking into the garage.

“Y/n! You made it,” Oscar wraps an arm around your shoulder, guiding you inside.

“I don’t believe we’ve met, Princess. My name is Lando Norris of the United Kingdom,” Oscar’s teammate extends his hand, you find the childish antic amusing. You give him your hand, he bows slightly, lightly kissing the back of your hand.

“The pleasure is mine, Mr. Norris,” you giggle, feeding into the antics. Oscar went from worried to amused in those thirty seconds.

“Alright, she’s my friend, not yours. Find your own princess to hog,” Oscar pulls you away, his smile betraying his annoyed tone. You get some silly pictures together, and he puts his helmet on you before one photo.

“I could totally drive one of these,” you say, lying to see his reaction.

“When we get to the Netherlands, I’m racing you in karts and taking you on a hot lap then,” Oscar laughs as your eyes widen.

“Bring it on,” you don’t back down. Oscar could kiss you right now, but he never did ask about how your date to the opera went, so he doesn’t.

“Oscar, I’d like my sister to be returned, please,” Amalia says, walking over to the two of you.

“Oscar, I found my princess!” Lando grins, Amalia’s confused reaction causes you to snort and Oscar to laugh.

“She’s off limits to you, Lando. You aren’t king material,” you tell him, gently patting his shoulder.

“But Oscar is prince material?” Lando asks. Amalia drags you out of the garage before either of you can reply.

The race is exciting and you watch eagerly.

“Who is your favorite driver?” Pablo asks, watching from beside you.

“Politically, Max. Personally, Oscar Piastri, he’s a close friend,” you say, watching the track as Oscar passes, fighting for P3.

“It’s a shame my brother and you aren’t a match,” he says, referring to the Opera.

“We are better off as friends, something we realized quickly. Once we realized that we weren’t teenagers anymore, the Opera got much better,” you chuckle.

You are aware of the cameras watching your box as the race ends. You and Amalia celebrate carefully, not doing much other than clap and excitedly talk to each other. The podium ended with Carlos winning, Max in P2, and Oscar in P3. Max dropped in the last couple laps, his tires degrading too early.

That night you show up to the club with Irene and Victoria, being the only girls who could go out and not be yelled at. Your black party dress doesn’t leave much to the imagination, but your coat doesn’t let photographers know as you step into the club with them. After checking your coat, you head to the bar where you notice drivers taking shots.

“This round on me,” you tell Irene and Victoria. You order your round and a vodka Red Bull for after the shots.

“Princess! Oscar, your princess is here!” Lando slurs, calling over a slightly less drunk Oscar.

“You look incredible,” his smile causes you to blush. You notice Max and Carlos observing the interaction.

“Shots for the podium! And ladies, and I guess Lando,” you declare, ordering seven shots. You all take them and you are feeling a lot braver at flirting with Oscar.

“What are you drinking?” Oscar asks, standing close to you, his breath warm on your ear.

“Vodka Red Bull,” you tell him, sipping the drink.

“Hey Max, your princess really is your fan. She’s drinking a vodka Red Bull,” Oscar tells the Dutchman.

“It’s a good choice,” Max smiles, unsure how he feels about partying with the third in line to his home country. Carlos, however, has no problems, talking to Irene and Victoria.

“Dance with me,” you tell Oscar as you finish your drink, he follows you onto the dance floor, bodies close. His hands stay on your hips, holding you close but trying to stay respectful. A couple songs later you kiss him, and his hands wrap around you, pulling you into him.

Soon after, you are getting your coat and heading back to your hotel, pulling him into your room. Scenes from nights you’ve spent together flash through your mind, ones where he has you screaming his name, building up like waves and crashing over and over again. His hands roam your skin, bedsheets ablaze, maybe you can be guilty as sin this time.

You wake up in his embrace, his soft snores tell you he’s still asleep. You think about your options. After this weekend, you’ll face criticism anyway, why not go after someone you’ve been pining after. The public will always have opinions about who you date, but the way it feels when Oscar holds you is so right. The only way they will be happy is if you never date or marry until you’re thirty. They don’t know how keeping the crush to yourself haunted you every night, and how he is stunningly perfect.

“What’s going through that pretty mind of yours?” Oscar asks sleepily, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I choose you and me, no matter what the public says,” you whisper, looking in his half awake eyes.

“Finally. I choose us too,” he smiles, pulling you into his chest.

“I still can’t openly support you as opposed to Max,” you smile, Oscar’s eyes open again.

“I will propose right now,” he says, quite seriously. You giggle, running your hand up his chest.

“Don’t, that’s a whole process and a lot of conversations that I don’t feel like going through yet,” you say, feeling Oscar’s chest vibrate as he hums in agreement. He looked up what would happen if he were to marry you one night while texting you. He’d have to become a naturalized citizen, your parents would announce the engagement, then the parliament would have to approve the marriage in order for you to stay a member of the royal household.

Oscar gets up half an hour later, needing to board a plane to Austria with the team. As he waits to taxi, he sends you the link to a song, the same one he sent a couple months ago. The past twenty four hours have been better than any dream. Are you allowed to cry happy tears?

#f1 imagines #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #the tourtured poets department #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen #carlos sainz

[permanentswaps]

Building Each Other Up Pt. 2

Read Pt. 1 here.

Mark's POV

"Fuckkk," I muttered, flexing and feeling up my body and arms. The sensation of Shane being expelled from me, while surprising, actually felt really good—almost like a mental-only orgasm.

Shane, now in my body, was still sitting on the floor, looking up at me with wide, confused eyes. I took a moment to take it all in, before finally looking down at him.

"Shane, you okay?" I asked. “Or should I call you Mark now?” I said with a smile.

He blinked a few times, shaking his head as if to clear it. "What the hell just happened?" he asked, his voice—my voice—definitely a bit angry.

"I don't know, man. This is new for me too. I guess... I guess I pushed you out. Are you alright?" I said.

"No! Dude, what the fuck, why wouldn’t you get out?"

I raised my hands defensively. "I'm sorry, Shane. I didn’t mean to stay that long. I was just having such a good time training, and I wanted to help you out."

His eyes narrowed, frustration evident in his tone. "Well, that fucking sucked to be trapped inside my head for that long.”

"I know, I know," I said, my voice earnest. "I'm really sorry. I got carried away. It won't happen again."

"Okay, do we have any more of the potion on hand? Is that all we need to swap back, you think?" Shane asked, a hint of urgency in his voice.

"Wait, wait, hold on," I said quickly. "You're out now. Why don't we just stay like this for a little bit? I'll keep training in your body, and you can actually enjoy the time off rather than just being locked in your head."

He looked at me, still clearly annoyed but weighing his options. To swap back, he knew he would need to jump into my body and go through that whole process again. And who knows if he’d be able to actually force me out of this sexy body if I didn’t want to leave?

Shane sighed, running a hand through his—my—hair. "Okay," he relented. "But just a few days. And you better not pull any more stunts."

I grinned, trying to lighten the mood. "Scout's honor. Just a few days, I promise. And I’ll keep pushing hard at the gym to make sure you're in the best shape possible for the competition."

Before he could change his mind, I left the gym and walked out to my car and quickly took a few selfies.

---

The next night, I invited Ali over. It had been over a week since we’d last met up, and I was excited to be able to fuck him without Shane being there—it felt more intimate.

I wasn’t entirely sure how Shane felt about the sex part of the arrangement. Usually, if I even hinted at the idea of hooking up with a guy, he’d retreat into his subconscious and not be a part of it. He didn’t have a problem with me doing it per se. I mean how could he, it was his idea first. But I just think he found the whole thing a bit weird to not be in control of. I kind of got off on that back in the day, but I respect that he doesn’t.

But now, this was going to be the third time I’d hooked up with Ali. Maybe Shane would have a problem with me hooking up with the same guy so consistently—he probably wouldn’t want to give Ali the wrong ideas about this body.

Well, the good thing at least is that I’ve only really been messaging Ali on Grindr so far. I had made a profile using Shane’s pics on my own phone so that I could keep the fun going even when I was out of it. I made sure to have a secret backlog of photos too. All that to say, there’s not a huge risk of Shane finding out.

When the doorbell rang, I opened the door to see Ali standing there, looking hotter than ever in his tank top, beads of sweat still glistening from his workout. I could tell he had come straight from the gym, and the sight of his toned muscles and confident stride sent a jolt of excitement through me.

"Hey," he greeted me with a warm smile as he stepped inside. "You look great."

"Thanks, you too," I replied, my eyes drinking in the sight of his fit, athletic body.

We made our way to the living room, and as we settled in, Ali turned to me with a thoughtful expression. "Hey, I was thinking... how about we go on an actual date tonight instead of jumping straight into the hookup?"

I was taken aback. A date? I couldn’t remember the last time I went on a no-kidding date. Usually, the hot bottoms Ali’s age didn’t give my old body that kind of chance. I was more just a fun older fantasy for them—a quick, no-strings-attached daddy thrill.

"An actual date?" I repeated, a mix of surprise and curiosity in my voice.

I hesitated for a moment, processing the words before saying, "Sure, why not? I’d like that."

We went downtown to a movie theater and watched the latest superhero movie. The place was packed, but we managed to get good seats near the back. About halfway through the movie, during a particularly quiet moment, Ali reached over and gently took my hand in his. I glanced over at him, and he gave me a shy smile. Sure we had already fucked, but something about the innocence of the gesture made my heart race.

Later, as the movie progressed, I decided to make a move of my own. I shifted my hand from his and placed it on his muscular thigh, rubbing it up and down. My large hand practically swallowed his thigh, making it look small in comparison. Ali turned to me and grinned, biting his lip.

When the credits rolled and the lights came up, we both stood and stretched, exchanging amused looks as we mimicked the superhero poses we’d just seen on screen. Damn that tank top left nothing to be desired as he flexed his biceps for me.

As we walked back to his place, we joked the whole way there.

"Damn, you're really funny," I said, nudging him playfully with my elbow.

"Thanks," he replied, his eyes twinkling. "I try."

When we reached his apartment building, I turned to him, feeling a bit reluctant to end the night. "I had a really nice time tonight. I really want to do this again sometime."

"Oh yeah, me too," Ali said with a grin. He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. "But we aren't done yet." He opened the door and gestured for me to follow him up to his apartment.

I felt a thrill of excitement as I followed him inside. His apartment was cozy and stylish, and filled with cool travel memorabilia.

"So, what now?" I asked, leaning in closer.

Ali smiled, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Well, we could start by picking up where we left off in the theater."

I didn’t need any more encouragement. I leaned in and kissed him, savoring the taste of his lips and the warmth of his body pressed against mine.

We have a seat on the couch, and Ali wastes no time straddling me. I grab both sides of his waist, guiding him as he grinds on me through our clothes. The friction is intoxicating, and I can feel my dick getting hard, pressing insistently against my jeans.

Ali's hands are all over my pecs, exploring the firm muscles beneath my shirt. "Take it off," he whispers, lifting the fabric and tossing it aside. "Flex for me."

I oblige quickly, flexing my chest muscles, watching his eyes light up with desire. He leans in, moving to the side to lick my hairy pits. He moans, "God, you smell so good."

I grab the back of his head, holding him there with a firm but reassuring grip. The sensation of his tongue against my skin is electric, sending shivers down my spine. Eventually, he lifts his head, his eyes glazed with lust. He stands up, strips down in front of me, and straddles my waist again. This time, he’s naked, and he starts rubbing his hard cock between my pecs.

The feel of his smooth skin and the sight of his cock sliding between my pecs almost makes me lose control right then and there. I’m already on the edge, and I haven’t even entered him yet.

Ali takes off my pants, his fingers grazing my thighs as he pulls them down. He positions himself over my cock, looking down at me with a mix of anticipation and desire.

"You ready, cutie?" I ask, my voice low and husky.

"Yes, sir," he replies, his voice trembling with excitement.

"Good boy," I tell him as he slowly starts to sit, taking in all of my manhood. The tightness and heat around my cock are almost too much to bear. He moves at his own pace, adjusting to my size, and I can see the concentration and pleasure on his face.

He finally settles down completely, and we both let out a groan of satisfaction. I grip his hips firmly, guiding his movements as he starts to ride me. The rhythm builds slowly at first, then faster, more urgent.

"Fuck, you feel so good," I murmur, my hands roaming over his body, caressing his skin.

Ali's hands are braced on my chest, his fingers digging into my muscles as he rides me. "You too, sir," he gasps, his head thrown back in pleasure. "Soooooo fucking good."

I thrust up into him, meeting his movements with powerful strokes. The intensity of the connection between us is overwhelming, and I know I won’t last much longer.

"Come for me," I urge him, my voice rough with need. "Come on, boy."

With a cry, Ali's body tenses, and he spills his load over my chest. The sight and feel of him coming is enough to push me over the edge, and I climax inside him, filling him with everything I’ve got.

We collapse together on the couch, breathing hard and spent. Ali rests his head on my chest, and I wrap my arms around him, holding him close.

"That was amazing," he says after a moment, his voice soft and content.

"Yeah, it was," I agree, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "You were incredible."

He looks up at me with a smile. "So, when can we do this again?"

"Anytime you want," I reply, feeling a rush of happiness. "Anytime you want."

To be continued…

[bunkoos-mole-enthusiast]

Weekly Jungkook Fanfic Recs:

Some fine JK fics for your reading pleasure. Please show your appreciation to all the wonderful authors:) Muse: You were someone that held Jungkook's interest. Clad in satin dresses with a hummingbird tattoo on your skin, you occupied his thoughts, consuming him with a curiosity that toed the line into desire. And so the story goes: a photographer and his muse. https://satnin-darling.tumblr.com/post/655726465013481472/muse-m-one-shot-jeon-jungkook-88k

Bicker: It’s after the Permission to Dance On Stage online concert and it seems that your boyfriend, Jungkook, had left out a few details regarding the performance under the guise of a surprise. Ordinarily, you were surprised, floored in fact, but this doesn’t stop you from bickering over the details https://satnin-darling.tumblr.com/post/666056010064166912/bicker-m-one-shot-jeon-jungkook-37k

Coquet: On your brother's wedding, you dread travelling to see your family whom you have successfully avoided for over a year after moving across the country for work. In an effort to save face, you hire an escort to get them off your back and perhaps even make your ex, who happens to be the best man, jealous. https://shina913.tumblr.com/post/685450287470854144/coquet-series-jjk

Gradation: On your wedding day, your fiancé leaves you at the altar. While reeling from the embarrassment and heartbreak, your best friend, Jungkook, wants to do everything that he can to help you heal. https://shina913.tumblr.com/post/669257860034723840/gradation-series-masterlist

Permission: You get more than what you bargained for during your friend's bachelorette party weekend. https://shina913.tumblr.com/post/710216388356227072/permission-jjk

Burning Bright: There are no secrets in the drift, if Jungkook were to see the mess inside your head and heart, laid utterly bare, he'd turn away from you. Pacific Rim au. https://snackhobi.tumblr.com/post/631929853435854848/pairing-jungkook-x-reader-word-count-74k

Just A Little: “What are you doing,” he asks, lips slightly pouty still, like they’re betraying him. “Just kissing you a little…” he can feel your minty breath on him when you say this. https://www.tumblr.com/soft4gguk/688764281930547200/just-a-little-jjk-drabble

Little Bean: Nothing has been normal for Jungkook since he moved to Seoul to become a trainee as a boy, and yet noticing a beautiful girl in a coffee shop is the most normal thing a young man can do. Asking her out, super normal. Falling in love, totally normal. Everything about Sasha makes him feel normal and important, and yet nothing can ever be truly normal when your relationship has to be secret. https://archiveofourown.org/works/27237484/chapters/66536458

Flux: Tour has ended but life only moves faster as Jungkook prepares for another album and Sasha gets exciting new career opportunities she just can’t say no to. What seems so pure and strong on summer vacation struggles under the onslaught of external pressures, internal demons, and missed connections. How can they ever find stability together when both their lives are so full of churn? And if the currents do tear them apart, how will they find their way back to each other? https://archiveofourown.org/works/33049219/chapters/82034974

Welcome To The Underworld: In a dark little second-hand shop downtown, stuffed in an alleyway you only stumbled into because you were lost, you found a charming antique radio. When you turned it on, it began to play what would become your favorite radio show, “Welcome to the Underworld”

**“Good evening, hellions and harpies, this is your host, JK. For those who are new here, do your best to hold on to the scraps of your sanity and Welcome to the Underworld” ** https://archiveofourown.org/works/21759436

#bts jeon jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic recs #jungkook imagines #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #bts fanfic #bts jungkook fanfic #bts fic recs #bts smut #bts imagines

[simplybakugou]

omg I saw you post about wanting dad!Bakugo ideas and tbh I have so many but I don't wanna be greedy or overwhelming so here's one <3 Dad!Bakugo when you get caught sneaking out. He assumes the worst- thinking you were out drinking, partying, something like that (y/n would be like.. 14-16 or somethin, yknow?) But in reality you were just sneaking out to go to the 24/7 ramen place down the street with your secret partner who you haven't told your dad about bc they're the same gender as you <3 It's a lot, I completely understand if ya aren't interested in writing it <33 I just think it would be a really cute and emotional but also amusing and heartfelt idea that I would love to read but can't find the motivation to write </3 Love your work!!!!

⋆ PAIRING: dad!bakugou x fem!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: swearing; teeniest tiniest bit of angst; fluff; talks of being closeted ⋆ WORD COUNT: 3492

A/N: not me writing two works in 2024 back to back?! crazy omg. also i decided to make y/n bakugou’s s/o and not his child as that’s what i’m most comfortable writing about. hope that’s okay! also please feel free to send as many dad!bakugou ideas you want cause i’ve been wanting to write as many as i can. sorry if the ending is awkward i had some trouble finishing it :( tysm for requesting and i hope you enjoy :)

© simplybakugou — all rights reserved. DO NOT REPOST/REUPLOAD, TRANSLATE, OR EDIT ANY OF MY CONTENT ON HERE OR ANY PLATFORM

“Fuck,” Bakugou cursed to himself, setting the knife down and grabbing a paper towel to tend to the small cut he had just accidentally put onto his index finger. Your home was filled with a savory aroma as Bakugou’s cooked dinner as he did every night.

“Are you alright, Katsuki?” You asked from the dining room, averting your eyes from your laptop and peering into the kitchen to check on your husband. 

“I’m fine. It’s just a small cut,” Bakugou called out, grabbing and applying a band-aid from the cabinet and onto his finger. Afterwards he went back to the task at hand. “Where’s Suki?” 

“She’s upstairs, I think she’s showering. Apparently they were working on training their quirks in U.A. and she said she felt disgusting,” you responded, reverting your attention back to the work you had left on your laptop. 

“So they’re already training their quirks? I need to train with her more then.” Bakugou turned the stove off as he moved tonight’s dinner to a singular dish. He went over to the dining table where you were seated to set the table.

You furrowed your brows at him. “Katsuki, she trains enough at U.A., not to mention you train with her after she comes back from school too. You’ll overwork her if you do even more than that.”

“She needs the training. She has to get stronger if she wants to get better.” Bakugou spoke to you while walking back and forth from the kitchen to the dining table as he placed all of his dishes down for his family to share. “She’s gonna get her provisional license soon and I don’t want her to fail like I fucking did.”

“I understand, but you’re being too hard on yourself and on her,” you said, shaking your head at your husband who has a tendency to overwork himself. 

“If she’s gonna be the best, she has to be better than me. And I’m gonna make sure she’s a hundred times better than I ever was in U.A.,” Bakugou stated adamantly as he sat himself across from you.

You sighed, closing your laptop and setting it aside so you could eat. “You’re impossible, you know that?” 

Bakugou smirked as he was about to let out a snarky comment until Suki walked downstairs, a towel in hand as she was still drying her ash blonde. 

You smiled at the sight of your daughter. “Suki! You’re just in time for dinner.”

Suki stopped as she took in her parents at the dining table and the giant spread of food Bakugou had prepared. “Oh, I thought I told you guys I wasn’t that hungry today…”

Bakugou whipped his head around to look at his daughter. “No you fucking didn’t.”

“Whoops,” Suki said, laughing cautiously as she rubbed the nape of her neck with her hand. “I’m kinda tired from all the training today so I think I’m just going to head to bed.”

You frowned. “Are you sure? Maybe eat just a little, sweetie.”

Suki shook her head. “It’s okay, Mom. I’ll be fine.” She turned to her father. “And I’m sorry, Dad. I know you worked hard to make all of this.”

Bakugou sighed. “It’s fine. Pay me back with training right after you get back from school tomorrow.”

Suki winced but nodded reluctantly for her father’s sake. “Alright.” She turned around and made her way upstairs as she called out, “I’m going to bed. Good night!”

“Good night, sweetie!” You called back out to her. You averted your attention to the delicious spread in front of you, once again thankful for having a husband who could cook so well and alleviate you from the burden of having to do so. 

“That shitty kid needs to eat more,” Bakugou grumbled, shoving his homemade meal into his mouth in the process. “She’s not gonna get stronger if she doesn’t eat well.”

“I agree with you there. At least with the eating more part.” You took a sip of water. “I hope she’s doing okay. You don’t think she’s overwhelmed at school and she’s just not telling us, right?”

“She’s fine, you’re worrying too fucking much, Y/N.” He glanced back at the stairs before eating again despite his statement. He didn’t want to say it aloud as he knew you would start freaking out but he was also concerned. Bakugou always wanted what’s best for his daughter who was inspired by her pro hero father to become a pro hero herself. When Suki expressed her interest in becoming a pro, Bakugou had to physically hold himself back in a way to not overwhelm her with how excited he was with the news. And you could see it yourself. You saw the way Bakugou perked up and seemed more enthusiastic, in his own way of course, every time Suki asked for training advice or told Bakugou about her day at school. You loved and admired their bond and how much closer they were getting the more she developed her quirk and skills. 

You leaned back, patting your full stomach. “That was delicious, Katsu.” You stood up with your empty plate in one hand and patted his head with your other. Bakugou glared at you as he stood and cleared the table. 

You went over to the sink to wash the dishes, intent on putting your share of the housework as Bakugou cooked only to be lightly pushed out of the way as Bakugou began to wash the dishes. 

“Katsuki!” You exclaimed. “You always do this. I’m supposed to be the one who cleans up when you cook.”

You attempted to push him back but unsurprisingly he didn’t budge as he ignored you and continued to clean. “Oh, shut it. Just go finish your paperwork over there.”

“Fine,” you huffed as you sat back down at the dining table. Instead of finishing your paperwork you sat begrudgingly in your seat with your laptop in your lap as you waited for Bakugou so the two of you could go to bed together. 

Thankfully with Bakugou being Bakugou, he was finished in no time and the two of you went upstairs to get some sleep. 

As you were situating yourself in bed, Bakugou stood in front of Suki’s room. He knocked on her door and the absence of a response prompted Bakugou to open the door slowly. He poked his head in and saw Suki fast asleep with her lights still on. He smiled softly at the sight of his sleeping daughter and even though he knew he was tough on her, he knew she was working hard to prove to him how she will become an incredible hero.

“Katsuki, are you coming?” You called from your room.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bakugou responded as he turned Suki’s light off and closed her door. 

The alarm blaring from her phone jolted Suki awake. She quickly turned it off, hoping it didn’t wake her parents in the same manner as it did her. The time on her phone read 3:30 AM as Suki slipped out of bed. She quickly changed out of her pajamas and into sweatpants and a sweater and tiptoed out of her room. 

Suki glanced over at yours and Bakugou’s bedroom door, thankful as it was closed shut. Sometimes Bakugou would sleep with the door cracked open slightly as he was convinced he would be able to hear anybody sneaking in if anyone attempted to rob your home or attack his family. You would call him crazy and usually waited for him to fall asleep before closing the door all the way in which Suki was ecstatic that you did so that day as well. 

Suki made her way down to the front door and took her keys and her jacket and left her home. She grabbed her bicycle that was propped on the side of the house and began making her way down the road. She shivered as the cold winter air hit her face as she rode her bike, her eyes watering as they searched for one particular person.

Suki smiled once she spotted who she was meeting at 3:30 AM on a school night.

“Took you long enough!” Yui, Suki’s girlfriend, called out from her respective bike. 

Suki grinned at her girlfriend and stopped her bike beside her. “Are you sure this place is open 24/7?”

Yui nodded. “They just opened up. Did your old man catch you?”

Suki shook her head. “I even skipped dinner and I’m starving now.”

Suki knew she wasn’t supposed to be out so late but she couldn’t help it; she missed her girlfriend. In addition, during the day she was busy at U.A. and afterwards she would train with her father. In the evening she’d have to keep up with her studies and her homework, making it almost impossible to spend time with her partner. Not to mention, Suki still hadn’t come out to you or Bakugou.

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust either of you but there was a small, miniscule feeling Suki had in the back of her mind that made her fear your reactions to having a girlfriend. Thankfully, unlike Yui’s parents, you and Bakugou never mentioned or questioned if Suki had a boyfriend, but she knew Bakugou especially would disapprove of anything that would divert her attention from her training and studies.

“Come on, let’s go!” Yui exclaimed and the two girls continued down the road to the ramen shop.

Bakugou woke up feeling immobilized. In an attempt to go to the bathroom, Bakugou tried to get up but couldn’t do so as you were literally holding him down in your sleep. Your arm was wrapped around his torso, your leg over his thighs, and your cheek was pressed against his chest. In moments like these he blamed you for making him feel sore in the morning. 

“Y/N,” Bakugou said softly as he quite literally peeled you off of his body. He was successful and he laughed once he heard you groaning in your sleep as you turned the other way.

Bakugou went to the bathroom and just as he was on his way back to his room to fall back asleep right beside you, he noticed Suki’s door was ever so slightly left open. He knew she always criticized him for leaving his door open so he knew something was up immediately.

Bakugou went over to Suki’s door, knocking once again just as he did before going to sleep earlier and again there was no response. He pushed the door open, furrowing his brows at the sight of what was supposed to be Suki’s body under her covers but Bakugou was too clever to fall for something so simple. He walked closer to her bed and pulled back the covers, not surprised to see two pillows that were formed to imitate her body.

“She fucking snuck out,” Bakugou muttered angrily to himself. He threw the blanket back onto the bed and went back to his bedroom where you were sleeping. He shook you awake. “Y/N, wake up.”

You woke up frighteningly, sitting upright. “What? What’s wrong?” You asked confused and tired. 

“Suki’s not here.”

“What?!” You exclaimed, immediately jumping out of bed and running to Suki’s room to check. You turned back to Bakugou. “Do you think she was abducted? Or kidnapped? Oh no, do you think one of those villains you fought came back for revenge?! Our poor baby–”

“Y/N, calm down,” Bakugou said, placing his hands on your shoulders. “She’s not kidnapped. That little shit snuck out.”

“What? There’s no way Suki would sneak out, Katsuki.”

“She put her pillows under the covers to make it look like she was sleeping.”

“But… why would she do that?” You questioned. This was completely unlike Suki, which made you ponder even more about her motive. Usually if she wanted to go anywhere or do anything, she would ask you or Bakugou for permission in which, most of the time, you both would say yes. 

“Who fucking knows. She’s probably out drinking or partying. She’s fifteen for fucks sake.”

“I don’t know, Katsu, I don’t think she’s the type to do something like that. The only possibility that makes sense is…” You thought about it some more until it finally hit you. “Maybe she’s seeing a boy!”

“A what?” 

“Come on, it’s the only thing that makes sense. I don’t think she’s the type to go out drinking.”

“I’d rather her go to a party than be alone with a boy this fucking late.” Bakugou clenched his fists at the thought. “I’m gonna go find her.”

“Wait!” Bakugou ignored you as he continued downstairs, grabbing his coat and throwing his shoes on. “Don’t go out and use your quirk.”

“Why the fuck not? It’s the fastest way to get to her.”

You sighed hopelessly at your husband. “It’s 4 AM, Katsu, your explosions will wake up the whole neighborhood. Just take the car.”

“I hate that fucking piece of shit,” Bakugou grumbled. “Fine.”

“And take this, too.” You tossed his phone that you had quickly grabbed, which he caught with ease. “Call me when you find her.”

Bakugou felt himself getting more and more impatient as he drove in circles around his neighborhood. He knew Suki couldn’t have gone far as he noticed her bike was missing. He checked her friends’ houses that he was aware of for any signs of partying and checked every convenience store nearby as he knew Suki loved them. Bakugou cursed at his daughter internally as she had also turned off her location on her phone. The last place left to check was the new ramen shop that had just opened and you had begged Bakugou to try out with you once he had some time off from work.

Bakugou recognized Suki’s bike parked right in front along with another bike right next to hers. To his knowledge you were right; Suki was here to meet a boy.

Bakugou felt himself getting angrier. How could Suki sneak out for a stupid boy? Doesn’t she know training has to be her top priority? Boys are a distraction and wouldn’t do her any good. He felt justified in these thoughts as he didn’t start dating until after he graduated which was when he met you.

Nevertheless, Bakugou parked and exited the car. He was planning on busting the door down to the restaurant, scold Suki, and murder whatever stupid boy had stolen his only daughter’s heart.

And Bakugou fully planned to do so until he stopped in his tracks at the sight he caught through the window. Suki was laughing, leaning on the person next to her. It was a girl. Initially Bakugou assumed it was a new friend that Suki had made until this new “friend” kissed his daughter on the cheek.

At that moment Bakugou understood fully what was going on. He was still upset that Suki felt like she had to sneak around to spend time with her girlfriend and he still thought having a partner could be a distraction but Bakugou knew he shouldn’t be physically upset as he initially intended to. 

So Bakugou waited, his arms across his chest as he leaned against his car and waited for Suki to come out from the restaurant.

When she was getting up to leave with her girlfriend by her side, Suki couldn’t remember the last time she enjoyed herself as much as she did in that ramen shop. She felt so comfortable in her skin and wished she could spend time with Yui more so that she didn’t have to sneak out like she did that night.

“I had a lot of fun today,” Yui said as the girls thanked the shop owners and made their way to the exit.

“Me too. Maybe next time we can go on a date during the day and not 5 AM,” Suki joked and Yui agreed.

“Mhm. But do you feel comfortable telling your parents?”

Suki sighed. “I want to tell them soon. It’s just so scary.”

“I get it, believe me.” Yui pushed the door open and they both walked towards their bikes. “Text me whenever you’re free again.”

Suki nodded and gave her girlfriend a small peck. “Come on, I’ll drop you off.”

“Suki, I live literally right next door. If anything I should be dropping you off,” Yui said with a laugh. “Are you okay getting home?”

Suki nodded confidently. “Absolutely. I’m in U.A. for a reason, you know.”

The girls continued and finished their goodbyes and Suki watched Yui take her bike on a very short ride to her house. She waved to Yui once more before turning around to head back home in the opposite direction. And that was when she finally saw him.

There Bakugou was, still leaned against his car down the road with stern crimson eyes watching his daughter. Suki’s eyes widened at the sight and immediately wanted the ground to swallow her whole. “Dad?!”

“About damn time you noticed me,” Bakugou grumbled, loud enough for Suki to hear as she cautiously walked towards Bakugou.

“What’re you doing here? How’d you find me?” Suki’s bike fell on its side as she loosened her grip out of shock.

“I just wanted to check on you when I woke up and saw you weren’t in bed. Do you know how fucking terrifying that is?” Bakugou asked angrily. Suki winced at her father’s tone, looking down and away from the intensity of his gaze. 

Bakugou sighed, calming himself down. After seeing how happy Suki and her girlfriend were together, he felt his initial anger diminish. “Why didn’t you just tell Mom and me you wanted to hang out with your girlfriend?” 

Suki felt overwhelmed with mixed emotions. She felt exposed but also guilty for not being open with her parents. “I-I don’t know. It was hard keeping this from you.”

Bakugou watched Suki closely and briefly. He could see her body shaking in what he assumed to be fear. He had caught her in an intimate moment with her significant other, someone that she felt that she had to hide from her parents. And it broke Bakugou’s heart thinking about how difficult it must have been carrying a secret so big and integral to who she was as a person.

Bakugou took a few steps forward, closing the gap between him and his daughter and he embraced her. Suki, whose eyes were still fixated on the ground, was taken aback at this sudden act. Her father, one who rarely showed any physical affection, was hugging her so tightly. “I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like having to keep this secret.”

Suki’s vision blurred as tears began to well in her eyes. She buried her face in Bakugou’s chest and she returned the embrace. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve told you guys,” Suki blurted out in between her sobs.

Bakugou patted her ash blonde hair down with his hand, still holding her as tight as he possibly could. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry for making you feel like you can’t be open with me. I know I can be shitty and tough on you but I’ve always wanted what’s best for you.”

Suki sniffled as she pulled away, rubbing her eyes and ridding her cheeks from the tears that had stained them. “It’s not that I felt like I couldn’t open up to you or Mom. I knew deep down that you guys would accept me regardless if I were gay or straight but I kept psyching myself out.”

Bakugou smiled softly, patting her back. “Suki, there’s nothing on this fucking Earth you could ever do to make me or your mother disappointed in you. Even if you decided to not be a hero anymore, I wouldn’t give a shit. All I want is for you to put your all into whatever it is you do and not to half ass anything.”

Suki smiled sheepishly. “Thanks, Dad.” Bakugou knelt down and grabbed Suki’s bike, wheeling it over to his car as he put it in the trunk. 

“So am I off the hook for sneaking out?” Suki asked, hoping to hear the answer she wanted to hear as she walked over to the passenger side of the vehicle.

“Fuck no. You’re still in trouble,” Bakugou stated simply in which Suki sighed, not surprised at the answer. “Now you don’t have to sneak out to see your girlfriend, at least.” The two entered the car and Bakugou turned the vehicle on as he turned it around to head back home. 

“Can I invite Yui over for dinner sometime?” Suki asked, looking at her father expectantly.

“Yeah. You gotta explain to your Mom what happened. She’s at home thinking you got kidnapped.” The two laughed as they made their way back home to you.

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[blingblong55]

Sweetness- John Price

pic credit: @ave661 (middle pic) Based on a request: hi!! https://www.instagram.com/reel/C2kkbOYo8jj/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA== writing this for when requests are open this with price??? hehehehe  ---- F!Reader, fluff, husband!Price, romance? ----

A/N: i hope this is okay for ya

Anniversary dinners were always fun. John knows you too much to know you prefer food trucks over fancy restaurants for moments like these. It started when you first met, he wanted to impress you but you were always honest about not wanting to dress up and feel pretentious. So, he took you to a food truck, and you and he sat by some bench at the park, talked, and laughed and ever since that date, it became your thing. 

It's been nine years, nearly ten, and every year he takes you to the same food truck. Sit by the same bench, talk, laugh and have occasional talks about the life you've lived together. 

It's Thursday night, the tenth anniversary and as you are getting ready to go to the same park, he opens the front door of your home. The kids run down the stairs and you can hear their giggles as he tells them some secret. John lets the sitter watch over the kids in the living room as he makes his way to you. 

In all your beauty, you look into the mirror, deciding if leaving the fancy locket on would be too much for tonight. 

He leans on the doorway, bouquet behind his back. "I can feel your eyes on me, John," you say and he chuckles. His cheeks flush, it's like the first time he met you. You are so effortlessly beautiful and all he can do is stand there in his black suit. You turn around, a confused look on your sweet face, "Why are you wearing that suit?"

He wants to treat you to a good dinner, unlike the past years. 

"I think it's time we do this right," he walks up to you, a soft black dress in one hand and the flowers in the other. "John, no, this is our thing, I don't want to change that-" you try to say but he shakes his head. "I love our thing, but I also know you deserve more than food truck meals."

By the time he and you arrive at the restaurant, he takes your hand, leading you in. The entire dinner is more than lovely but you can tell something is off. 

"What's the matter?" you ask and he sighs. He forgets you know him too well. "Did you enjoy tonight?" he takes your hands in his and you nod. "I did too, but...we also need our fun and this place is too boring," he stands up and guides you outside. Instead of walking to the car, he picks you up, bridal style and crosses the street. "John," you laugh, trying to get him to put you down. "Let's have fun, darling," he smiles and kisses your cheek. 

Without you knowing, his sweet words and loving eyes distract you as he carries you to the same old park. "I have loved every day of my life since you walked in and I adore those kids of ours but I also adore the feeling I've had since you first introduced yourself to me," he puts you down and kisses you without a warning. His hands cupping your face, you tiptoe just enough when he pulls you in and you feel it, the sweet, nervous rush you get when you have him this close. 

There is always something about this park, it was never the food truck dinners, the pregnancy cravings, or the drunk nights, all it ever has been and ever will be is the way each time, he held you close and just talked his heart out. It was intimacy for the raw feeling and words he whispered to you that only you and he meant. 

He and you sit on that bench, before you know it, he kneels in front of you. He takes your heels off and kisses your legs before looking up, "I do love you, Y/N," he whispers and eventually kisses your lips again. 

By the end of the night, you piggyback your way to the car and he laughs as he feels your arms wrapped around him, your heels held by your hand as you repeatedly kiss his cheek. 

It has always been about the emotions rather than the place. 

It's always been him and you, walking back to the car with some jokes thrown into the air. 

It's always been him.

It'll forever be him. 

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#cod mw2 #cod #cod x reader #mwii #call of duty #cod fluff #cod fanfic #cod modern warfare #cod mw22 #cod mwii #cod mwiii #cod price #captain john price #john price #captain price #price mw2 #price x reader #price #john price cod #john price call of duty #cod john price #captain price x reader #captain john price imagine #captain johnathan price #captain price headcanons #price cod #john price fanfic #captain price fic #price fanfiction #price fluff

[mariclerc]

Can you do a fic where the reader works for Ferrari and has been friends with Charles for a long time, and recently Charles and the reader have a friends with benefits thing going on, but the reader is actually in love with him. Then when Lewis moves to Ferrari, he takes an interest in the reader, the reader decides to give him a shot and stops the situationship with Charles and he realises he doesn't want to let her go.

thank you for this request, this was a little bit hard to make because i was looking at how to develop the story but I really liked how it came out, I hope you like it!

Confusions at work | cl16 & lh44

Summary: when you have feelings for your situationship but a new person gets in the middle of it. Warnings: a little angst, confused reader, and fluff at the end.

The garage bustles with mechanics working on the gleaming red cars. You lean over the table to see the monitor with the different strategies for the first practice session of the day. Charles walks towards you, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Looking stunning with that frowned face y/n... As always.”

You roll your eyes playfully, a smile tugging at your lips. You have known Charles since his great season in Formula 2 back in 2017, by then you were already working as an internal race engineer in the Haas team, you were practically like Sheldon from the big bang theory - a brainiac. Upon meeting Charles there was an instant connection, it was as if you had always known each other, eventually, you were promoted from Haas to Ferrari in 2019, just the same year that Charles was promoted to the red team too, and ever since then the easy camaraderie between you has turned into something more... A secret, friends-with-benefits situation that both sets your heart ablaze and tears it in two.

“Yeah, yeah, save it for the cameras, Perceval. You know perfectly well I can take you down with a bad strategy any day.” you chuckled.

Charles feigns offense, but his laughter betrays him. You share a comfortable silence, a familiarity that speaks volumes. The moment is shattered by the arrival of Lewis Hamilton, the new star driver at Ferrari. Arriving at that first meeting at Maranello his gaze settles on you, a flicker of interest igniting in his eyes. Fred had offered you a change of position with Adami to be Lewis' race engineer, but the comfort and confidence you already had working with Charles made you decline the offer, likewise, working with a seven-time world champion is a privilege, since you can learn a lot from him, but you and Charles had practically grown up together at Ferrari and out of loyalty to him you stayed with him.

-

The following weeks are a whirlwind. Lewis tries to get close to you, and as a result, you end up having some dates and night-outs with him. He is charismatic, attentive, you dare to say that he's a bit similar to Charles in so many ways since both of them treat you with such care and kindness. You find yourself drawn to his confidence and outgoing demeanor, a stark contrast to Charles' usual genuine and soft care towards you. Guilt gnaws at you, but the thrill of something new is intoxicating... And with a little sadness in your heart, you decide to end things with Charles... At least for a little while you try to understand what your heart wants.

One night you went to Charles' apartment, and you entered with the extra key that he had given you a long time ago. Charles' apartment is quiet, a stark contrast to the usual post-race buzz. You stand awkwardly in the living room, avoiding his gaze.

You gulped. “Charles... I think we need to talk.”

He looks up, a frown creasing his forehead. The air crackles with unspoken emotions. “Y/n what's wrong sweetie? Did I do something wrong?”

You take a deep breath. “It's about this.” you sigh. “This thing between us... It can go anymore.”

Silence hangs heavy in the air, Charles' frown deepens, his eyes searching yours. “Is it Lewis? Is this about him?” he asked.

The truth hangs on your tongue, a bitter pill to swallow. “Maybe, maybe not... The point is, things need to change... We need to take a break... At least for a little while.”

Charles stands abruptly, his frustration palpable. “Just like that? We throw away everything because of... what? Because some shiny new toy showed up?” His words sting, but there's a flicker of something else in his eyes - a vulnerability you haven't seen before.

“It's not that simple, Charles. You know it's... Complicated.”

Tears well up in your eyes, this isn't how you imagined this conversation going. You practically run out of Charles' apartment, frustrated because you don't know if you did the right thing and at the same time you don't know if being with Lewis is the same as being with Charles... Because at the end of the day, he somehow manages to see through you and understand you on a level that Lewis cannot.

-

Days turn into weeks, you and Charles avoid each other. The only words that come out of your mouth are simply a "hello" and a "see you later", occasionally long sentences when you're giving him directions during the race or at the team debrief, the air is thick with unspoken tension. The joy has gone out of working at Ferrari... You see the way Lewis looks at you, but a hollow ache fills your chest. At night you constantly think about what you would be doing with Charles at that exact moment, perhaps cuddling up watching a movie, or a normal date at his house eating pizza, wearing matching socks and playing Mario kart... And even though Lewis takes you to glamorous galas, lavish dinners and so on, you don't complain about it, on the contrary, you're grateful for it, but, there's nothing like that instant connection with Charles.

One afternoon, Charles corners you near his car. His eyes are stormy, a mix of anger and something else you can't decipher.

You hear him sigh. “I miss you y/n... Like hell.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You miss him too, the easy banter, the way he understood you without words, the way his eyes spark every single time he was next to you.

“Charles... I...” you say shyly but he cuts you off, his voice rough.

“Don't... Don't tell me you miss Lewis...because if you do, I'll understand. But at least know this – this thing we have, it's real, at least for me. It's more than just crazy strategies and stolen kisses after victories. Maybe I haven't said it, haven't shown it the way you deserve, but I care about you, y/n... A lot.”

His confession hangs in the air, raw and vulnerable, you've never seen him that way. You can see the years of unspoken feelings bubbling to the surface. Tears prick your eyes, blurring the image of Charles in front of you.

A million things fight for dominance in your mind: the thrill of the new with Lewis, the comfortable companionship with Charles, the undeniable spark you share with him.

Taking a shaky breath, you meet his gaze.

”Charles, I... I don't know what I want... I mean, Lewis is exciting, a new challenge. But with you... it's different, it's easy, familiar, it's warm. But it's also... frustrating you know? You never give anything away, never let anyone in all the way.”

A flicker of pain crosses Charles' features. He reaches out, hesitantly placing a hand on your arm. “I'm scared y/n... Scared of losing you, scared of letting myself feel something this real. But if you're willing to take a chance, maybe, just maybe, we can figure this out together.” he says softly.

The silence stretches, thick with unspoken emotions. You look into Charles' eyes, searching for a glimpse of the future you both could have. The weight of the decision settles on your shoulders. You glance around the garage, the familiar red of the Ferraris a stark contrast to the turmoil within you. Lewis' confident smile flashes in your mind, but it's quickly replaced by the image of Charles' vulnerability, a side you've never seen before.

Taking a deep breath, you meet Charles' gaze, a flicker of determination replacing your earlier uncertainty.

“Okay Charles, let's figure this out... Together.” you say softly.

A slow smile spreads across Charles' face, relief washing over him. He pulls you into a tight embrace, the scent of his familiar cologne grounding you, it feels like coming home.

“Thank you, y/n. Thank you for taking a chance on us.” he whispers in your ear.

You pull back slightly, a playful glint returning to your eyes. “Just don't expect me to lose in the strategy game anytime soon, Leclerc... This isn't over yet.”

Charles throws his head back and laughs, the tension finally breaking. He ruffles your hair affectionately.

“I wouldn't have it any other way amour... Wouldn't have it any other way.” he smiles. (love)

-

The garage and the pit wall is mostly deserted, the day's work winding down. You're packing up some of your things when Lewis approaches, a determined look in his eyes.

“Hey, y/n! Can I talk to you?” he asked with a friendly smile on his face.

You hesitate, then nod, gesturing towards a quiet corner. Lewis leans against a wall, his voice gets a little serious.

“I saw you and Charles... And I get it now, there's something there, a history I can't compete with.” There's a hint of disappointment in his voice, but mostly understanding.

“Lewis, I... I'm really sorry. Things just moved too fast too soon, and I realized what I was risking.” you say softly but Lewis offers a shy smile.

“No need to apologize, but follow your heart, y/n! That's all any of us can do... Besides, maybe next time on the track, I can finally knock your team off that top spot in the strategy battle.”

A genuine smile graces your lips. “Don't count on it, Hamilton. But hey, maybe we can grab a coffee sometime and hash out some friendly competition strategies. No promises on who'll win, though.”

Lewis chuckles, the tension dissipating. He extends his hand for a handshake. “Deal! And good luck with Charles. He's a lucky guy!”

You shake his hand, a newfound sense of clarity settling within you, he gives you a warm smile and a friendly hug. As Lewis walks away, you glance towards Charles, who's watching the exchange with a hint of possessiveness in his eyes. You catch his gaze and he winks at you, a silent promise hanging between you.

He walks towards you with a little smile on his face and takes you in his arms.

“So... How about we get out of here? I could use a real shower you know?” you say and Charles' smile widens, genuine relief washing over his features.

“Sounds like a plan. My place, or yours?” he asks softly.

The air hangs heavy with unspoken possibilities. You know this is a turning point in your relationship, a chance to rebuild something stronger.

“Your place only if you promise to make that killer pasta dish you always brag about.” you say teasingly.

Charles lets out a mock groan, but there's a twinkle in his eye. “Fine, fine. But you have to help me chop the vegetables! No bystanders in my kitchen, okay?” You laugh, the tension finally breaking. As you finally grab all of your things, Charles slings his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “Come on, sweetcheeks. Let's get out of here before someone challenges me to another mario kart race.” he smiles softly. “You know I can't resist a good challenge, especially when you're involved.”

You nudge him playfully, a warm feeling blossoming in your chest.

”Oh, I'm sure you can handle it, Leclerc. But just you wait, next time I'm schooling you.”

Together you walk out of the garage, the setting sun casting an orange glow across the racetrack. The future is uncertain, but with a newfound commitment to each other, you're ready to face it head-on. You and Charles head towards his car, the promise of a home-cooked meal and a chance to reconnect hanging heavy in the air.

#formula one x reader #poly!f1 #poly!drivers x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles x you #lewis hamilton #lewis x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #cl16 x lh44 x reader #poly!drivers #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #charles x reader

[starryevermore]

i will go to secret gardens in my mind ✧ tamlin

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

pairing: tamlin x archeron!fem!reader

summary: you have always been a wallflower, but to tamlin, you are the finest rose in the garden. 

word count: 7,676

warnings?: angst with a happy ending, unrequited feelings, pining, multi pov, plot twist perchance??, not proofread 

The Spring Court had been rebuilt. What would have been a joyous occasion under any other circumstances, for perhaps any other court, left your family scowling as they looked over the invitation that landed on Rhysand’s desk this morning. An invitation to all courts—to come to Spring and celebrate the burgeoning court. No one, it seemed, wanted to go. It was understandable, of course. After everything that Spring’s High Lord, Tamlin, had put Feyre through—had put your entire family through—it almost felt like walking into a trap. But call you naïve, or perhaps a tad too optimistic for your own good, but you wanted to believe that Tamlin might have truly turned over a new leaf. Sometimes, it took someone losing everything to learn the value of all that they hold dear. No one wanted to go, it seemed, except for you.

Well, and Lucien, but he often fought in Tamlin’s corner. “Tamlin is a far cry from what you remember him as,” he said. “What he did to Feyre was horrible, but he’s trying to make amends. Isn’t the point of the Night Court to offer second chances?”

“We don’t owe that worm a second chance,” Nesta snarled, her eyes narrowing at Lucien. 

“It might be good for Feyre to close this chapter of her life,” Lucien continued. 

Rhysand rolled his eyes. “Because you care so much about Feyre’s wellbeing. Remind me, what were you doing while she wasted away in that manor?”

“All I’m saying is, you should consider hearing him out. We all were troubled after Under the Mountain. His actions were, are, shameful, but that doesn’t mean he cannot regret what he did.”

You noticed the tension in Feyre’s shoulders and reached out, placing your hand on top of hers. “You don’t have to go. I just thought it might be fun. We haven’t just gone out in so long.”

Rhysand’s narrowed gaze turned on you. “Then we can go to Rita’s, or take a walk down the Sidra. Hell, I’m sure if we asked Tarquin, we could have a nice trip down to Summer if you’re wanting to go somewhere warm. We don’t have to go all the way to the damned Spring Court for fun.”

A sigh escaped your lips. You rose from your seat, turned to leave. “Forget I said anything.”

Feyre looked up at you. She said your name, standing to follow after you. “If you want to go—”

You waved her off. “It’s alright. I didn’t want to go that bad. I only thought it would be fun, but Rhys is right. We can do something else instead.”

She said your name again, but you ignored her. You understood why she of all people would be apprehensive of going to Spring. Trust and believe, you understood. Tamlin was hardly the most wonderful person in Prythian in your eyes. He let Feyre waste away, he sold you, Nesta, and Elain out to Hybern in a vain attempt to get Feyre back…At every turn, it seemed like he was dead set on humiliating her. But when it was all said and done, he still gave up a kernel of his power to bring back Rhysand. “Be happy, Feyre,” he’d said. It was nothing groundbreaking, it was not even close to an apology for all he’d done, but it seemed like a step in the right direction. 

As you retreated to your room, you didn’t have to look to know you were being followed. Ever since Elain had accepted the mating bond with Lucien, Azriel always trailed so close behind you, he was like a second shadow. When you reached your room, you left the door open, allowing him to slip inside. The door clicked shut behind him. 

You took a seat in the bay window, looking out over the city of Velaris. “Whatever you have to say, I don’t want to hear it.”

The cushion sank underneath Azriel’s weight. You moved over, avoiding your knees knocking into his. “I just want to know what’s going on in your mind.”

“Does it matter? Rhysand has made his decision clear.”

“Of course it matters. It matters to me.”

It should’ve tugged at your heartstrings to hear him say those words. But all you were reminded of was how Azriel pined after Elain for so long, and for Mor for centuries before that. You were all too aware that you were just the latest object of his affection. “I don’t know. I just…It feels like something is calling for me to go there. Something trying to tug me along until I finally cross over Spring’s border.”

When you spared Azriel a glance, you noted the way his jaw clenched and unclenched. “You should tell Rhys that. He might be more amenable.”

“Rhysand is hardly amenable to anything that isn’t already in his favor.” You shrugged. “It’s not as if I’m Elain, with some vision about why we need to go to Spring. I just…I don’t know. I have a feeling it’s somewhere I should be.”

Azriel looked you over. Perhaps he was trying to ascertain if you’ve lost your mind. And maybe you had. You could hardly explain the feeling, deep in your chest, that pulled you towards the Spring Court. The feeling only intensified when you learned of the invitation to come to Spring’s celebration. “I’ll talk to Rhys for you. He’s been wanting to forge alliances with the other courts. If he’s able to extend a hand to Spring, other courts might be willing to work with him.”

You shrugged again. “Do as you please.”

He reached for your hand. You allowed him to take it. At least you found a modicum of comfort in the gentle squeeze. Azriel’s mouth opened—to say what, you weren’t sure, for a knock sounded against your door. It opened shortly after, Feyre slipping inside. Her eyes fell to your joined hands. The corner of her mouth quirked upwards. You pulled away. One of his shadows trailed after you.

“We’re going to Spring,” she said, smiling. But it didn’t reach her eyes. 

You stood up, crossing the room in a few strides, then took Feyre’s hands. “We don’t have to if it’ll cause you pain. I don’t mean to dredge up those terrible memories.”

“I am High Lady. I can set aside those feelings for one night, if it might end in an alliance that will benefit my people. Besides, Lucien might be right. It might do me some good to speak with Tamlin under better circumstances.”

“Are you sure?”

She offered you a smile. “I’m sure.” She squeezed your hands. “You haven’t asked for much since you’ve come here. The least I can do is give you this.”

You shook your head. “No, Feyre, you’ve already gave up so much for our family—”

“Hush. If I didn’t want to do it, you know I wouldn’t.”

“Fine. But the second you’re uncomfortable, we all leave, okay?”

Feyre nodded. “Okay.”

Rhysand was certainly giving you the cold shoulder since Feyre insisted that you all go to the Spring Court, but you could hardly find it in yourself to care. Not when you finally got to trade in the darkness of Night for the blossoming life of Spring. You couldn’t wait to finally leave Night’s borders. You couldn’t quite remember the last time you had the opportunity to leave, save for the war with Hybern. Other than that, though, you had bounced between Rhysand’s many homes, going to whichever place made you least likely to pick a fight with the High Lord. These days, that was primarily the House of Wind, since he had given it to Cassian and Nesta. That, of course, left you with even fewer chances to go out. If you didn’t have an Illyrian to fly you down, you would have to brave the 10,000 stairs. And you were no Valkyrie—you were sure you wouldn’t even make it down a few dozen before throwing in the towel. Of course, you were certain that Azriel would be more than pleased to be at your beck and call. 

After all, he sat on your bed now, watching as you rifled through your dresses, trying to pick something out to wear. 

“You look beautiful in anything,” he said. “Why are you putting so much effort into this?” A hidden question was on the tip of his tongue—Were you trying to impress someone? Perhaps him?

“My mother always said, when you go outside, you look your best because you never know what will happen.”

Azriel stood up, crossing over to your wardrobe. A scarred hand wrapped around yours, stopping you from flicking through the dresses. His voice was husky as he asked, “And what do you think will happen?” 

Your face grew warm. Even if you knew that he was only pursuing you because you were an Archeron, for a male to be so close to you…Well, it was easy to get you flustered. Stuck between Nesta’s vivaciousness and Elain’s sweetness, it was easy for you to fade into the background. When your family was better off, everyone flocked to Elain. After your family became rich again, Elain garnered so many men’s attention. Even Feyre, when your family was its lowest, found herself with someone, if just for the pursuit of pleasure. But you…You were a wallflower through and through. 

“Anything. Nothing,” you said. 

Your breath stilled as Azriel pulled a dress from your wardrobe. It was a beautiful blue tulle dress. Silver stars littered its entire body. There was a tasteful slit up one side. Somewhere in your chest of drawers, you knew there was a matching pair of long, sheer gloves. You had gotten it for Starfall, but found yourself tucking it away in favor of a simpler gown. It, however, wasn’t lost on you that its color complemented Azriel’s cobalt siphons well. 

“You should wear this,” he said. “In case something does happen.”

You found yourself nodding. 

A soft smile crossed his face. It took everything in you to not look away, lest you give him the wrong idea. You may have been a wallflower, but you were not a demure female. “I’ll let you get ready then.”

You nodded again. 

Azriel placed the dress in your hands. You expected him to leave, but he lingered still. His hand grasped yours, pulling it up to meet his lips. He made eye contact with you the entire time, hazel eyes twinkling, before he pulled away. 

When he was finally gone, a sigh escaped your lips. A part of you, you recognized, should have been delighted at Azriel’s attention. He was an attractive male. He had so many qualities that you admired—protective, loyal, kind. But anytime you looked at him, you were reminded of his past history with females. How he pined after Mor for centuries. How he fixated on Elain. In both cases, each made it clear in their own ways that it would never go further. And here you were, certain that you were sending clear signals that you were uninterested, and yet…There he remained. Where was Rhysand, telling him to leave you be? Could you only be left alone if you had a mate?

Perhaps it would be easier, you mused as you changed into the dress, if this tug in your chest was for Azriel. That, by going to Spring, something would happen that would make the bond snap for him. At least if he was your mate, you could convince him to get a home of your own, far away from the busybodies occupying the Inner Circle. At least you would finally feel free enough to breathe on your own. 

You spared a glance in the mirror, satisfied with your hair and makeup, before leaving your room. It shouldn’t have surprised you to see Azriel waiting on the other side of the door, shadows swirling around him. His face brightened as he saw you. An arm was extended toward you. You took it. 

“Beautiful, just as I expected.” Azriel smiled at you. “Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

All eyes were on the Inner Circle as you entered the manor, but you were too busy looking at everything else. Spring was…Mother, it was more beautiful than anything you had ever seen before. Not even Elain’s gardens held a candle to the beauty housed here. It was difficult to imagine how a Court so ethereal could have been in ruins just months before. It was easier, though, to see how Feyre could fall in love with this land. 

It was even easier, you mused, to fall in love with Spring’s High Lord as he stepped into the Inner Circle’s path. It was the first time you really got a good look at him. When you were taken, you hadn’t dared look at your captors. And when you came out of the Cauldron, you cried so hard you couldn’t see. But the male before you now…Wow. 

“Welcome,” he said, extending a hand to Rhysand. As Rhysand shook it, he turned to Feyre. “Thank you all for coming. I cannot imagine it was an easy decision to make.”

Feyre tilted her head in your direction. “Thank Lucien and my sister. It was their convincing arguments that brought us here.”

Tamlin’s emerald eyes fell to you. Something in your chest tugged harder, but you couldn’t dwell on it as Azriel took a subtle step in front of you. A charming smile passed across the High Lord’s lips. “Well, thank you, too,” he said. “And if I may, I must offer the utmost apologies for everything that transpired the last time our paths crossed. There is no excuse for my actions.”

You tried not to flinch at the mention of the Cauldron. The memory of being submerged as a human, reemerging as a fae…How everything was so different, too intense. It was, perhaps, the darkest part of your life thus far. You prayed it was never so dark again. “It wasn’t all bad,” you found yourself saying. “At least now I can live a long life with my sisters.”

“That is a generous way to think about it,” Tamlin said. He took a step toward you, a hand outstretched. His eyes flicked to Azriel as a growl escaped the Spymaster. Still, he reached for your hand. When you slipped it into his, he lifted it toward his mouth, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. Something, something akin to joy, swirled inside of you. A tendril of a shadow pulled your hand from Tamlin’s. “Would you be so kind as to share a dance with me?”

“I—” The Inner Circle tensed around you, though you caught Lucien rolling his eyes at their antics. A dance didn’t seem so horrible, but you hated the way Feyre looked so uncomfortable at the prospect. You wished you were a daemati and could see what she was thinking. “Perhaps later. I should like to spend some time mingling.”

Tamlin seemed disappointed, but he still smiled as he said, “Of course. Have fun.”

He nodded at Feyre and Rhysand before disappearing into the crowd. 

“It was like he disappeared the moment he laid eyes on Y/N,” Mor remarked, plucking a glass from a passing waiter’s tray. 

“Don’t,” Feyre warned. She looked at you, her eyes wide with worry. “Don’t fall for his charms. Dance with him if you so wish. But…I don’t know how much I believed him to have changed.” 

“I won’t. I haven’t forgotten what he’s done to you. It will take more than charming smiles and offers for dances to win me over,” you said, turning away from her. Your heart clenched at her distrust. Well, perhaps it wasn’t distrust. To be here, to be in Spring again, must have been extraordinarily difficult for her. But you were her sister. You knew her struggles, her pain, better than most. You weren’t going to throw all that away because Tamlin was kind to you. You weren’t that sort of female. 

A scarred hand caught your wrist before you could slip away into the crowd, perhaps find a nice corner to hide in and people watch. “Would you? Like to dance?” Azriel asked. 

“I see Kallias and Viviane. I would like to say hello.”

You could feel the Inner Circle’s eyes on you as you disappeared into the throng of fae. Though you were no daemati, you could practically hear their collective thoughts: You would be better off with Azriel. But what did they know about you?

Coming here was a mistake. You’d decided so hours ago as you could see various members of the Inner Circle keeping tabs on you from the corner of your eye. Despite hardly making a move from the corner you resided in, save for trips to the refreshment table or conversations with the few friends you had made from other courts, they still hovered. You wondered if it was under Rhysand’s orders, or perhaps Feyre’s. To make sure you didn’t slip away to dance with Tamlin, become the next pretty thing trapped in his gilded cage. 

You sucked your tongue against your teeth as you watched Azriel approach you from across the room, Nesta and Cassian slipping off onto the dance floor. The changing of the guards. Your eyes rolled. Of everyone, Azriel’s presence was the worst. While the others would linger, he would stay by your side, trying to coax conversations out of you or pull you over for a dance. It might have been sweet if you weren’t all too aware that it was a vain effort to keep you from Tamlin. And unlike the others, who would have been merely following orders from the High Lady and Lord, Azriel had his own ulterior motives. 

When you lost sight of Azriel, dancing couples blocking each other’s view of the other, you took the opportunity to slide out a nearby door and into the hall. They would be furious to learn you left—especially when it was because of you that they were even here. But you couldn’t handle the hovering any longer. 

The music from the ballroom soon faded into the background as you walked down the hall, searching for some sanctuary. There were groups of fae lingering around the hallway, but none paid you any mind. It was refreshing, if you were being honest. They had no idea who you were, who your sisters were, of what they had done to save Prythian (or doom this court). You smiled at one couple, wrapped up in each other’s arms, blissfully unaware of all that happened around them. 

You spied an open door and slipped inside. It was far smaller than the ballroom, but still grand. Paintings hung along the walls—a few you recognized to be in Feyre’s style. The thing that caught your eye, though, was the handsome piano in the middle of the room. A smile tugged at your lips. It had been so long since you’d had a chance to play. During your family’s dark years, you of course didn’t have access to any instruments, much less one so expensive. When you arrived in Velaris, straight out of the Cauldron, you had clung to the instrument, letting all of your pain flow out of you until there was nothing left. These days, though, you had strayed away.

You took a seat at the bench and ran your fingers along the ivory keys. You tested a few notes to see if it was still in key, but you didn’t make it very far. 

“Do you play?”

Tamlin stood in the doorframe, watching you curiously. Panic settled in your chest. If the Inner Circle, if Feyre, found out that you were alone with Spring’s High Lord, you knew they would be less than pleased. But that tug in your chest—it pulled harder than it ever had before, and that brought you an odd sort of comfort. 

“Yes.”

“May I hear you play something?”

You eyed him, trying to ascertain if this was some trick. As much as you wanted to believe your family was being overdramatic, you did wonder if they knew something you didn’t. When you sensed no ill motives, you gave a nod. 

As you pressed down on the keys, it felt like everything melted away around you. There was no inter-court politics to be wary of. No Shadowsingers following close on your heels. No sisters whose heart would surely break if she knew you were letting him in. Just you and the music that flowed out. 

“That was beautiful,” he said as the final note rang through the room. He took a few steps closer to you. Tamlin extended a hand. “I wish, though, that I could still hear it while we danced. If you would like to, that is.”

You stared at his outstretched hand. 

“Just say the word if you don’t wish to. I know you didn’t dance out there, but I thought, perhaps, without all those eagle eyes watching you—”

You took his hand. “I’m not the best dancer.”

“That’s alright. Neither am I.”

Tamlin was a right liar, he was. As he spun you around the room, you clumsily just missing his feet, you knew he was a liar. But the awkward dance made you laugh, harder than you had in a long time. The tug in your chest pulled more than it ever had before. 

“If this is you at your worst, I would hate to see how skilled you would be after a few lessons,” you teased. 

“We could take lessons together,” Tamlin suggested. The thought made your smile grow, though you weren’t entirely sure why. “Maybe after tonight, your High Lord will let you visit more often.”

“Perhaps—” you began to say. 

“That will never happen.”

Shadows swirled around you, tugging you out of Tamlin’s arms. You gasped, a chill running down your spine. Large wings kept Tamlin out of your view. When you tried to look around Azriel, his hands came to rest on your hips, holding you in place. 

“Did he do something to you?” Azriel asked. 

“What? No!”

“You just disappeared. Everyone’s in a panic. Feyre looked ready to kill, Nesta ready to hide the body. We didn’t know what happened to you. We didn’t know if you were hurt or—” He glanced over his shoulder, eyes narrowing at Tamlin. “—or worse.”

“I’m fine! I’m not some damsel in distress—”

“Of course not. But you have to understand—”

“No! You have to understand that you are not my knight in shining armor, Azriel! I am not so stupid to just waltz headfirst into danger. If I ever found myself in such a position, I would have screamed or called out for Rhysand and prayed he was listening. I do not need saving, especially not—” You caught Tamlin’s eye over Azriel’s shoulder. Something snapped into place, a golden thread tying you to him. “—especially not with my mate.”

Azriel’s eyes flashed. Hurt, maybe? Or anger? “He can’t be—”

“He is. He is the reason I felt the calling to come to Spring, Az. He’s my mate, and you have to respect that.”

Behind you, you heard a flurry of footsteps as the room quickly filled. Your eyes squeezed shut. Fuck. Was it not enough to have to deal with Azriel? Did everyone else have to come, too? 

Feyre’s voice rang through the room. “Y/N, come here, please.”

“I should be allowed to make the choice to come, shouldn’t I? Isn’t that what the Night Court is all about?” You looked at her, a solitary tear dropping down your face. “What? Are choices not allowed when it goes against your wishes?”

“Please,” she repeated, her hand reaching out for you. 

Tamlin stepped around Azriel, stood by your side. “I would not hurt her, Feyre. I have given you every reason to distrust me, to hate me, but I wouldn’t do anything to her.”

Feyre closed the distance between the two of you, Rhysand hot on her heels. She snarled at Tamlin, “I have every reason to not believe a word that comes out of your mouth.”

“I understand—”

Her finger jabbed at his chest. “Don’t. Don’t you dare give me any honeyed words or false promises about how Y/N—my sister—being your mate changes things. A skunk still stinks even when it hasn’t sprayed.”

“Feyre, please, can’t we just talk this through—” you tried. This was going horribly wrong. You hadn’t imagined any of this would happen just by following the tugging in your chest. A mate, you might have suspected. But all of this—

Her head snapped toward you. Her eyes glazed over as Rhysand spoke into her mind. When they cleared, she spoke with the authority of a High Lady but with none of the love of a sister.“You said we could leave if I became uncomfortable. I would like to leave,” Feyre said. “Rhys, please, get her out of here.”

Rhysand’s hands were on you, winnowing you away, before you could even dare to make your protests. But you didn’t miss the pain in Tamlin’s beautiful emerald eyes. 

Feyre had made a terrible mistake. Since that horrible, awful ball, you were moved into the River House so she and Rhys could keep an eye on you. While you might not have been able to leave the House of Wind without an Illyrian to fly you down or otherwise brave the 10,000 steps, that didn’t mean that you wouldn’t try to go. At least here, they could make sure you remained in place. Anyone who wished to see you, save for Spring’s Cauldron damned High Lord, could. They just needed to make are that something horrible wouldn’t happen. 

But you hadn’t left your room in weeks. They would send food up to you, but would find only small bites taken out of it when they came for the next meal. You had said scarcely a single word. The only time you would move from your bed was to take a bath, where you would sit for hours still. Once, Feyre had gone to check on you, to make sure that you hadn’t hurt yourself, and found you staring at the bubbled water, unblinking. You hadn’t even realized she was there.

The only person you seemed to respond to was Azriel. He would go to your room, crawl in your bed, and play with your hair. Sometimes, Feyre would linger in the doorway, watching you and him. Azriel would talk to you, try and convince you to leave your room. You would only cry.

And now, Feyre paced the length of Rhys’s office, chewing on the corner of a fingernail. Rhys sat at his desk, his face leaned against his palm. 

“I don’t know what to do,” she said. “I don’t know how to make this better. She, she’s wasting away in there.”

Rhys let out a sigh. “There is an obvious solution to the problem, though not the preferred one.”

Feyre spun on her heel, narrowing her eyes at her mate. “You know perfectly well that I can’t just let her be with Tamlin. It would be safer sending her into a viper’s den.”

He rose and crossed the room, took her hands in his own. “You don’t mean that. You and Tamlin were not right for each other, especially after everything that happened Under the Mountain. You no longer wanted the same things as him. Was his actions wrongful? Of course. He could have tried to help you, but you also pushed him away. It was doomed from the start.”

“And I should let her go into a doomed relationship with him?” Feyre poked her finger at Rhys’s chest. “She is too good for that. She deserves a better mate.”

“I agree. But the Mother found reason to bind their souls together. You once thought I was something straight out of a nightmare, but look how far we’ve come.”

“I recall you hating Tamlin for everything he did to me.”

“And I do. I still do.” A sigh escaped Rhys’s lips. “But I also look at Y/N and remember having to leave you behind in Spring. I remember collapsing in Mor’s arms, begging for just a chance with you. I was a shell of myself then. I worry that if we keep them apart, we’ll lose her either way.”

Feyre turned away. She looked toward the door. For a flicker of a moment, she wished she could go back to that horrible cottage, when she was still a human. Even if survival was a struggle at best, she didn’t have to worry about your sweet soul being taken advantage of. 

“Send a letter to Tamlin,” she finally said. “Tell him he is welcome to come here. If Y/N so wishes to leave with him, she may. But make clear, if a single hair on her head is harmed, if we receive a single word that she is being treated as anything less than what she deserves, it will constitute an act of war.” 

Tamlin stared up at the River House. He had moved faster than he had ever moved before when the invitation to come to the Night Court was extended. So fast, he realized with a glance at his feet, he forgot to put on shoes before winnowing away. He hoped you wouldn’t mind. Ever since Rhysand had winnowed you out from under his nose, he had been a mess. If Tamlin thought losing Feyre was him at his lowest, it paled in comparison to losing you. Worse yet, he had the previous experience to know he couldn’t give into his desperate impulses and expect everything to go smoothly. No, he had to tread carefully. 

Still, he found himself sending you letters over the last few weeks. Tamlin never received a response, but he never expected one. He wasn’t sure how well you were being surveilled, if the Inner Circle were taking active steps to keep you from contacting him. But he hoped his words brought you some modicum of comfort. 

The door swung open before he had a chance to knock. Rhysand looked him over. “You didn’t have time to at least make yourself presentable?”

“I thought if I took too much time, the invitation would be rescinded.”

Rhysand’s brow raised. “I wasn’t aware you could have such intelligent thoughts. You know, since you had sided with Hybern so readily in the beginning.”

Tamlin bit back a snarl. It would not end well to pick a fight with Night’s High Lord. He knew good and well he was out-powered, and he was sure that Feyre’s threat should also extend to any threat her own mate faced. Instead, he said as diplomatically as he could manage, “It was a terrible mistake, but one I would make again if it would give me a chance to live a long life with my mate, should she so have me.”

Feyre appeared, pushing Rhysand out of the doorway. She, too, scrutinized his appearance, nose wrinkling at the sight of him, but at least had the courtesy to say nothing about it. “You came quickly.”

Somewhere in the distance, Tamlin could hear Cassian chortle and mutter something about “that’s what she said.” 

“I did not know how long this invitation of hospitality might remain open.” Tamlin searched Feyre’s eyes, searching for a sign of your wellbeing. “Is she alright?”

Tamlin watched as Feyre swallowed, her hands subtly shaking. She had always cared deeply about her sisters, perhaps you more than Nesta or Elain. Where Nesta could hold her own and Elain was sweet enough to charm any potential suitor, she worried that you were too quiet for your own good. Too willing to slip into the shadows and be forgotten. 

“She has hardly eaten since that night. We…We have fixed dinner. We thought she might be more amenable if you brought a plate to her room?”

“Of course, of course,” Tamlin said. Feyre moved out of the threshold, motioning for him to step inside. He did. “Has she…?”

“She hasn’t said a word. She just sits and stares. I thought females were able to suppress the bond. I don’t understand why she is so afflicted.”

Tamlin suppressed an eye roll. He had to play nice, at least until he could see you again. Until he could find out if you wished to be his mate. “You took her choice away, Feyre,” he bit out, weighing his words carefully. “Anyone would be heartbroken by such a betrayal. Wouldn’t you agree?” 

Rhysand snarled, but Tamlin ignored him. He maintained eye contract with Feyre until she looked away, gesturing to the dining room. “Take a plate to her room. Just up the stairs, third door on the right.”

He gave a curt nod and did as directed. Every step weighed him down. Tamlin was grateful, at least, for the plate in his hand, to distract him from the sinking feeling in his chest. Neither you nor him had closed off the bond. Tamlin felt every bit of your anguish and he had done everything he could to send comfort down the bond. Every day, he prayed to the Mother that it helped you. Now, as he stood on the other side of your door, he wasn’t sure it did.

The door was ever so slightly ajar. Tamlin pushed it open. The sight nearly made him fall to his knees. You were laying in bed, back to him, staring out the large window overlooking the gardens. If it wasn’t for a subtle rise and fall of your chest, he might have thought you dead. Tamlin stepped inside, walking around your bed, until he faced you. He set the plate on your nightstand and knelt in front of you. 

“Have my dreams begun to torment me, too?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“No,” Tamlin whispered back. He reached out, cupping your face in his hand. His thumb run over the swell of your cheek. “I am here. I am real. Feyre allowed me to come.”

“I cannot even trust my subconscious now,” you said. You rolled over onto your back and stared up at the ceiling. Your comforter moved with you, revealing the papers you kept clutched against your chest. Your eyes fell shut. 

Tamlin sat on the edge of your bed. He reached over and brushed your hair from your face. “Open your eyes, please. I am here. Feyre had Rhysand send me a letter, inviting me here. I can show you if you like?”

An eye opened. “I doubt you could. Everyone knows that written word in dreams hardly makes sense.”

He pulled the letter tucked away in his pocket. Carefully unfolding it, he pressed it into your hands. Your other eye opened. Slowly, you sat up, dropping the other letters—his letters—from your grip. Your eyes scanned over the page, once, twice, three times. Slowly, you looked up, as if seeing him for the first time. 

“You’re here?”

“I am.”

“Feyre allowed it?”

“She did.”

Your hand moved to your mouth. You chewed on your thumbnail. “She would hate me if I left.”

“She would not. And, even if she did, that is her burden to bear. Feyre cannot keep you sheltered here anymore than I could her.” Tamlin grabbed the plate and held it out to you. “Could you eat first, before we talk about this? Please?”

You stared at the plate for a long, silent more. Tamlin nearly thought you hadn’t heard him. He was ready to ask again, the words on the tip of his tongue, when you looked up at him. “Could we go to the gardens to eat?” 

“Of course.” 

Tamlin extended a hand to you. You slipped yours into his grasp. Joy soured through him. He bit back his smile as he helped you to your feet. His hands were quick to move to your waist, steadying you as you swayed. How long had you been laying there, in that bed? Had you even left it? A part of him, a territorial part he worked hard to keep at bay, had half a mind to scold Feyre for waiting this long. He, of course, would be a hypocrite if he did. But you also deserved someone in your corner. 

Slowly, the two of you moved out of your room and down the stairs. At the creak in the wooden steps, all conversation in the dining room ceased. There was a scrape of a chair. Feyre appeared in the doorway as you reached the bottom step. You didn’t make eye contact with your sister as you turned for the exit. 

“Y/N wished to eat in the gardens,” Tamlin said and followed after you. He did not wait for Feyre’s response. 

You stared at Tamlin, chewing on the bread that Elain had made. He made no protest when you plopped yourself on the dirt path. He only sat across from you and watched as you slowly ate your food. It nearly made you sick, if you were honest. You hadn’t experienced this level of hunger since you were human. You remembered when Feyre would bring food home, how you would have to eat slowly so you wouldn’t vomit it all up. There was something about such extreme hunger that it almost felt like food couldn’t save you from the gnawing pain. 

“I still do not quite believe you’re really here,” you said. 

“I can promise you, I am.” Tamlin reached for your hand, and you allowed him to take it. His thumb stroked over your knuckles. “I have missed you. If I wasn’t concerned that an unprompted arrival would have waged a war no court could surely handle, I would have come sooner.”

“It was not right what they did…” You trailed off. 

Tamlin’s emerald green eyes twinkled with curiosity. “But?” he prompted. 

“I am not sure I can find it in my heart to leave them,” you said. His face dropped. His hand started to pull away, but you tightened your grip. “Feyre and Nesta are still here. While Feyre may have given the order to take me away, she is my sister. She sacrificed so much for our family. I feel like I would be throwing it all back in her face to go to Spring with you. At least when Elain left, she was going with Lucien to Day. People she could trust, you know. I worry that if I leave with you, she would never see me again.”

He straightened. “I would never keep you from your sister. Any of them. I have done little to prove such, but I have learned from my mistakes with Feyre. I have grown, am still growing, from them.”

“Not because of you,” you corrected. “You know how she feels about you. Even if I extend an invitation to her, she still may never come. And she may never extend one back. I could never forgive myself if I damaged our relationship so.”

Tamlin’s eyes searched yours. For what, you couldn’t be certain. 

“If she does so, she would be the one to damage the relationship. I have hurt her greatly, I understand. But, if she chooses to plant herself between you and I, that is her choice to make and her consequences to bear.” He reached over, cradling your face in his hand. “You are a grown female. If this is a mistake of its own, then it is your mistake to make. She cannot keep you here any better than I tried to keep her in Spring.”

You looked away. You pushed the plate away and began to rise. Tamlin followed after you. As you began to walk down the path, he trailed after you. He kept a distance between you, far enough that he wasn’t on your heels but close enough that he could be at your side in a few long strides. 

In your heart, you knew he was right. But you couldn’t shake the feeling of betrayal, no matter how hard you tried. After everything Feyre has done, after all she has suffered, staying with her was the least you could do. Yet, why would you sacrifice your happiness for hers when she was so quick to rip it from you without even listening to what you had to say? You could not yet forget  the cold look in her eyes as she ordered Rhysand to winnow you away. She was not your sister then. She was anything but. 

“Come to Spring,” Tamlin said from behind you. You paused in your step. You did not turn, but you listened. “It does not have to be permanent. Come to Spring, see if this is worth it. If you decide that it is not, then I will not stop you from returning here. I will respect whatever choice you make, but I would appreciate it if you could give us a fair shot. That is all I ask of you, I swear it.”

You turned. You looked past Tamlin at the River House. You were certain that Feyre and Rhysand were trying to listen in on the conversation. You were sure they were waiting for your answer. But, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care what they thought. After all, they hadn’t cared to ask if you even wanted Tamlin as a mate. 

“One chance,” you said. “One chance, and if I decide to that I would rather a relationship with Feyre, you must not follow.”

“I promise, whatever you decide in the end, I shall respect it.”

Feyre watched as you gripped Tamlin’s arm, an apologetic smile on your lips. She had a million things she wished to say to you—a hundred warnings, a few hundred thousand promises to have her door open to you if you ever want to come back, and an acceptance to the offer to visit Spring in a month’s time. Instead of saying any of those things, she mouthed a goodbye while Tamlin winnowed you away. 

Rhys’s hand fell to her shoulders, steadying her as she swayed on her feet. Somewhere in the distance, she could see Nesta and Cassian hovering. Elain and Lucien busied themselves with clearing the dishes. 

“She’ll be alright,” Rhys said. “He is not so stupid as to make the same mistakes again.”

Feyre hummed. “Is this where you say it's different with mates?”

Rhys rolled his eyes. “I’ve seen too many awful mated couples to say that with any ounce of sincerity. But, I will say, he does seem different with her.”

“And if he isn’t,” Nesta said, stepping toward her, “he will pay tenfold for any pain he causes her.”

Feyre nearly laughed as she watched Cassian nod enthusiastically to Nesta’s threat as he bounced Nyx on his hip. She could only hope that you knew how protected you were—that you had the entirety of the Night Court to support you should trouble ever make its way to you. But any laughter she had, any words she wanted to say, died in her throat as shadows flooded the River House. 

Azriel. 

Shit. Rhys had sent him off on a mission a few days prior. Azriel had been reluctant to go—one of the few times she was certain that Azriel would fight her mate to the death on an issue. But it was Feyre’s promise to keep you safe in the River House that gave him leave to go. She had forgotten that when she had the letter sent to Tamlin, when she bid you goodbye. You were gone now and, worse, you hadn’t said goodbye to him. 

“Where. Is. She.”

Feyre turned, looking at Azriel’s towering form darkening the doorway. His wings were flared out behind him, beating furiously as his shadows continued to search the home for any sign of you.

“She has gone to Spring, with Tamlin.”

Azriel growled. His nostrils flared. The shadows began to swirl around Feyre. Rhys took a step in front of her, ready to block any attack sent her way. Would Azriel attack her? Why would he be so upset about not being able to say goodbye to you? She knew he pined after you, but she thought it was like Mor and Elain. Something one-sided. Had she missed something? 

“It was her choice, brother,” Rhys said. “We are welcome to visit her whenever we so please. If you would like, we can go now, just so you may have a chance to talk to her.”

“If I go to Spring, I’m bringing her straight here. This is where she belongs. Not with that swine of a High Lord.”

“She has every right to choose to be with her mate—”

“No!” Azriel snapped. “I am her mate!”

It felt like time froze. Everyone stared at the Shadowsinger. Even Elain and Lucien came out from the kitchen, concern about his antics. Feyre blinked. No, that couldn’t be. Tamlin was your mate. You had felt the bond with him, and he you. 

“Triads are a thing of legend,” Rhys said slowly. “They haven’t existed in millennia…Cauldron, no one has ever been sure they were ever truly real. You aren’t suggesting…”

“All I know is that the bond snapped when I found her crying after Nyx’s birth, so certain she’d lose her sister, brother-in-law, and nephew in one fell swoop that all three of you surviving overwhelmed her. It snapped as I held her, trying to reassure her that all was right. That no one would hurt her or her family.” Azriel took a step toward them, glowering. “You have sent my mate into a lion’s den. Lesser males have killed for lesser slights.”

“Azriel, I’m sorry. I didn’t know—” Feyre tried. 

But he was already gone—wings rustling against the wind as he flew away. To where, she couldn’t say for certain. 

#tamlin imagine #tamlin x reader #tamlin x fem!reader #tamlin x female rader #tamlin x you #tamlin x y/n #tamlin fanfiction #tamlin fan fiction #tamlin fanfic #tamlin fan fic #tamlin fic #starrywrites #starryevermore

[imagine-a-life-like-this]

Not My Boyfriend : Teaser

Word Count : 0.7k

Warnings : drinking, swearing, mention of heartbreak, jealousy, arguing

A/N : I don't have an official release date for this story yet, but I wanted to get a teaser out for you. I want to finish Changbin's story before I start on this one, so hopefully the epilogue will be out soon and I can start this one! I'm really excited to share what I've been working on. Hope you enjoy!

          “Cheers to you!” She clinked glasses with Hongjoong, a smile spreading across her face as the two of them downed their respective shots. “I really am proud of you. You’ve been working so hard for this.” She placed a hand on his arm, giving him a sincere look so he knew she was serious.

            “Thank you, Y/n. I wouldn’t have been able to do it if it wasn’t for you, though.” She cocked her head to the side, raising an eyebrow at him, urging him to go on, tell him how she helped. He chuckled, shaking his head at her. “You really don’t know?”

            “How am I supposed to know, Kim Hongjoong?” She questioned, bringing her face closer to his. Hongjoong chuckled again, pushing her face away from his. “Tell me.” She pouted. And he knew he was going to tell her everything the second he saw it. As if her pout was a superpower. Drawing out any and all secrets you’ve kept hidden.

            “The theme for this exhibit was love and heartbreak.” He started slowly. Realization hit her and she took a step back. His name fell from her lips and he shook his head. “Y/n, I loved you in high school. Idiot.”

            “Oh.” She giggled.

            “And in the first year of university. But you met Minho and I moved on.” Hongjoong added with a laugh, taking a sip of his drink. “I like someone else now, but I the idea of a first love and the feeling of letting that go, I knew it would be a success.”

            “So what you’re saying is I should get half the profits.” Y/n teased.

            “I hate you.”

            “No you don’t.” Y/n said as she linked their arms, smiling over at Hongjoong. He smiled back at her, sliding her drink farther from her, telling her she’s had enough. “Look at you caring about me. How did I never notice?”

            “This is me being a friend. But you’re oblivious. You’ll never realize when someone likes you, no matter how obvious they make it.”

~

            Minho saw them from afar when he burst into the bar. Watched for a minute as they laughed and got too close for his liking. The way she was far too comfortable with him, a man that wasn’t him.

            He started walking towards them, fire in his veins, only seeing red. Hongjoong saw him first, and turned to whisper something to Y/n. She turned, and when their eyes met, it was like the world stopped. His anger melted and all that was left was jealousy. “Minho?” She seemed confused. Of course she would be. This was supposed to be her night out with her friend. But why didn’t she tell him the friend would be a guy?

            “Time to go home.” He said simply, grabbing her hand and dragging her out of the bar. She said goodbye to Hongjoong as she was dragged away. Part of her was angry that he would come and pull her away from her friend. But another part was swooning. Hopeful that her feelings weren’t one sided. But she stopped herself from feeling anything but anger. Stopped herself from feeling hopeful that they could be anything more than what they are.

            “Okay can you tell me what the fuck that was?” She asked, pulling her hand away, and crossing her arms over her chest. Minho turned around to face her, his anger and jealousy obvious.

            “When you said you were grabbing drinks with a friend I thought you meant a girl. Who the fuck even is that guy hmm?” She scoffed.

            “Hongjoong. You know him. We went to university together.” The name sounded familiar to Minho. One of the many guys that hung around her. One of the many guys that had feelings for her. Minho would know because he was one of them too.

            “That still doesn’t explain why you told me you were grabbing drinks with a friend after work instead of just telling me it was Hongjoong.” Minho countered. “If you two are really just friends, there would be no reason to hide that.”

            “Oh my god Minho. You’re not my boyfriend! It doesn’t matter who I grab drinks with. Who my friends are. Who I spend the day texting. You. Are. Not. My. Boyfriend.”

            “Well if you would pick up on my damn hints, I fucking would be!”

back to masterlist

Perm Taglist : @mxnsxngie @maeleelee @cadenonlinelive @turtledove824 @lakoya @lookitsjess @yukichan67 @qveenbibi @lghtdarling

Series Taglist :

pink means I couldn't tag you 🥺

#stray kids imagine #stray kids x reader #stray kids au #stray kids series #stray kids #skz imagine #skz x reader #skz au #skz series #skz #lee minho imagine #lee minho x reader #lee minho au #lee minho series #bang chan #lee minho #lee know #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #lee yongbok #kim seungmin #yang jeongin

[alittledizzy]

hewwoo requesting a ficlet pls :3 and i'll give you options

1) you can surprise me and write whatever your heart desires because you know all the me baits and i will love it regardless

2) hard launch

hard launch dan/phil rated g, 599 words

fics for Dan's birthday drive!

They’re in Brighton when the video drops.

Not at PJ’s; that’ll come later. Right now they’re on a rocky beach, and Phil is picking through stones trying to find a shell that looks just right. He’s distracted by the search and Dan envies that.

Nothing works to distract Dan. Not the ice cream still sweet on his tongue, or the ache in his legs from how much they’ve walked around, or the sounds of drunken teenagers shrieking from how cold the water is on their toes.

“Stop,” Phil orders him.

“Stop what?”

“Stop thinking.”

“I can’t,” Dan says.

“You can. You’re just not trying hard enough.”

“I’m - what?” He gives Phil a dumbfounded look. “We aren’t all blessed with your absence of brain, Lester.”

Phil grins wickedly and then shoves Dan. “Take it back.”

“What.”

“Take it back, Daniel. Take it back.” He shoves again.

Dan catches Phil’s arms and laughs, stopping the brutal attack. The abuse. Babuse. A million little moments of their life they stop owning the moment they share. A million pieces of them broken into pixels and sent out into bouncing signals. They could never get them back if they tried.

Dan’s hands fall away from Phil’s arms like they burn. They can’t get the video they just put out back, either. The cold gathers in the pit of Dan’s stomach. It’s a storm brewing, and then it’s a pebble hitting his forehead, and Phil’s eyes glaring in an exaggerated way.

“I’m cold,” Phil informs him.

“Do you want to leave?”

“I’m hungry, too.”

“We just had ice cream.”

“Ice cream isn’t food,” Phil says. “There’s a different stomach compartment for ice cream.”

“You failed biology, didn’t you?” Dan says.

“My mum taught me that,” Phil says. “She’s smarter than teachers.”

“She’s more creative at least,” Dan says.

“Are you insulting her? I’ll tell her.”

“I would never,” Dan says. “I’ll say you’re lying and she’ll believe me, because you were a demon monster child and I am her perfect angel son-in-law.”

Phil’s smile is suddenly bright and blinding. It’s not a picture perfect smile, but in a moment of sentiment that feels out of place in the swirl of anxiety building inside of him.

Dan wants to kiss him. He could kiss him. He could do it, right now.

He doesn’t. But he could. And the danger therein would be… minimal. Just the danger of exposure of Dan’s own soft underbelly. But somehow that seems scarier than a fifteen-year secret offered up on a platter for the feasting of viewers.

“What are you thinking?” Phil asks.

Dan answers with no thought to it. “I’m going to kiss you later.”

Phil grins. “I’ll hold you to that. I’m ready to go now, by the way.”

“Because you’re hungry. And cold,” Dan recites. “Any other complaints?”

“You’re not kissing me yet,” Phil says. It’s a stupid level of flirtatious, and it makes Dan bark with laughter.

“Idiot,” Dan says. “You’re so dumb. I hate you.”

“You love me,” Phil says, smile softening. “Come on. Let’s see if PJ and Sophie want us to bring food back to them.”

Dan isn’t stupid, and neither is Phil. This is just Dan’s turn. Phil will have his moments of worry, quiet contemplation he tries his best to fight against, until he snaps and Dan coaxes him through it.

This will be a burden off their backs. It will feel like freedom, the same way coming out did. But before it can become that it has to be a transition they help each other through, the way they always do.

#phan #phanfic

[madi-writes-things]

Partners In Crime

Summary:

Matt leads a dangerous life, and his wife is keeping one hell of a secret. What happens when she almost loses her chance to tell him?

Word Count: 738

TW: Angst with happy ending, hurt/comfort, near death experience, guns, mafia, hidden pregnancy

A/N: This fic is a submission for the Bratzfornick141 writing contest!!! Hosted by @bratzforchris & @nicksbestie (Angst, Mafia X Goody, Taking Care Of Each Other, Hiding a Big Secret)

-Madi <3

“”“”“”“”“”

I stare down at two pink lines on the bathroom counter, as I realize that I don’t know what to do. I love Matt so much, and I know he wants a family together… but it’s not safe with the work that he does. He does his best to protect me from it, but I know I’m always in danger. I know that he would leave it all behind to start a family with me, but I can’t ask him to leave behind the life he built with his brothers.

I’ll just wait until the time is right, and then I’ll tell him. Whatever he decides is going to be okay.

“”“”“”“”“”

Three Weeks Later

I quickly walk through the warehouse, towards my husband’s office. He hates it when I visit him at work, but this is too important to wait. I understand his hesitation with letting me into this part of his life… he just doesn’t want to risk me getting hurt, but there’s no way I let him out of my sight for too long. I’m constantly worried that something will happen to him, but there’s no way that he would leave the empire that he built from the ground up.

“what are you doing here?” He’s already annoyed. I had no choice but come to him, since he refused to come home early. “You know I hate it when you come here, I can’t let anything happen to you baby.”

“I have to tell you something…” All of the sudden it’s like the words refuse to leave my mouth. I didn’t mean to hide it from him for so long, but we’ve seen each other for a total of one hour over the last two weeks… I can’t keep a secret like this anymore. “Matt… I’m p-” all of the sudden I’m getting pushed to the ground by my husband.

I hear it, before I see the reason. It’s all so sudden. The guards tackle a man with a gun in his hand. Then it clicks.

“MATT!” He’s toppling to the floor, and I barely stop his head from hitting the ground.

no.

no.

nononononononono.

this isn’t happening… this can’t be real… wake up!

my husband lays with his head in my lap, gasping for air and wincing in pain. The black button up that he wear is slowly turning a dark shade of maroon.

I place my hand directly under his left rib and push down hard. “MNPHH… Did he hit you?!?!” Matt reaches up to my shoulder trying to decipher whether I was hurt or not.

“No, I’m okay…” suddenly there are guards pulling Matt away from me, and escorting us to a blacked out car. Once we’re in the backseat, I tear open Matt’s shirt…

there’s so much blood…

Shit.

all of the sudden everything starts spinning, as I feel the bile rising in my throat. I quickly reach for my purse and dump it out, before emptying the contents of my stomach into it. I quickly zip it up and turn back to Matt, taking his shirt off completely and using it to apply pressure to the wound. He’s squirming away from my touch, but I can’t stop applying pressure… I can’t lose him.

“I know baby… I know it hurts, but you’re going to be okay… you have to be okay.” I’ve never seen Matt so pale.

why won’t the blood stop?

”it’s o… okay, I love you so much ma, a…and I know that you will be oka- okay, no matter what happens.” He gasps for air. This can’t be real.

“NO!” He looks at me, this time less scared of death, and more scared of me. “You aren’t allowed to die…” he tries to argue again, but I cut him off. “NO, You aren’t allowed to make me a single mother!” I choke on my tears as I say it, and it feels like something in Matt’s eyes changes.

“okay… I won’t leave you alone.” He says softly.

we finally arrive at the safe house after what feels like hours, and they sweep Matt away to get him to emergency surgery. Nick and Chris arrive shortly after.

“WHAT HAPPENED?!?!” Nick screams as he runs up to me. I flinch back at his volume. Chris gently grabs my arm, in an attempt to comfort me.

“it’s all my fault… he pushed me out of the way, and I couldn’t stop him… I think it was someone who works for y’all, the guard tackled him… it was supposed to be me.” I devolved into sobs and apologies, as Chris and Nick hold me. We sit like that for what feels like an eternity.

“”“”“”“”“”

when they finally allow visitors, Chris and Nick tell me to go first. I nearly burst into tears when I see Matt, fragile and tangled in wires.

“Hey, ma… or should I say Mama?” With that I run to his side sobbing. He manages to adjust himself so that I can lay with him. I fall asleep peacefully with him next to me, knowing that our little family will be okay.

“”“”“”“”“”

@unbruisable @bernardsbendystraws @sturniolo-fann @jnkvivi

#bratzfornick’s 141 writing challenge #madi writes things #matthew bernard sturniolo #major character injury #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fanfiction #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt x reader #matthew sturniolo x reader #mattsturniolo

[abiiors]

HI HELLO HI this is a half-formed, fully horny, wedding guest ross concept. i'm not fully back to writing yet but ross in white is a damn good muse!!!!

cw: minors dni!!! smut, finger fucking in a bathroom, alcohol consumption, smoking, typos probably-i wrote this at work

you haven't really met a lot of john's friends yet, that's probably why you don't remeber seeing this handsome stranger across the bar, cigarette dangling between his fingers, a glass of whiskey in his hands that he sips from so lazily.

he's busy in conversation, you're busy gawking at him, wondering how you've never seen him before (and this you're sure of because let's face it, there's no way you're forgetting this man if you'd ever had the chance to talk to him before.) much to your surprise, he's alone--well, his group of friends is there and he seems particularly close with the groom but there's no date in sight. at least you hope not, because you've definitely caught him staring a few times--long, hard, lingering stares that make you feel like you're about to spontaneously combust.

"this seat taken?" he comes up from behind you just when you're think he's too busy socialising. you smile to yourself, throw him a coy smile too.

"not if you're the one asking."

"is that right?" he smirks and settles into the chair. up close he's hotter somehow--the white shirt clings to him in ways that have you drooling. he takes a quick drag of his cigarette and exhales the smoke to one side.

"ross," he introduces himself quickly, "no one told me there would be gorgeous bridesmaids."

you take a sip of your wine and tsk, "'m not a bridesmaid."

"so you're not off limits then?"

"off limits for...?"

he takes a sip of his whisky and leans in, almost like he's about to divulge a secret. then he looks you up and down slowly, gaze landing on your lips. you get the vague sense that he's undressing you in his head, and it sends heat swirling in your gut. "don't pretend like you weren't undressing me with your eyes, darling."

"and if i admitted to it?" you challenge, "what will you do about it?"

ross leans even closer, his breath fanning your face, his fingers are on your wrist, cool from the whiskey and deliciously callused. he draws circles on the skin. "i hear the first floor bathroom is not open to guests."

"is that right?" you mimic him, smirking when he nods.

"we can sneak in though. if you want?"

in one quick gulp you finish your wine and stand, smoothing down your dress that reaches just past your knees. he's up in an instant too, towering over you and so close that you can practically taste the heat radiating off him.

"lead the way," you giggle and he takes your hand in his.

--------------------

the marble edges of the countertop dig into your ass, his fingers dig into your thighs, and yet all of that simply fades to the background when you kiss--hungry and feverish, teeth clashing against each other, your lip caught between his teeth until you hiss and he slips his tongue in.

his hand snakes down your side, effortlessly undoing the hidden zip until you feel cool breeze against your ribs, and then his fingers--his big, warm, rough fingers, tracing the visible skin, leaving goosebumps behind.

hastily you loosen his tie and move on to his belt, fumbling with it until it's almost undone. ross laughs into your mouth.

"so impatient!" he tsks, "is that how much you want me?"

"the undressing with my eyes didn't give it away?" you retort, and finally undo the belt, sliding it out of the hooks and off his waist. it goes flying in some corner of the bathroom, clinks against a wall.

"turn," he pants, and the moment you obey, his hand are on the straps, pulling them down and off your shoulders until the dress falls just below your chest.

"fuck, darling!" he curses at the sight in the mirror--you, utterly breathless with messy hair and swollen lips. your peaked nipples are fully on display now. his eyes turn darker, taking you in hungrily, then he moves.

the moment his fingers close around your nipples, you moan, head thrown back and eyes closed and ass backed into his crotch where you can feel him completely. he's painfully hard and deliciously big and just the thought of him in you makes you clench around nothing.

"oh you are testing me," you grit out, desperate to be touched. his fingers circling your nipples feels good, his hand snaking down your body feels good, but you need more and more and more, you need him until everything other memory in you brain is replaced by the feel of his cock pounding into you.

he laughs, mouth hot on your neck, "what would you like me to do then?"

"touch me!" you hiss.

"like this?" his hand snakes down, bunching up the fabric of your dress until it's lifted up and around your waist. you close your eyes in anticipation, waiting, shivering when his fingers trace the inside of your thigh--up and up and up and---

"oops," ross grins, and rips the flimsy lacy underwear off you in one smooth motion. you gape at him in the mirror, but then his fingers are on you, circling your clit at a delicious pace and the buzzing in your head grows so loud, you forget the stupid underwear and forget the cold marble digging into your hips.

you moan, clutching on to the countertops when your knees threaten to buckle. "yes--god, yes, like that..."

tentatively he dips a finger in you and your breath hitches. ross clearly likes the reaction because a moment later he plunges a finger inside you, rubbing your clit with his thumb, thrusting the finger in and out and in and out until without warning he adds a second and you have to bite on the palm of your hands to stifle your scream.

"fuck, you'll kill me with those sounds you make," he growls in your ear, and increases his pace. you barely care to answer, mumbling something in gibberish, entirely focused on the feel of his fingers dipping in and out of you, of his thumb pressing into your clit and his cock digging into your ass.

heaven...is exactly how you'd describe it. your body agrees too--tensing and tensing until you're panting and barely even controlling the moans anymore. fuck it, it's fine if anyone walks in at this point. you and ross can put on a good show!

"'m so close," you moan, "ke-keep going, shit!"

and he does, his other hand snakes around your hips, holding you in place so he can reach deeper, hit your sweet spot with his long, thick fingers every time. your head spins, overwhelmed, dizzy and---

there's no warning like there usually is, all you know is that your vision goes white, your body feels slack and with a cry you cum all over his hand, holding onto the countertop to stay upright somehow. ross holds you too, dipping his fingers in and out slowly so you can ride out your orgasm. his hand feels wet and slick, your release coating his fingers. he looks like he's enjoying it though...

the moment you open your eyes, he holds your jaw in place, making you look at him in the mirror, them he places his fingers on his tongue, licking and sucking every corner, making you watch the filthy scene unfolding, making you wetter by the minute somehow.

"delicious," he moans, right in your ear. "ready for round two?"

you bite your lip and nod. "ready for round two."

#MINORS DO NOT INTERACT #ross macdonald #ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald x you #♡: ross blurbs #mdni #minors dni

[wosoluver]

Little family

Part 3

Lena x reader

"Obi can you give me a ride to training this week? I have to take my car to get fixed. This morning I ubered here."

"What? Why didn't you text me? I would've gave you a ride this morning too."

"I didn't want to be a bother." you said tying up your boots

"You're never a bother.

Be careful you're going to drop Libby!" she said moving to get the plushie bunny before she fell from the bench to the floor. Putting it sitting on top of her own stuff.

You just nodded thankfully at her, as the two of you walked out to the field.

Unknowingly to you, your friends stayed behind just so they could comment on the unbelievable scene that had unfolded before them.

"There's actually no way! They are literally an old married couple!" said Georgia.

"It's driving me insane to watch them be so oblivious!" said Lea as she tied up her hair.

"I swear if I have to go through this one more week..." said Syd as she turned around. "Do something Libby! Like, haven't you chose Lena as your other mom already?"

"You want a teddy bear to do something?" asked Pernille. "You do something!"

"Fine!" answered Syd.

"Fine?" a few of the girls said in unison, confused by what she meant.

"We should set up a plan to get them to confess!" she answered once again.

"I don't know if that's a good idea." said Sam.

"Come on! The worst thing that can happen is them getting married in secret so they don't have to invite us." she tried to reason.

"Fuck it, I'm in!" said Lea.

"Well, that didn't take much convincing.

I'll help too." said Georgia.

And some of them joined in too.

"We might need Libby."

"I don't know if-"

When it was time to leave, after getting cleaned up, you turned to Lena.

"Ready to go?"

"Yeah, do you want to stop at the coffee shop?"

You only nodded. Walking to the car side by side.

And the girls stayed behind once again.

"I don't think she noticed." said Georgia.

"She'll notice trust me."

As she parked the car on the usual spot you always were in, you reached for the bunny, only she wasn't there.

"Obi, are you carrying Libby?"

"I don't have her."

"What do you mean?"

"She's not with me."

"But you left her along with your stuff!"

"I thought you had grabbed her from it."

"Why would I?! I always trust you with her!" your tone rising.

"Okay, I know you're nervous, but I'm on your side here. I would never be careless with something you care so much about! I won't ever put you on that situation! That's not how you treat someone you love." she blurred out in the heat of the moment.

You took a pause to recompose yourself and make sure your heart didn't leave your body.

She most likely didn't mean it like that, and you were just trying to feel some sort of mutual feeling from her.

"Sorry, for almost yelling at you. You're one of the best friends I have, I know y-"

"Best... friend?" she asked, almost coming out as a whisper.

"Yeah, sorry if you don't feel like that, it's totally fine. We can be just, friends?" you said scared to say anything else wrong.

Obi simply shook her head in disbelief. Had she just confessed she felt something more? And had you just turned her down?

"No! I mean I like you more than a friend, more than a best friend." she said with a defeat look on her face.

"You...do?"

And she only nodded, avoiding your eyes.

"I do too." you said with a hand on her cheek, making sure she was looking your way.

You stared at each other for a bit, just taking in the moment. Before she calmly pressed her lips onto yours.

"Let's go back to get her." she said as soon as you parted, resting her forehead on yours. Still with her eyes closed, but she could feel you nodding your head.

meanwhile the girls were still sitting around waiting for you two to show up, to look for your bunny.

"I'm loosing hope, I don't think they're coming back anytime soon." said Pernille.

Some were siting on the bench or the floor, others were lying around. Lea was about to protest when you walked in, holding onto Lena's hand. Immediately spotting the plushie sitting in the middle of the room.

"Did it work?!" screamed Syd.

"Why are you all still here? And what do you mean by that?" you wanted a confession, already suspecting then.

They all looked at each other.

"It was Sydney's idea!" said Georgia.

"No! Pernille was the one who said so!"

"Only because you all wouldn't quit complaining about them being so unaware!"

You and Obi shared a look, shaking your heads and letting out a slight laugh.

"We should have known." she said.

"So?" asked Lea waiting for a resolution.

And you only hid your face in Lena's neck, becoming shy from all the looks, and she placed a small kiss on your forehead.

As they all cheered loudly.

And Lea grabbed Libby before covering her eyes. "Get a room!" joining in with a joke

Again thank you to the amazing anon who came up with the idea for Little family! 🩷

Requests are open!

#woso x reader #lena oberdorf #lena oberdorf x reader