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pucksandpower · 1 year ago

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Welcome to Miami

Lando Norris x Messi!Reader

Summary: a crazy weekend in Miami leaves Lando with his first Formula 1 win, one very pissed off football legend, and a baby-shaped surprise set to arrive in just about nine months

Warnings: 18+ content and unplanned pregnancy

Note: based on a request by @glitterquadricorn that I may have ended up going a little overboard with

You wake up with a pounding headache, squinting against the bright sunlight streaming through the hotel room window. As you blink your eyes into focus, you realize you’re not in your own bed. The sheets are unfamiliar, the decor is generic and impersonal.

Panic starts to set in as you try to reconstruct the previous night’s events.

The space next to you is still warm, indented from where someone else was recently lying. You glance down at your lack of clothes and tousled hair. Yep, definitely had a one-night stand.

Wracking your brain, you vaguely recall meeting a charming stranger at the club, letting him buy you drinks until everything became a blur of flirtatious banter and wandering hands.

Your phone is on the nightstand and you grab it, hoping for some clues. A new contact catches your eye: “Lando 🍆”. You snort at the stupid name and obvious (if cringey) innuendo. At least he has a sense of humor.

You wonder what kind of guy calls himself Lando these days.

As you get dressed and leave the hotel, already trying to put the awkward walk of shame behind you, fragments of the night come back in flashes. Lando’s warm blue-green eyes crinkling at the corners when he laughed. His skilled hands roaming over your body. The way he whispered filthy praises in your ear between searing kisses.

You shiver, feeling an unexpected pang of disappointment that you’ll never see him again. But a one-night stand is just that — one night. No need to dwell on the best sex you’ve had in … well, maybe ever.

When you arrive home in the early afternoon, your dad greets you at the door with a knowing smirk.

“Have a good night, mija?” Leo teases, taking in your mussed appearance.

You roll your eyes, not wanting to give him any details. “It was fine.”

He chuckles. “If you say so. I’m just glad you’re home safe.”

Over the next few weeks, you put Lando out of your mind completely. Your life goes on as normal — training with the University of Miami’s football team, doing promotional appearances, and spending time with family and friends.

But then one morning about a month later, you wake up feeling nauseous. You brush it off as a stomach bug at first.

When the queasiness persists for several days along with strange cravings and bouts of fatigue, a nagging suspicion forms in your mind. You dig through your bathroom cabinets until you find an old pregnancy test leftover from a scare last year.

Your hands are shaking as you wait for the result. This can’t be happening. You were so careful with Lando, you’re almost certain … but maybe not careful enough.

The little plastic wand displays two solid pink lines. Positive.

“Oh shit,” you whisper, feeling like the ground has dropped out from underneath you.

How could you have been so stupid? Getting knocked up from a drunken one-night stand with a guy you can’t even remember properly. What are you going to do? How will you tell your parents? What about your athletic career?

A million thoughts race through your panic-stricken mind as you try to process this massive, life-altering situation. You want to call your best friend and cry, but you’re almost too overwhelmed to formulate words.

Part of you wants to be furious at Lando, that reckless idiot who came inside you so carelessly. But you know you’re just as much to blame. You obviously consented, you just can’t recollect the exact circumstances.

God, why did you let yourself get so sloppy drunk and make such terrible decisions?

You take a deep, shuddering breath, trying to calm yourself. Okay, first things first — you need to confirm this with a visit to the doctor. And if it’s still positive, you’ll have to figure out your next steps. Tell your family, decide whether to keep the baby or not. That’s still your choice, at least.

Your mind keeps drifting back to Lando, wishing you knew more about him than just a stupid contact name. Was that even his real name? What did he do for a living? Where was he from? Was he ready for the responsibility of being a father? Not that it mattered — you barely knew him. For all you knew, he could be married or secretly twisted.

No, you reason with yourself, trying to shut down that line of thinking, he seemed like a good guy. At least in the moment. Even through your tequila-soaked haze, you got a feeling of genuine warmth and kindness from him. Maybe you’re both just a couple of random people who made a reckless mistake after having too much fun together.

You take another breath and stand up, your mind made up. First, you’ll go to the doctor and get an official test. Then you’ll deal with everything else from there. There’s no use panicking until you confirm this is actually happening.

But deep down, you know this cheap little test is accurate. You’re pregnant with a virtual stranger’s baby. And in that moment, feeling so lost and overwhelmed and terrified, you can’t help but wonder — who the hell is Lando?

***

You sit on the couch, hands trembling as you clutch the results of your blood test. Tears stream down your face as the weight of the situation crushes down on you.

How could you have been so reckless? So stupid? You’re supposed to be a role model, setting an example for young girls. And now you’re pregnant from a one-night stand with some random guy.

The shame and fear swirl inside you until you can barely breathe. You need to tell your dad. He’ll be so disappointed in you. But you can’t keep this a secret, it will only get harder as your belly grows.

You hear the front door open and your dad’s familiar footsteps. Bracing yourself, you call out in a shaky voice, “Papa? Can you come here please?”

Leo wanders into the living room, his expression turning to immediate concern when he sees your tear-stained face. “Mija, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

You shake your head, bottom lip trembling as you try to find the words. “I … I’m pregnant,” you finally choke out.

His eyes go wide with shock. “Pregnant? How …” Realization dawns on his face. “Was this from that night you came home ...” He doesn’t need to finish the question.

You nod miserably, a fresh wave of tears falling. “I’m so sorry, Papa. I was drunk and stupid and … and I don’t even know who the father is, not really.” The words tumble out in a rush. “Just some guy I met at a club, his name was Lando or something. I barely remember anything!”

To your surprise, your dad’s expression softens into something like sympathy instead of the anger or disappointment you expected. He moves to sit beside you, wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulders.

“Shh, it’s alright mija. I’m not happy about this situation, but I’m not angry at you either. We all make mistakes.” He pauses, seeming to think something over. “This Lando guy … was it around the time of the Miami Grand Prix in early May?”

You nod again, not understanding the connection. “I think so, why?”

A look of recognition crosses your dad’s face. “There’s a young driver in Formula 1. I’m a bit of a fan actually, been following his career when I have the chance. It’s not the most common name.”

Your breath catches in your throat as the pieces fall into place. The drunk recollections of warm color-changing eyes and a charming smile. The weird name followed by that stupid eggplant emoji in your contacts.

It all fits.

“Oh my god … you think the father is Lando Norris? Like, the Formula 1 driver?” Part of you wants to dismiss the idea as ridiculous, but another part feels an undeniable certainty that your dad has hit the nail on the head.

Leo nods firmly. “I think it’s highly likely. He was in Miami for the race that weekend. Reckless kid probably went out partying after finally managing to win.”

There’s a hard edge to your dad’s voice at that last part. You can’t really blame his protectiveness — finding out your daughter is pregnant from a one-night stand, especially with a relative celebrity, can’t be easy for any father.

“What am I going to do?” You whisper, scared all over again at the massive upheaval your life is facing.

But your dad just pulls you into a tighter hug, his touch reassuring and strong. “We’ll figure it out together, mija. Don’t worry. If this Lando character is the father, he’ll damn well take responsibility. I’ll make sure of it.”

You let out a shaky breath, letting your dad’s words soothe you. He’s right — you’re not in this alone. And if Lando Norris really is the father, well, he signed up for this whether he knew it or not.

“Thank you, Papa. I was so scared to tell you, but I shouldn’t have been. I’m lucky to have you.” You hug him fiercely, fresh tears spilling but this time born of reassurance instead of fear.

Leo just holds you close, his embrace full of fatherly love and protection. “Always, mija. I’ve got your back, no matter what. We’ll get through this together.”

After a few moments, he pulls back, his expression turning more stern. “And as for this Lando kid, he better step up and be a man about this situation. Because if he tries to abandon you or this baby ...” He lets the implied threat hang in the air.

You can’t help but give a watery laugh. “I have a feeling he won’t want to mess with you. Not if he knows what’s good for him.”

Your dad allows a small smile at that. “Smart boy. Now, do you have a way to contact him? I’m sure someone can get us his information if not.”

You think for a moment, then remember — your phone contacts. You grab your cell and pull up the fateful entry.

“Here, just this number with the stupid eggplant emoji.” Your cheeks flush a little as you say it.

Leo arches an eyebrow at that but doesn’t comment. Instead, he takes out his own phone and dials the number, his expression hardening with determination.

“Right, listen up, Lando Norris ...” he begins, leaving no room for argument.

You take a steadying breath as your dad starts laying down the law to the man who knocked up his precious daughter. For the first time since staring at those two pink lines, you feel a tiny kernel of hope taking root.

No matter what happens, you’re not alone in this. Your dad has your back, and Lando — well, Lando better prepare himself. Because when Leo Messi demands you take responsibility for your actions, you don’t dare say no.

***

Lando jolts awake to the harsh buzz of his phone vibrating against the nightstand. He blinks blearily at the harsh red numbers of the alarm clock — 2:51 am. Who the hell is calling at this ungodly hour?

He fumbles for the phone, squinting at the unknown number with a +1 country code. Probably a spam call from across the pond. He’s tempted to just silence it, but something makes him swipe to answer with a groggy “Hello?”

“Lando Norris?” The deep voice on the other end is vaguely familiar, but Lando can’t quite place it in his sleep-addled state.

“Yeah, this is him. Who’s this?” He tries and fails to smoother a huge yawn.

“This is Lionel Messi.”

Lando’s eyes shoot wide open, any lingering drowsiness evaporating like he’s been doused with ice water. Leo freaking Messi is on the phone with him? His brain scrambles to comprehend what’s happening.

“I … uh … Mr. Messi, sir. This is … I mean … wow. What an honor!” He cringes at his own stammering, feeling very much like a star-struck fanboy rather than a fellow professional athlete.

Messi’s voice remains calm but firm. “I’ll get right to the point. Do you remember a young woman you slept with recently? The night of the Miami Grand Prix a few months ago?”

Lando feels his stomach drop out. Suddenly this phone call is taking on a very different context than just a casual chat with a sports legend. He racks his brain, trying to recall the handful of women he’d casually hooked up with around that time.

There was that petite blonde from the club after sprint qualifying … no, she was just a make-out in the back alley behind the valet. The pair of Brazilian bombshell twins he’d brought back to his hotel room on Saturday … no, they made him get tested after that escapade just to be safe.

Then it clicks into place — the gorgeous young woman with a killer smile that he’d met at the LIV Nightclub afterparty. They had danced and drank together all night until everything descended into a sweaty, semi-public grope fest in one of the VIP booths before he convinced her to come back to his suite.

He remembers her gasping and whimpering his name as he pounded into her from behind. Remembers the way her nails raked down his back when he made her come apart with his tongue. Remembers being too drunk and worked up to put on a condom before sinking back into her tight, wet heat and ...

Oh shit.

“I … yes, sir. I think I know who you’re referring to,” Lando forces out, his mouth incredibly dry.

“Good. Then you’ll remember getting my daughter pregnant that night as well.”

Lando actually feels the blood drain from his face, a rushing sound filling his ears. He must have misheard, right? There’s no way Leo freaking Messi just said Lando got his daughter pregnant!

“I … I’m sorry … your what?” He sputters out dumbly.

Messi’s tone takes on a steely edge. “My daughter. The young woman you slept with, she’s my daughter. And now she’s pregnant with your child.”

The room starts to spin. Lando tries to force air into his lungs, feeling like he might actually pass out. “Oh my god, I … I had no idea! We were both so drunk, I never would have … oh fuck, I’m so sorry, sir!”

“Sorry doesn’t really fix this, does it?” Messi’s voice is like sharpened steel. “You got my little girl pregnant from some drunken fling and now she has to deal with all of this.”

“I … yes, you’re right. Completely right.” Lando presses trembling fingers to his throbbing temples. This can’t actually be happening, right? “What … what do you want me to do? I’ll do anything, whatever you need!”

There’s a weighted pause on the line before Messi speaks again, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“First, you’re going to meet with me and my daughter in person so we can discuss this situation. Then you’re going to take responsibility and be a part of this child’s life, understood? Step up and be a man about it.”

“Yes! Yes, absolutely, of course!” Lando is nearly shouting into the phone, desperation and panic clawing at his throat. “Whatever you want, sir. I’ll be there. Just tell me when and where.”

“Good. I’ll have my people set it up and send the details to your team.” There’s a hint of grudging approval in Messi’s voice now, like he’s satisfied Lando appears to be taking this seriously. “I suggest you get some sleep, you’re going to need it.”

The line goes dead before Lando can respond. He stares dumbly at the silent phone in his hand for several long moments, trying to process everything.

Leo Messi’s daughter.

Pregnant.

With his baby.

Holy shit, what has he done? What is he going to do? How did one reckless, drunken night blow up into such a massive catastrophe?

His head is spinning and he can feel his overtaxed body starting to shut down from the shock and stress of the harrowing phone call. He tries to take a deep breath, pushing away the panic and leaning back against the pillows.

Sleep. Right. He needs sleep if he has any hope of dealing with … with all of this. But how can he possibly rest now?

Lando’s eyes start to drift closed despite his whirling thoughts. His body has other plans, sucking him under into blessed unconsciousness as he slumps fully back onto the mattress.

The last thing he’s dimly aware of is his phone slipping from his hand and clattering to the floor, followed by his own body going entirely limp.

When Lando finally does manage to sleep, it’s to the terrifying vision of Leo Messi’s furious face snarling “you got my daughter pregnant” over and over again behind his closed eyelids.

***

The flight from Nice to Miami feels like it takes an eternity, but also happens in a terrifying blur. Lando can barely remember booking the first available ticket, throwing some clothes into an overnight bag, or making his way to the airport in a daze. He runs on autopilot, his mind spinning in frantic circles.

He got Leo Messi’s daughter pregnant. How is this his life?

A private chauffeur is waiting at the baggage claim when Lando deplanes in Miami, holding up a printed sign with his name. Of course Messi would have people to handle something like this.

Lando swallows hard and approaches the stern-faced driver. “I’m Lando Norris. Uh, Mr. Messi is expecting me?”

The chauffeur gives him an appraising look but doesn’t respond beyond a curt nod. He turns on his heel, expecting Lando to follow.

The drive to the Messis’ palatial Miami mansion is silent and tense. Lando fights the urge to fidget anxiously, his knee bouncing until he forces himself still.

Get it together, man. This is it.

All too soon, they’re pulling through an immaculate gate onto perfectly manicured grounds surrounding the huge home. Lando takes a steadying breath as the driver gets his bag from the trunk.

Then the front door is swinging open and there’s Leo Messi himself, looking as intimidating as Lando has ever seen the football icon. His expression is stony, jaw clenched tight as he measures Lando up.

Before Lando can even open his mouth, Messi beats him to it, tone leaving no room for argument.

“I don’t like you.”

The words are like a kick to the gut. Lando forces himself to hold the steely gaze, giving a small nod.

“I understand, sir. I’ve made a terrible mistake and you have every right to be angry with me. I’ll accept whatever consequences I have to.” His voice is strong, despite the way his heart is jack-hammering in his chest.

Messi holds the intense eye contact a moment more before giving a short nod of what might be begrudging respect. He turns and heads inside, clearly expecting Lando to follow.

The foyer opens into an elegant living room where a familiar woman is sitting on one of the plush couches.

You.

Lando’s breath catches in his throat as memories from that hazy night come rushing back. Your skin glowing with a thin sheen of sweat as you moved rhythmically to the music. Your throaty laugh and sparkling eyes as you flirted shamelessly over your fourth … no fifth … mojito. The velvet silk of your hair brushing his face as you ground down against his lap.

He swallows hard, trying not to stare. The situation is awkward enough without dwelling on the admittedly incredible sex that caused this whole mess. Though he can’t deny the sharp spike of pure physical want that hits his gut at the sight of you.

Your eyes are wide and nervous as you take him in. “Um … hi.”

“Hi,” he replies simply, feeling incredibly self-conscious under the weighty stare of your legendary father.

An agonizing beat of silence stretches between the three of you.

“Well?” Leo prompts impatiently, making you both jump. “You got my daughter pregnant. What do you plan to do about it?”

The blunt words make Lando’s face flush hot, but he forces himself to meet your father’s stern gaze head-on.

“Whatever I need to do, sir. I’ll take full responsibility. Financially, emotionally, being there for the child … anything you need from me.” He pauses, feeling heat creep up the back of his neck. “That is … if the mother wants me to be involved as well?”

He looks at you then, trying to convey his sincerity. Despite the casual nature of your hook-up, he meant what he said — he will step up and do the right thing for this kid.

His kid.

You seem to consider his words for a long moment before giving a small nod. “Yes … yes, I’d like you to be involved if you’re willing. This is as much my responsibility as yours. We … we can figure this out. Together?”

The uncertain note in your voice tugs at something in Lando’s chest. For all your father’s bluster, you just sound like a young woman in a scary, overwhelming situation. Just like him.

“Together,” he agrees firmly, returning your nod. “We’ll, ah, we’ll be good co-parents. For the baby.”

The words feel strange leaving his lips, but also fill him with a sense of resolve and determination.

Leo watches the exchange between you both like a hawk, his expression unreadable. When he speaks again, his words are measured but dismissive.

“Get it sorted out then. Find a way to make this work. I don’t care about the details as long as you two take care of my grandchild properly.”

With that, he gives a curt nod and turns to exit the room, leaving you and Lando to your own devices. The sudden lack of his intimidating presence seems to deflate the tension somewhat.

You let out a long, shaky breath, shooting Lando a wry look. “He’s … taking this about as well as could be expected, all things considered.”

Lando can’t help but huff out a surprised laugh at that, some of the nervous knot in his stomach loosening slightly. “Yeah, I’ll say. Your dad is legitimately terrifying, you know that?”

“Oh, I’m well aware,” you say with a small smile.

An odd sense of camaraderie falls over you both then — two young people bonding over how Lando quite literally knocked you up. It’s almost enough for him to relax a bit.

Then you glance down at your still-flat stomach and all humor drains away. “So … co-parents, huh? You really want to do this?”

Lando doesn’t even have to think about it. “Of course. It’s my kid too, yeah? My responsibility, like I said.” He pauses, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s not exactly how I pictured becoming a father, but … I’m in this all the way. For the little one’s sake.”

Something in your expression softens at his words and a tiny smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. “Thank you, Lando. That … that really means a lot to hear.”

Before he can think better of it, Lando closes the distance between you and pulls you into an impulsive hug. You stiffen for just a moment before relaxing against him.

“Hey, we’re gonna be okay, you and me,” he murmurs as he holds you close. “We’ve got this, baby mama.”

You stiffen again and pull back sharply at the words, a look of mortification on your face. Lando frowns in confusion until a familiar gravelly voice cuts through the room.

“Lando Norris, I swear if you ever call my daughter that again, they’ll never find your body.”

Leo Messi is back, leveling Lando with a look that would liquefy steel. The driver nearly swallows his tongue, flushing scarlet.

“Y-yes, sir! Of course, sir! It, ah, it won’t happen again!” He stammers out, mentally making a note to permanently delete those words from his vocabulary.

Messi just grunts in response, apparently satisfied, before retreating from the room once more.

You’re staring at Lando with wide eyes and badly-suppressed laughter. He groans, dropping his face into his hands.

“Why did I say that? God, I’m an idiot.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him, that smile breaking free. “This is just … all a bit surreal, isn’t it?”

Lando peeks through his fingers to meet your gaze, unable to stop the rueful grin that spreads across his own face.

“Just a bit, yeah.” He drops his hands with a defeated chuckle. “But your dad’s right — we’ve got to take this seriously for the little one.”

You nod, smile fading into a look of grim determination. “We do. Which means you can’t call me baby mama if you actually want to stay alive to see your child.”

“Deal,” Lando agrees readily, feeling lighter than he has since your father first called to drop that bomb on him.

Maybe co-parenting won’t be easy, but somehow he gets the sense you two just might be able to figure it out. And with the entire weight of Leo freaking Messi’s protective rage motivating him, Lando is damn sure going to try his best.

***

Ten Months Later

The vibrant Miami sun beams down on you as you carefully lift Maia out of her stroller, cradling the bundle of joy in your arms. Your daughter’s wide, curious eyes dart around, taking in all the sights and sounds of the paddock for the first time.

“There they are! My two favorite girls,” Lando’s voice rings out as he jogs over, already wearing his team gear in preparation for the drivers parade. He leans down to press a kiss to your cheek before turning his attention to Maia. “And how’s my little princess doing today?”

Maia lets out a delighted squeal and you can’t help but smile at the pure adoration on Lando’s face as he gently brushes a finger over her chubby cheek. “She’s been an angel all morning. I think she knows this is a big day for her first race.”

“That’s my girl,” Lando grins. “Going to be a little racer before we know it.”

“Lando! There you are, mate.” The Aussie accent cuts through the paddock as Lando’s teammate bounds over. “I’ve been looking everywhere for … oh wow, is that her?”

Oscar’s eyes go wide as they land on Maia, taking in her tiny features with an almost comical look of awe. “She’s … she’s so small,” he says dumbly.

“What did you expect, she’s a baby,” Lando scoffs with a roll of his eyes, though his tone is good-natured. “Do you want to hold her?”

“Can I?” Oscar asks eagerly, bouncing on the balls of his feet like an overexcited puppy.

You laugh and carefully transfer Maia into Oscar’s waiting arms, guiding his hands to properly support her head. “Just watch the grabby hands. She’s got a pretty strong grip these days.”

Oscar nods rapidly, looking a bit intimidated as he gingerly cradles Maia against his chest. But the instant she lets out a little gurgling coo, his face splits into the biggest, most boyish grin you’ve ever seen.

“Hey there, little Norris,” he murmurs softly, instantly transfixed. “I’m your favorite Uncle Oscar.”

“Oi, who said you get to be the favorite uncle?” Another voice cuts in as Carlos saunters over, immediately zeroing in on the form in Oscar’s arms. “Is that her? Dios mio, she’s gorgeous!”

Without hesitation, Carlos plucks Maia right out of Oscar’s hold, completely ignoring the other driver’s sputtering. “Well hello there, princesa. Don’t worry, your Tío Carlos has got you.”

Maia blinks up at the new face peering down at her, tiny fists waving as if to grab at the Spaniard’s perfectly coiffed hair. Carlos simply grins and nuzzles his nose against her cheek, seemingly not caring one bit about any damage the squirming infant in his arms can do.

“Are you seeing this?” Lando mock-whispers to you, looping an arm around your waist and leaning in conspiratorially. “How are we supposed to get her back now?”

You stifle a giggle behind your hand, watching in amusement as Carlos and Oscar descend into bickering over who Maia’s favorite uncle will be — only to be interrupted as another figure appears beside them.

“What do we have here?” Daniel Ricciardo pipes up with a wide grin, hands shoved casually in his pockets. “Don’t tell me you two are fighting over babysitting duties already?”

“Something like that, mate,” Lando chuckles, reaching out to clap Daniel on the shoulder in greeting. “Up for putting your name in the hat too?”

“You know it!” Daniel agrees easily, quickly sidestepping Carlos to peer down at Maia with a wide smile. “Hey there, little monkey. Look at you all bright-eyed and curious.”

Amazingly, Maia seems entirely unperturbed by all the fussing going on around her. She simply blinks placidly up at each new face, soaking it all in like a tiny sponge. At one point, she even lets out a delighted squeal and flails her arms — prompting a fresh round of cooing from the three drivers clustered around her.

“Aw, I think she likes me best already,” Daniel declares with a wink, gently booping Maia’s button nose and making her giggle.

You shake your head in fond exasperation even as Lando tugs you tighter against his side, completely content to bask in the scene. That is, until Daniel’s next words nearly make you choke.

“So just how old is this little angel?” He asks idly, eyes still trained on Maia’s sweet face. “Four months now?”

“Three months and one week,” Lando answers automatically — only to tense a split second later, mouth falling open in realization. “Oh. Oh.”

The smug grin that slowly spreads across Daniel’s face is borderline devlish as it clicks into place for everyone exactly when Maia would have been … well, conceived. A heavy silence falls over the group, disturbed only by Maia’s happy gurgling as she remains oblivious to the sudden shift.

“Well, well, well,” Daniel drawls, dark eyes dancing with mirth as he bounces Maia playfully in his arms. “I think someone got a little overexcited celebrating his win last year, didn’t he?”

The only response is a strangled squawk from Lando as his face flushes bright red — no doubt remembering exactly how the two of you celebrated his first time on top of the Formula 1 podium. Meanwhile, Carlos and Oscar openly gape at the revelation, eyes nearly bugging out of their skulls.

“Don’t you dare,” Lando manages to choke out, stabbing an accusatory finger in Daniel’s direction. “We are not having this conversation here.”

“Why not?” Daniel shrugs blithely, gently jostling Maia to the crook of his elbow in a way that has her giggling. “It’s a perfectly natural thing, nothing to be ashamed about. That must’ve been one hell of a victory lap!”

The innuendo hangs heavily in the air, made all the more mortifying by the lecherous waggle of Daniel’s eyebrows. Lando, meanwhile, looks like he’s two seconds away from spontaneously combusting on the spot.

“I’m going to kill you,” he mutters through gritted teeth, dragging a hand over his rapidly reddening face.

Before Daniel can respond with another quip, however, you quickly step in — scooping Maia out of his arms with a stern glare. “That’s enough of that, I think.”

Daniel wisely snaps his mouth shut at the warning in your tone, offering a cheeky salute instead. “I’ll lay off … for now.”

With a wink and a last jaunty grin towards a still-sputtering Lando, he bids the group farewell and heads off to prepare for the race. Oscar, seemingly remembering you’re all congregating in a very public place, manages to pick his jaw up off the ground long enough to clear his throat awkwardly.

“Right, well … I need to go, you know, do driver things,” he mumbles before beating a hasty retreat, stumbling over his own feet in his haste.

Carlos, for his part, has the audacity to start outright cackling the second Oscar is out of earshot.

“You never fail to entertain,” he manages between wheezing gasps, wiping away mirthful tears from the corners of his eyes.

Lando flushes even deeper, if possible, and shoots you a helpless look. You simply raise an eyebrow, letting him squirm for a moment before taking pity.

“Alright, that’s enough out of you,” you chide Carlos lightly, shifting Maia higher on your hip. “Unless you want to be the one explaining the birds and the bees to her when the time comes?”

That seems to sober Carlos up somewhat, his laughter trailing off into a few more chuckles as he waves a hand dismissively. “You wound me, amiga. As if I would corrupt the ears of such an innocent little one.”

You give him a pointed look and he holds up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’m done.”

With a roguish wink, Carlos reaches out to gently pinch Maia’s cheek — earning a bright smile from the bubbly infant.

“You’ll learn soon enough that your papá can be un poco loco sometimes, princesa.”

“She really doesn’t need to learn that at all, thanks,” Lando grumbles, shooting his friend an exasperated glare.

You can’t help but shake your head fondly at the pair of them, even as Lando tucks you snugly against his side. For all their bickering, it’s abundantly clear just how enamored all the drivers are with Maia already.

The tender moment is interrupted, however, by a voice calling out for your boyfriend from across the paddock.

“Lando, we need you over in the garage. The parade will be starting any minute now,” a press officer arrives to herd him away.

Lando exhales a put-upon sigh, dropping a kiss to the top of Maia’s head before meeting your gaze apologetically. “Duty calls, I suppose. You’ll be okay here with my littlest fan club?”

You wave him off with a warm smile. “We’ll be fine. Just focus on having a good race, yeah? Maia and I will be cheering you on.”

The brilliant grin Lando flashes you is enough to make your heart flutter. “How could I do anything else with my two favorite cheerleaders?”

With one last lingering kiss, he tears himself away — offering a half-hearted wave to Carlos before disappearing through the paddock. An oddly serene quiet falls in his absence, the crowd breaking up to get settled before the race.

Carlos seems to sense your pensive mood, stepping up beside you to gently bump his shoulder against yours.

“You know, he really has changed since becoming a papá,” the older driver muses, casting a fond look down at Maia. “Far as I can tell, it’s done wonders for him.”

You smile softly, bouncing Maia gently as you watch Lando’s retreating back weave through the controlled chaos of the paddock. “He’s been … amazing. And he loves Maia more than life itself. My father complains that he has run out of things to threaten Lando over, which is the biggest compliment coming from him.”

Your daughter simply blinks at the two of you for a long moment before that sunny smile you’ve grown to adore stretches across her face, little fists waving happily in the air. You can’t help but chuckle at her antics, brushing a knuckle over her soft cheek.

As the bright Miami sun shines down and anticipation slowly builds in the background, you feel a surge of nearly overwhelming contentment. No matter what twists and turns life throws your way from here, you decide, you’ll always be able to find your way back to moments like this.

So much has changed in the course of a year, but you truly wouldn’t have it any other way.

Even if Lando still can’t quite look your father in the eye.

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lovebugism · 1 year ago

Note

istg that “just because you’re beautiful and a good kisser does not mean i forgive you.” “you think i’m beautiful?” is sooooo eddie coded.

i'm picturing a sorta enemies to lovers with eddie pulling yet another prank on reader (we all know this boy has the emotional maturity of a five year old when it comes to making a move on the girl he likes) but he really does hurt her feelings this time so he tries to make it up to her and they end up kissing.

from what you've written before i think you could put a great spin on this sorta scenario, if you feel like it <3

hope you like it! :D — you're eddie munson's biggest enemy. and, yes, you're also his soulmate. (enemies to lovers, secret relationship, 0.9k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

You storm into the bustling lunch room, having traded your pretty corseted blouse for a piece of oversized Corroded Coffin merch — definitely not by choice. “Do you have a death wish?” you ask when you reach the Hellfire table at the very back of the cafeteria, zeroed in on its leader at the head of it.

Eddie turns slowly, blinking up at you with innocent button eyes. His chews through the hamburger wadded in his cheek. “Potentially,” he answers, muffled before he swallows it down.

You huff, too easily frustrated. It isn’t any wonder why he likes to mess with you so much. “Where are my clothes?”

“The ones you left on my bedroom floor last night or…?”

“No, you idiot— The clothes you stole from the girl’s locker room. Which makes you a total perv, by the way.”

“Oh, that sexy little number?” he croons, turning in his seat to face you more. “It’s in my locker, actually.”

“Well, get it out,” you say with gritted teeth.

He thinks for a moment, pursing his lips to the side. “Hm… I don’t think I will.”

Your jaw tightens. “Why?”

“‘Cause it’s a little revealing, don’t you think?”

“Well, yeah, that’s kinda the point, Munson.”

He smacks his lips against his teeth, then scrunches the bridge of his nose. He wags a sarcastic, ringed finger at you. “See— Those aren’t the values a nice girl like you should have—”

“God, you’re infuriating,” you groan and stomp off again.

Eddie smiles to himself while he watches you go, cheek tilted lazily to his shoulder. The only thing he likes better than seeing you come (in more ways than one) is watching you leave.

He sighs a deep, contented sigh and turns back to the rest of the table. They’re all wide-eyed and silent, still musing on the sudden interaction with the disbelief that it had happened at all.

Eddie only grins, wider this time. “Ah… She’s obsessed with me.”

—————

By the end of the school day, your blouse hasn’t yet been returned to you. You’re still stuck in the stupid shirt Eddie had left for you — all black, too big, and obviously his. You know it belongs to him because you’ve worn it thousands of times while sleeping over at his place. It smells just like him, like weed and cologne and boy.

You’re heading towards the exits when a hand pulls you into an abandoned classroom around the corner — pale, ringed, and lanky. As if you needed any further confirmation it was Eddie Munson.

You stumble in, and he locks it behind you.

“Don’t you think you’ve bothered me enough today?” you squint.

“Oh, so you don’t want your shirt back?” he teases, waving the thing in his free hand. You reach for it, and he snatches it back, smirking softly down at you. “Uh-uh. What’s the magic word, sweetheart.”

“Give me my shirt back,” you answer in a monotone.

“Not even close, but I’ll give you a kiss for it.”

You sigh like it’s a chore for you and lean in to kiss his cheek. Your lips just barely graze his stubbly jaw. Eddie shrugs. “You missed, but I’m feeling nice today, so—”

You snatch it from him when he hands it to you. “You can’t keep doing this, Eds. We’re supposed to hate each other.”

“Well, one, we do hate each other. Obviously,” he scoffs and leans back on one of the desks. It shifts under his weight, and he stumbles. He decides to sit on it completely while you laugh. “And two, this was, like, a genius prank on my end. I made my arch nemesis walk around in my shirt all day— you’re not giving me enough credit for this, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, except I got called the freak’s girlfriend all day.”

“By who?”

“Who do you think?”

He ponders for a moment. “…Jason?”

You nod, all slow because it’s obvious. The only one who hates Eddie more than you do is Jason Carver. You wonder if he’s secretly in love with the town freak, too.

“Well, it’s about time he knows who you belong to,” the boy says with a laugh. “He’s only been trying to get with you for two years.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “I don’t belong to anyone— I’m not a toy.”

“Well, yeah— only when you wanna be,” Eddie teases, reaching out for you. His ringed fingers curl around your wrist to pull you closer. You sigh in annoyance but walk between his thighs anyway.

“You’re so annoying.”

Eddie grins, pink and boyish. “But you like me anyway. So who’s the real loser?”

“I thought we hated each other,” you quip with narrowed eyes.

“I was kidding— Just kiss me.”

You giggle quietly and lean in to peck his lips. He tastes like nicotine and spearmint, mouth soft like flower petals. You get lost in him too easily. One peck becomes two — then three — then a longer, languid, and more drawn-out thing.

You feel Eddie smile against you, knowing he’s won now that you’re melting for him. You pull away with a smack when you regain your senses.

“Just because you’re pretty and a good kisser, doesn’t mean I forgive you, by the way. You know that, right?”

“Mhmm,” he hums mindlessly, already leaning forward to kiss you again.

You pull softly back. “And that I’m totally getting you back for this?”

“Yep.” He pecks your lips once, with a lot more self-restraint than you’d had. “So… When are you coming over to get the clothes you left at my place last night?”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: bug turns one

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whyareyoulookingatmelikethat · 6 months ago

Note

twisted sprout x distractor reader x twisted cosmo?

bonus points if reader's a little overly cocky and gets Got (maybe we get like. kidnapped or something. whatever you think would fit best in the getting got category [: )

...no this isn't inspired by me doing stupid stuff while distracting and getting punished for it. why would you think that noo /j

[19]: In The End

Not much to say right now. Not in the best mood after something happened, but I still hope you enjoy.

You were known as the chaotic one of the group.

Reckless, mischievous, you name it.

Honestly, no one really knew why you were the distractor, but they just went along with it because who else did they have to distract?

So here you were, skipping your way along the dark halls, your mood completely cheerful despite the disturbing sounds of the monsters chasing you.

The smile on your face was as bright as it would be on a sunny day, strangely enough.

You weren't one to strategize either. The instant you found a speed candy on the floor? Eat it in an instant.

Chocolate bars? Sounds good! Bottles of pop? Sure thing! No saving whatsoever.

You were literally the embodiment of idiotic.

And you liked it.

What was wrong about being stupid? Everyone is, so might as well come to terms with it.

You giggled, rounding the corner and making a U-turn around the twisteds.

Some say you’re confusing. Some say you’re drunk. Some say you’re crazy. (Which you are, but focus!)

You had the most positive,(Yes, even more positive than Poppy) yet deranged look on your situation, is what people said.

You didn’t care if there were monsters chasing you. You didn’t care if you were possibly going to die soon. After all, if you're going to go out, might as well have a little fun while doing so!

No you weren’t suicidal, just…you tried to make the best of your situation.

Was this place causing you to go insane? Probably. Who wouldn’t, after seeing their friends die in front of them one by one?

Ah, you remember now. Vee being mauled by Twisted Pebble, Boxten’s bones being crushed by Twisted Goob’s grip, Astro being killed by…well, Twisted Astro. Or who you like to call, the leech.

Their deaths were so traumatizing, you say with absolutely no emotion whatsoever, like you’re being sarcastic, but you’re not.

What reason would you have to be?

You didn’t really hate anyone here, not Vee or Glisten with their pride, Rodger with his nosiness, or even Shrimpo with his yelling. He had good reason to be bitter.

You heard a screech behind you, a warning. With practiced grace, you twirled around the easily avoidable tendril sprouting up from the floor, not even staining your shoes with the black ichor.

As you skipped on, avoiding a swipe of a smaller black claw, you wondered how the twisteds were even dumber than you, to the point they would just run around in circles after you and not even cut through the middle. They also wouldn’t jump or step over obstacles, nor knock them aside. They reminded you of homing missiles, but worse.

They acted as if a bean bag was a brick wall, and it was funny, yet extremely confusing. It bugged you to the point of insanity.(Not really, you're still sane but you know)

So you entertained the thought that maybe they were all blind. Their eyes were blood-red, so it would make sense that their vision is messed up, but that doesn’t explain how the amalgamation that was once a sweet and loving dog could now see you across half the entire floor, but couldn’t see you over a colorful kids table, despite towering over you.

It didn’t make any sense. It was like every single obstacle ever was an invisible wall for them. And you thought you were dumb…

You hummed, breaking out of your train of thought. Your eyes widened as you came face to face with a wall, smacking straight into it.

You could feel a headache beginning to form as you fell backwards towards the ground, hitting your head on the painfully hard concrete. You could hear the slightest crack and you cried out, immediately curling yourself up and hands shooting up to your head.

It…felt warm. Weirdly warm, and sticky.

Oh.

You already knew what it was.

You pressed down hard on your scalp as the twisteds closed in on you. You’d go out quick, at least.

The only thing you saw before it was all gone was two blurry faces staring down at you, hissing and groaning filling the air.

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i-smoke-chapstick · 9 months ago

Text

‘SAILOR SONG,

-THEPENGUIN!SOFIA FALCONE X READER-

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; You run into Sofia at Berto’s funeral. You’re the only one who can calm her down.

⋆ tags/warnings. sofia falcone x female reader. ANGST AND COMFORT!! Might make this a series if anyone likes it enough <3 she’s my literal BABY im so in love with her it makes me want to kms! she deserves SO much better i just wanna give her a hug (and a kiss). slight homophobia mentions, past relationships (but unclear), THE HANGMAN!!!!! Based on 1x2, bertos funeral ! she is my girlfailure wife and i need her

♫ “Begging, baby, would you please? / Do the things you said you'd do to me. / And when we're getting dirty, I forget all that is wrong / I sleep so I can see you 'cause I hate to wait so long.” Sailor Song by Gigi Perez

High tides. That’s what Gotham is, after the haunted return of the Batman. At least, that’s all you see around you now. Theres blood in the water, and the sharks have all come to hunt.

You think it’s all bullshit. The bat, the Riddler, this fucking funeral. You hardly knew the man, and you know it’s a waste of time. Everyone dressed in black here is only cutting their losses. It’s all out of fear. Berto was unabashedly himself. And that was weak. He tried too hard to be his father.

You scan the funeral, which might as well be a party for some of these fuckers, and hold your breath. Okay, maybe you’re more upset than you’d like to admit. Nihilism appeases the soul where optimism does not. You’d only had very few conversations with him, but he was…nice, to some extent.

It’s a day of mourning. And that’s what you do. Memories come to you in unsafe and ungrateful waves, alerting you of every interaction you’d ever had with the man of the night.

“Hey, so,” He scratched the side of his head with his index finger. “Wha- What’s up with you and my sister?” A bitter smile on his face, nose scrunched in faux curiosity. You’d known better. You grew up your entire life in Gotham, and you had known a thinly veiled threat when you’d heard it.

“Sofia?” You’d asked, lighting a cigarette. The sunset flooded through Italy’s streets. It wasn’t your first summer here. You took a long drag of smoke, thinking of how to phrase your answer. The Falcones weren’t stupid, none of them were, not really. “Nothing.” You settled on, dabbling it out in the ash tray. “Why?”

You’d expected some bullshit to fly from his mouth. The family…That you were an outsider. That whatever the two of you had going on was distasteful. A woman and a woman. Not a good look in the papers. Weak willed woman frolicking together in Gotham’s underground. You expected him to insult you, and her. What would their father think?

But Alberto didn’t say anything like that.

“If you hurt her,” He began, and you felt yourself visibly recoil. “I’ll have to, you know,” He motioned with his hands, forming a gun with his forefinger against his temple, and a pew sound. “Pop your top.”

Returning to yourself, you find it in yourself to be greatful. For Alberto, not ratting the two of you out. Whatever you two had…was more than the both of you ever managed to let on. Small touches here and there, kisses when you played house. Laughing underneath streetlamps, painting her nails. And then she got locked up in Arkham. Your best…friend.

And now she’s finally released. Idiots with poster boards outside begging for her return to the loony bin. She’s somewhere in this house, on the same floor as you.

You mindlessly sip on your glass. Alchohol is your real friend tonight. The undergrounds in shambles, the entire city is. What’s stopping you from leaving? You don’t know. Not until you see her.

She trails in the room, and the first thing you hear are overwhelming whispers. You don’t pay attention to them, how could you? Her hair tied up messily, sticky bangs and beads of sweat on her forehead. Her makeup is neat, but just barely smudged.

She’s bug eyed as she enters, chest heaving in…anger? fear? She pays much more attention to the whispers than you do, you realize.

“She’s crazy,” You hear from behind you. Faces hide behind there glasses and hands, leaning down and gossiping amongst themselves. It makes you sick. She makes you sick. Even more so, as she seems to lose herself. It starts with a small bite, digging at the finger food, before she picks up heaps of it in her palms. Over and over and over again…

“That’s enough,” You whisper, sternly, grabbing her forearm. Her mouth almost drops open with the food, eyes widening even more. She stops chewing, and for a moment, it seems everything and everyone is finally scilenced.

She doesn’t say a word in her shock, her arm falling down. She lets you guide her out the room, and the both of you ignore the comments from passerbys.

When you finally reach an empty room, you close the door. Her blood runs cold, and she’s perpelled to the edge of the room, like a cornered and vulnerable prey animal.

“What are you doing here?” Sofia drawls, clearing her throat. Her cheeks are tinged pink from embarassment, and her nose twitches in frustration.

“I knew him too.”

“No, you didn’t.” She remarks, firm in her stance. Her jaw is clenched tight, and you sigh. You make your way over to a couch, sitting down lazily. It doesn’t feel how it used to.

“Yeah, I didn’t. But I got an invitation.”

She ignores you. Straight to the point.

“You’ve heard. What they are saying about me, out there.”

“Hard not too.”

She scoffs, letting out a hmph noise. She turns away from you, blinking.

“Well. Do you believe it?” She tests, arms crossed. You feel your eyebrows scrunch, and you give her a once over. You want to scream at her, that she isn’t crazy. That whatever she’s done isn’t her fault, not completely. But you can’t claw the words out- not after not seeing her in years.

“You do, don’t you?” She continues. She stops pacing the room to take a seat parallel to you. You bite your tongue.

A beat of silence, and something in her dark eyes takes it as your final answer. Theres something deeper, darker swirling in them you can’t quite place. She’s not the same girl you knew as a child.

“No,” You whisper, finally, and watch her perk up. “You’re not crazy.”

She stays silent as she looks at you disbelievingly. Like you’re saying it simply to appease her. You find it in yourself to let the tension melt away, leaning back into the cushions.

“You don’t need help.” You affirm, and her expression is unreadable. “You aren’t broken. Or whatever those fuckhead doctors told you in Arkham. You’re just…” You trail off, needing to word this right. “You’re just your fathers daughter.”

You expect her to ask ‘what thats supposed to mean?’ but she doesn’t. No…she looks too vulnerable in this light to fight back against you. Again, silence sounds, and you wonder if you’ve made a mistake.

It’s only when she speaks, voice trembling, do you see her resolve break.

“Why didn’t you visit me?” It’s quiet, almost a whimper, and her voice breaks. “In Arkham?”

There it is. The question you’d been dreading, mostly because you didn’t know the answer yourself.

Her eyebrows are pulled together, nails clenched into her own skin. You go to tear them from her palms, opening them up to find the marks. She doesn’t say a word. She makes no move to push you away. She’s too tired. She’s greiving, her father, her mother, her brother, her sanity.

You lean down, and press a gentle kiss to her nails. A strangled sound is ripped from her at the action, and you notice how her eyes turn glossy. You decide to ignore the question for now, watching tears finally slip from her eyes. She’d been holding them in for what felt like forever. But not with you, she finds, she could never hide anything from you.

You pull her in, embracing her for all its worth. She immeadiatley falls into you, open mouthed sobs against your shoulder. You hug her tight, and it feels blissful. After so long of only seeing her on TV reports and pictures, touching her, feeling her, is heavenly. Just like it used to be.

She still smells the same. Her makeup runs as she cries into your shoulder, and you gently hush her. You pet her head and hair, cradling her like she’s fragile glass about to break. She’s yours. You’re hers. You always have been.

Rocking her back in forth, you place a kiss on her forehead. When she leans into you, you place more. Soft little pecks across her skin, to her head, wrist. You kiss all her tears away as they fall. Sweet and salty, wetting your lips. You feel her try to catch her breath.

She pulls away from you, hair messy. Her lips are parted, and her pupils blown, and theres a silent promise in the air between the two of you. I’m with you. Im on your side. I am the woman who wants you to win.

Her hand trails to your cheek, and she looks at you worshipfully. Her eyes flit to your lips, as if asking, begging for just one.

You nod. You could never deny her anything. She leans in, tentiavley, before connecting your lips. Memories flash through your head. She tastes the same, acacia honey and cigarette smoke. Besides yourself, you deepen the kiss, and she responds tenfold.

Her hands thread through your hair with a gentle tug, as if there is a feral need buried underneath her skin, to possess you. Remind herself you are here, and you are hers, not an illusion. Not a nightmare. She would kill for you.

You have to almost fight her to part for air, pulling away with heavy breaths. She doesn’t let you get far, resting her forehead against yours.

For better or for worse, she has stuck her claws in you. You realize she will not let you go. Not tonight. Not tommorrow. Not ever.

Breath intermingling, her body heat radiating against yours, you can’t find it in yourself to care.

You stay like that, unanswered questions still plaguing the silence. You’ll answer them one day. For now, you choose only to lose yourselves in one another.

You regret not telling Alberto the truth before he died. She’s not nothing to you. She’s everything.

#x reader #sofia falcone #sofia falcone x reader #the penguin #penguin #oswald cobblepot #sofia falcone the penguin #dc comics #batman #batman rogues #angst #fluff #angst with a happy ending #comfort #the penguin 2024 #wlw yearning

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strangerstilinski · 10 months ago

Note

can you pretty please do [intimidation] with eddie

🥺👉👈

[INTIMIDATION] sender, in an effort to frighten the receiver by invading their personal space, sits in their lap to try and inspire discomfort or fear in them.

cw: alcohol consumption, fem!reader, sort of enemies -> lovers (but actually idiots -> lovers), 2.4k

dividers by @strangergraphics

You're blocking the doorway into the Harrington kitchen, shoulder leaned against the wood panelling where you have a good view into the living room. Your unimpressed glare is drawn from the figure currently hogging the sofa when someone bumps into you just as you're bringing the plastic cup in your hand to your lips.

"Jesus, fucking watch it-" The outrage in your tone fades quick when you see who's run into you.

"Sorry." Jonathan grimaces as he watches you wipe a bit of juice and vodka from your chin.

"No, it's fine," You sigh and turn on your heel, following Jonathan into the kitchen as he begins to grab things to make himself a drink, though it appears to be far more lemon-lime soda and grenadine than anything else. "Sorry, I just.. I dunno, sorry." You shrug before gulping down another mouthful of your own admittedly strong drink. You're kind of hoping that once your buzz kicks in you'll feel just a little less like there's a storm cloud floating right above your head.

"What is with you, tonight?" Jonathan asks with an overly cautious smile, "I haven't seen Munson bug you even once, so it's gotta be somethin' else-"

"Nothing," You huff, a little defensive at just the mention of the other boy, "I'm fine."

"Oh yeah, totally," Jonathan chuckles and raises his newly acquired drink in a salute, "You're like a ray of sunshine tonight."

It's annoying as hell, but he's right. You're fuming and Eddie has yet to even speak to you. He's been avoiding you like the plague from the moment you walked through the door, as if Eddie could somehow sense that you were already in a mood, and he didn't feel like getting told off for being the reason that you finally snapped.

Because normally, Eddie would've found at least seven ways he could irritate you by now. He'd have finished the last of the juice he saw you eyeing for your next mixed drink and laughed maniacally when you pouted about it. He'd have pestered you about whether you might want to join in on another campaign, all while making a handful of little comments about just how easy it'll be for him to decimate your character when you do. He'd have watched you shiver while you passed a joint back and forth by the pool, and then draped his stupid jacket around your shoulders just so he could roll his eyes and give you shit about not dressing warmly enough.

Eddie was infuriating — And the worst part was that he knew it. The asshole thrived on pushing buttons and testing people's limits, but tonight evidently he'd been able to tell that you were already toeing dangerously close to yours and had steered clear altogether.

You peer back out into the living room now, narrowed eyes zeroing back in on the figure sprawled across the entire length of the loveseat, socked feet kicked up on the opposite cushion where someone else could be sitting if he weren't such a selfish prick.

"God, what an asshole." You grumble, downing the last of your drink and grabbing the nearest bottle to begin mixing another. "I mean, look at him, seriously. Does he have to take up the whole couch?"

Jonathan's gaze follows the path your own had taken moments before, and he snorts in amusement, "Eddie."

It's not a question, but you answer him as if it had been.

"Yes, Eddie." Another quick glance up into the living room has your eyes locking with the man in question just as his name falls from your lips.

Eddie's eyes go wide, his cheeks dimpling with his sudden grin. He jabs his index finger into his chest, lips moving silently around the words, "Who? Me?"

"Uh-huh.. Why don't you go do something about it?" Jonathan teases.

Eddie's attention is pulled away when Gareth says something from his spot in an armchair. Whatever he says it gets Eddie riled up and he's immediately talking animatedly, hands gesturing wildly as he speaks.

"Maybe I will." You're already moving with purpose, halfway out of the kitchen when you hear your friend shout after you.

"I was joking!"

"Well I'm not!" You call back over your shoulder.

It's darker as you step into the living room, overhead lights off in favor of utilizing the warmer glow from the the lamp tucked away in the corner. You have to step over Eddie's discarded shoes at the foot of the sofa, and the boy very nearly knocks your drink out of your hand when you step in front of him, too distracted by his own tirade to have seen your approach.

But his head snaps up toward you as your thigh brushes his arm. Whatever he's been saying, the words cut off abruptly at the realization of who it is standing beside him.

"Well hey there, princess." He shoots you a toothy grin — You assume it's meant to be charming, but it only irritates you further. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?"

You ignore Eddie in favor of casting a small smile of apology toward Gareth, "Sorry to interrupt."

"Nah, no worrie-"

"No, no! You didn't interrupt. We were done." Eddie cuts his friend off, "Gareth was just telling me he was gonna go take a piss, actually."

Gareth splutters for a moment, but when his eyes shift from you to Eddie he's suddenly rising from his chair. You watch Gareth shake his head as he steps around you before he stalks off without a word.

"What was that about?" You can't help but ask in curiosity.

"Beats me. Really had to piss, I guess." Eddie says quickly, sitting up a little straighter against the arm of the couch. He throws an arm out to gesture to Gareth's recently vacated chair, "Did you wanna-"

Rather than taking advantage of the empty seat, you plop yourself across Eddie's thighs unceremoniously, feeling oddly satisfied by the huff of surprise that escapes him when your weight is suddenly in his lap.

The way the warmth of his body seeps into your own is near immediate, even through two layers of denim. Your arm presses into his chest as you lean back into the cushion of the sofa, trying and failing to remain unaffected by his proximity. He smells infuriatingly good this close, clean and masculine with just a lingering hint of the weed he'd smoked earlier in the night. It makes your stomach flutter wildly, makes your head swim for half a second before you're lifting your cup to your mouth in an effort to compose yourself.

Eddie huffs softly and his breath fans out over your exposed shoulder, warm and smelling faintly of cheap beer and menthols. Goosebumps prickle along the length of your arm, hairs standing on end suddenly. You wish you could convince yourself that your body's reaction were one of repulsion, but deep down you know that its something far, far worse than that.

"You.. You're just gonna.. sit.. here?" Eddie asks, voice a little wobbly, unsure.

His knuckles brush your thigh, likely an accident, but one sidelong glare has his hand retreating to the relative safety of the couch cushion in a flash.

"Yep."

You can see outside to the patio from your position, and you focus your attention to the group sitting with their feet in the pool. The sheer amount of effort it takes to keep your eyes trained there, rather than allowing them to drift to where Eddie's hand twitches near your knee-

"Do- Did you want me to move my legs? Do you want-" He shifts underneath you like he's ready to pull his feet from the cushion at the other end, but you remain resolutely in place.

"Nope, I'm good."

You have absolutely no plans of moving any time soon. You'd remain seated right here in Eddie's lap until his bladder was ready to burst, until your weight made his legs fall asleep and tingle from lack of blood flow, until he was ready to grab you by your hips and force you into another seat.

He'd learn his lesson. The inconsiderate couch-hogging asshole.

"O..kay." Eddie says slowly, wiping his palm on the side of his own denim-clad hip, as if his hands might've gotten a little sweaty.

Were you making him warm? Good.

"So.." Eddie pauses. You catch a glimpse of his face scrunching in thought at the corners of your vision before he continues, "Any big plans for the weekend?"

With how close you're sat, Eddie is speaking almost directly into your ear. There's no need for him to raise his voice to be heard, and you find that the low rumble of it is nice, soothing almost. It curls around your ears and sends something warm shooting down your spine.

"Killing boys." You return dryly, eyes straining now in an effort to remain focussed on what's going on in the backyard.

Eddie snorts, body jolting underneath you with his amusement — And his almost-laughter absolutely does not make your chest flush with pride. You couldn't care less whether or not Eddie Munson finds you funny. As if.

"Oh, so nothing out of the ordinary for you then."

Eddie chuckles and the tip of his thumb finds its way to the place where your thigh presses into his. You can't tell if it's accidental or on purpose, but the gentle press of his finger maybe kind of makes your stomach flip pleasantly, so you allow it. Whatever.

You hum in agreement, "Yeah, well. There's almost always some boy who deserves it."

"I don't doubt it," Eddie murmurs with a wide grin, his head tipped sideways over the back of the couch, cheek nearly brushing your shoulder now, "Anyone I know currently at the top of your list, madame assassin?"

"There is this one asshole." You pause to take a sip of your drink, fighting off a grimace at the awful liquor to juice ratio. "He's loud. And irritating. Just loves getting on my last nerve-"

"Long hair?"

The interruption has your eyes rolling, "Yep. Walks around looking like some Van Halen wannabe."

"Oh, he sounds cool."

You can practically hear the smirk in his voice now.

"Well he's not." You return blankly. "He's always trying to get a rise outta me, acting like a total prick-"

"Hold on, hold on-" Eddie cuts you off again, "Now I'm not so sure we're on the same page. Thought I knew who you were talkin' about, but-"

"Oh, you know him." You grumble, sinking farther into the plush cushion on the back of the couch with your drink clutched to your chest. "You know him well, trust me."

Eddie shifts beneath you, angling both himself and you until he's taking up more of your line of sight than the patio doors. His big brown eyes bore into you until you crack and flick your gaze toward him.

"Here's the thing.." Eddie starts, the pad of his thumb stroking the seam on the outside of your knee. "Maybe this guy's just pushing your buttons because he likes when all of your attention is on him-"

The arm he has thrown over the back of the couch by your shoulder moves then, brushing your hair back from your temple only to backtrack and trail the pads of his fingers featherlight over the space between your brows.

"-Maybe.. Shit, I dunno, maybe he likes the way your eyebrows come together when you're angry-"

Your heart is beating so loud you can hear the blood pumping in your ears. The urge to fidget under his attention is strong, but you sit at still as possible in fear of breaking the spell. You have to strain to hear Eddie's next words over the dull whoosh of your heartbeat echoing in your skull.

"Maybe he thinks you look kinda devastatingly beautiful-"

"You-" And, fuck. Did your voice just crack? "You're trying to tell me you think this guy is, what? Being a dick because he likes me? Pulling my pigtails on the playground and shit?"

Eddie's grin is less cocky than you've ever seen it. His lips twitch at one side of his mouth. He almost looks nervous.

You take a deep breath as his fingers skim over your jaw on their way back toward your hair, where he pinches a small lock between two fingers and tugs twice, oh-so gentle.

"What if he was?" Eddie asks softly, "Being a dick because he likes you, I mean."

"I'd tell you he's an idiot." You manage, plastic cup crinkling under the increased pressure of your hand.

Eddie winces, but nods and averts his gaze. His arm falls to the back to the sofa again, close enough for you to feel the warmth of it beside your shoulder.

"But.." You have to swallow down a smile when Eddie's wide eyes snap right back to yours. "Maybe this idiot's attraction isn't totally one-sided. So, maybe he should stop being an asshole and try making a move."

Eddie blinks. Once, then twice. He squares his shoulders and leans in like he might kiss you, but then he backs off again and searches your eyes as if he's terrified he might be reading the entire situation wrong.

"Eddie." You whisper sharply, "The idiot is you, asshole."

"Oh, Jesus Christ, thank god."

And then his fingers are curled gently around the back of your neck. His hand is fully grasping your opposite thigh as he tries to drag you impossibly closer. His plush lips are pressing softly into your own, the taste of beer mixing with vodka and citrus.

It's a quick kiss, chaste. Your mouths only remain glued together for all of three seconds before he's leaning back just enough to watch you blink at him from beneath heavy lashes. You can't imagine how stupidly docile you look; brows pushed up your forehead, chest nearly heaving beneath your shirt, jaw slack, lips parted and waiting for more. It's pathetic how he's managed to turn you into this with just one G-Rated kiss.

The hand on the back of your neck moves to your face, fingertips tracing the smooth line of your brow before trailing back down to cup your cheek.

"Yeah.. Yeah, this is nice too." Eddie murmurs, "You're awful pretty when you're mad, but this.. This right here is somethin' else."

"You're so annoying." It comes out airy, absolutely no bite to your words.

"Oh, that's not changing, sweetheart. Matter of fact, I think it's a part of our spark. Gotta keep the fire burning, right? I'll keep annoying you, you'll keep getting angry-"

"Would you just shut up and kiss me again?"

Eddie grins, already leaning in, "Sure thing."

#ah yes a little lap sitting is VERY itimidating 🙂↕️ uhuh yeah totally #this one was very fun to write and i absolutely got carried away but here we are #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson enemies to lovers #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson idiots to lovers #*

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rainychaoloveshack · 1 year ago

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Suggestive Boom!Sonic one shot cause hes so flirty and so silly? ty!!!

ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ⋆ ﾟ . 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐱𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐠.

sonic likes relaxing with you. alone.

content (16+). boom!sonic x gn!reader, suggestive!!!, kinda needy sonic, teasing-like relationship, stupid idiot definitely loves flirting with you, bunch of kisses… and licks.

☂︎ wc. around 900 ☂︎ a/n. i was feelin a bit… devilish this one 😈 (the post write clarity hit hard.) HAHAHA i hope i did your request justice anon! first time writing smth like this… i tried to keep it at least 16+ (as per my comfortability with writing spice), but mightve leaned more into rated M, my fault ^^’

likes, reblogs, and especially comments are extremely appreciated!!!

“Hey, you know everyone already left, right?” That familiar blue blur the village knows and loves comes through the doorway, crossing his arms and leaning against the sofa as he looks you up and down, obviously skeptical about your continued presence in the hut. “What’cha still doing here? I thought Sticks was really urging you to go.”

You shrug your shoulders, letting a yawn slip out as you wave him off, shutting your eyes as the hammock swings gently at your movement. A nice, sundown nap is in order.

“You didn’t feel like going with them?” You don’t bother opening your eyes, but give him a curt nod as you feel his presence beside you, hearing the tapping of his foot against the hard, wooden floor. “Well, why don’t you just come with me then? I’m about to run a couple laps to and back from the beach.”

Booooringgg. You click your tongue in disapproval, but open up an eye to peek at him, curious about the fact that he invited you to hang out with him in the first place. Usually he’d just bug Tails about things like that, or challenge Knuckles to a couple rounds of golf. Well, maybe you’re just a last resort, considering the fact that you’re the only one here…

“That doesn’t interest you either, huh?” Sonic tilts his head, his ear twitching at your silent agreement with a nod. Words aren’t even necessary. No point in wasting your breath on them.

He pouts, staring at you silently putting his gloved hands right on his hips, cocking his head to the other side as his foot keeps on tapping on the floor. After a few beats of silence, he nudges you in an annoying manner, causing you to let a small curse slip between your lips as you gaze up at him.

“Alright, scoot over.”

What?

Sonic grins as he shakes the hammock, forcing a yelp through your lungs as he urges you to make way for him, climbing inside the hammock to snuggle against you before you can even utter a refusal. Idiot.

He chuckles, a cheeky, clearly amused grin on his face as he presses his cheek against yours, a soft purr rumbling from within his chest as his playful demeanor falters for a moment, enjoying the warmth emitting from your body. If you weren't so bugged out with him currently, you would’ve teased him for his animalistic behavior, but the thought slipped out of your mind the second it entered once you feel another purr ring from him. Lucky bastard.

You scowl, nudging him away from you. You were having a nice, relaxing time, and then all of a sudden he wants to butt in like this?

“Oh, what?” Sonic grins at you, relishing in your embarrassed expression. “You’re acting like you don’t like it. I know you do.” Your scowl doesn’t falter with his statement. And what brings him to that assumption?

“Cause if you didn’t, you could’ve pushed me outta here already.” Sonic murmurs, that stupid sly grin popping back on his face as he straddles over your figure, before you can utter a protest to his statement, and he leans down to kiss your neck, letting his tongue lap up the spot briefly, before leaning more towards the right to suck gently, nipping at it with his teeth.

Oh.

You flinch at the wet feeling plastered on your neck, but soon settle down, stifling back a groan as he draws his tongue across your jawline, leaning so close to your face that your lips briefly touch against each other.

“You didn't need to go with the others anyway.” He says, a small growl behind his words. “It’s more fun with me, yeah?” Sonic groans at his own impatience, leaning in as soon as he finishes his sentence, running his tongue against the tip of your fang with a small growl following afterward, pleased at your reaction to his advance once you reach your hand over to hold his, intertwining your fingers with his as he pins it down to the hammock.

Suddenly, Sonic angrily nips at your bottom lip, almost begging for your tongue to make contact with his, and you comply with his begging as he whines softly in the kiss, clearly happy with your decision, though he’ll never say it out loud. His ego’s much too big for something like that, but displaying his affections for you in a hut where anyone from the group could walk in is just fine. Hmm.

The kiss is cut short as Sonic breaks away, panting softly above you and chuckling softly. “Sorry. I dunno what’s up with me today…” Maybe some self-evaluation would do him some good.

… Who’re you kidding? You know you don’t care.

Sonic’s soft breathing mixes with yours, along with his soft kisses against your cheek, shifting slightly on top of you as his leg straddles your body, cuddling and bringing you closer.

What a loser.

You groan in a fake annoyed tone, muttering curses towards him as he laughs beside you, yet you snuggle closer to his chest and those curses turn into gentle kisses leading up his chest, tugging away his brown bandana with your teeth, and you relish in the sound of Sonic’s laughs cut short, and his breath hitching in his throat, his hand resting itself on your hips before making its way up your own torso,

Eh. This isn’t so bad. You should stay back and just relax in Sonic’s Hut more often. Alone.

Yeah…

(i was actually gonna post this last night but tumblr was being bad >:[ its alright lol)

#thank you for your request!#not beta read #sonic x reader #sonic #sonic fluff #sonic the hedgehog x reader #sonic boom x reader #sonic boom

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thanosscross · 6 months ago

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Thief of your money, and thief of your heart - Choi Su-Bong/Thanos x reader + Twin brother! Nam-Gyu part 1

Summary: Growing up with Nam-Gyu as an idiot twin and his idiot best friend was difficult, especially knowing you had feelings for your brother's best friend, until they ended up pulling you into the crypto scam somehow resulting in you leaving them behind, not knowing in a few short weeks you'd be trapped with them playing for money and your life

Warnings: None really other than the fight scene with player 333 which you take part in

Growing up with an older twin brother had to be your punishment from a past life, both him and his obnoxious friends were your personal hell, because of your family's financial situation, whenever you both turned twenty they helped you get an apartment together, now even though you hated your older brother, Nam Gyu, with a passion, you occasionally felt bad for him, so whenever you got enough money to finally get your own place, you stayed. Your biggest mistake? Leaving your wallet out for them to access one night, your brother sending you thousands of wons in debt.

You left not too long after that, choosing to live with your friend rather than your brother, at that point you hated even having the same last name as him. After you left it took two days before Thanos was blowing your phone up, asking if you were okay, calling his best friend an idiot, you never answered though, feeling as if Thanos was partially at fault for your brothers actions, he was the one who showed Nam-gyu that stupid dalmatian crypto site.

You never took yourself as the person to play games for money, but whenever the man told you it'd be enough to cover your debts and more, you were compelled, knowing this might be a sign from the universe to start trying again. As you woke up in the room you were sadly mistaken, seeing the familiar stupid faces of your brother and friend, of course they'd be here too, they were idiots. As you slowly climbed down the bunk beds you looked around at how many people were actually here, seeing numbers as high as 456. Thanos cheered seeing his best friend, Nam-Gyu, rushing over he hugged his friend, confident that they'd win now.

As they followed through the picture taking process, Nam-Gyu couldn't help but notice the familiar h/c and style of his sister, his heart dropping as he pointing you out to Thanos and he confirmed. Walking onto the field you looked around, determined to beat those assholes so you can have some sort of revenge against them. Thanos walked through, his and Nam-Gyu's eyes quickly falling onto your frame trying to hide behind somebody, ignoring the crazy ass man shouting something about dying, more concerned with why you had disappeared. You were quick to take notice of the two men advancing on you, forcing you to dive deeper into the crowd hoping to lose them, as the game began you were a little more confident you had lost them until you heard gunshots and a familiar voice calling 'tag' in a taunting tone. "Y/n" You heard a harsh tone snap from behind you as the doll turned it's head to face everybody calling red light "What're you doing here? It's not fucking safe" Your twin brother's voice seethed as you clenched your already formed fists, as soon as greenlight was called you were quick to take off, running away from your brother not wanting to be bothered by him. For a moment you felt like a kid again playing tag, Running away from Nam-Gyu and Su-Bong as they both tried to catch you, trying to torture you with some weird bug or gross thing they found, As you sprinted forward, Nam-gyu was quick behind you, Thanos, high off his high skipped down the field as he leaped into the air, tapping his heels in the air before freezing again whenever redlight was closed.

This time you were frozen behind your brother, your hand holding the back of his jacket, under false impressions that you were scared, Nam-gyu leaned more into your touch, resulting in you pulling him onto the sand in anger, going to rush past him but you stopped to look at him "Leave me alone. And tell him to leave me alone, I want nothing to do with either of you" You snapped before taking off, using your speed to leap over the line right as red light was called, you winced as you felt your palms and chin come in contact with the ground. Laying there for a moment to process exactly where the pain you felt was you noticed a looming shadow behind you "Nam-Gyu" You growled turning around ready to kick your brother in the shin before you stopped, his best friend stood a few feet in front of you, offering you a hand. "What to do you want" You asked harshly, trying to stay angry at Su-Bong while he was in front of you was hard, growing up with him you saw exactly what he went through, seeing his confused sad face you started to feel guilty for ignoring him, he wasn't the one you stole your wallet, he just showed your brother the stupid youtube channel and website.

"Senorita, Let Thanos the great help you" He smirked, crossing his arms after you pulled yourself to your feet, yea nevermind, you hated him again after that line. You rolled your eyes as you turned away "I do not ever want your help again" You replied flipping him off as you watched the other players rush to the end, as the time got closer to 00:00 you were getting nervous, watching your brother still struggling to get across the field, with every person that got shot running next to him the more time he'd take before he started running again, as soon as you glanced and saw a minute left you huffed walking past the purple haired high man that was desperately trying to get you to respond to his flirting. Rushing back onto the field you saw your brother's glare that was directed towards you, you didn't care though, as much as you hated him sometimes, you still cared about him..sometimes. Taking his hand in yours you gave him a reassuring squeeze "As soon as it's greenlight?" You asked giving him a nervous glance, Nam-Gyu wanted to drop to his knees and just get eliminated now, but as you came rushing back grabbing his hand he knew he had to get you back to the safety of the end of the field, he made a promise whenever you both moved out to make sure you were taken care of, and while he might've fucked up big time, he still intended on keeping that promise.

Whenever the speakers announced greenlight you pulled your brother's hand in yours, making sure he kept up with you as you ran, glancing at the timer you felt yourself start to panic, you were still on redlight and you only had ten seconds left with about 30 feet of field to clear still. Noticing your panicked state Thanos started to think, trying to get you both to run faster than you ever had, that's whenever it dawned on him, as the doll called greenlight Su-bong was quick to jump up to the front of the crowd, standing on the edge of the line "Guys!! Wasps!" He shouted loudly, watching as you let go of your brothers hand taking off, Nam-gyu quick behind you as he lifted you up over his shoulder as he ran past, slamming into his friend as he crossed the line with you into safety.

As you approached the doors to leave, your brother's hand was quick to catch your wrist "Y/n?.." He whispered, you just offered him a empathetic smile before walking off shaking your head, just because you helped him doesn't mean you forgave him or wanted to speak to you. Walking into the giant rooms the two men were still hot on your trail, refusing to leave your side, as you sat down you watched as Su-Bong demanded for your brother to get your guys' dinner, once you were alone he turned to you "Y/n..I've been trying to apologize for weeks now" He frowned resting a hand on your shoulder, you huffed fighting your wants, you were good at hiding it, especially with the two idiots being the people you were hiding it from, but you had a crush on Su-Bong, you had since you were teenagers and he'd try rapping cheesy lines to you through your bedroom door after you'd slam it in his face. Throughout the years of you playing hard to get, Su-Bong never gave up, he'd fuck other chicks, but that's all he'd call them 'chicks' or 'thanos' bitches' if they were overly obsessed with him, you were always 'Senorita' 'Baby' or 'my muse'. Regardless you shoved his hand off glaring at him "I'd never be in debt if it weren't for you" You snapped, shoving him back a bit, he just gave you an offended look "I didn't do anything! Your brother did! and that kid!" He shouted pointing over to a player that was trying to stay hidden on his bed, your head immediately snapped over glaring at him. Su-Bong knew he couldn't stop what was coming next as you stormed past him, Nam-Gyu caught your gaze as you stormed past him, you were determined, this guy was the entire reason you were here, that your brother was here, that Su-Bong was here.

"Hey! Cryptobitch!" You shouted as you stormed over, watching as the boy tried to move away, you were quick to cut him off, stopping him as he got to the floor, as he tried to turn the opposite direction you noticed Su-Bong stopping him walking him backwards towards you "The lady was talking to you" He snapped, Nam-Gyu quick to rush over so he could turn player 333 around to face you "yea man, it's rude to ignore a lady like that" he added on, Su-Bong quickly smacking the back of the players head "Don't you have any manners?" He snapped, you glared at him, balling up your fists before punching him clear across the jaw "That's for taking all of my money!" You shouted before throwing another punch "That's for encouraging those two idiots to lose their money to your stupid shit!" Another punch "This is for making me hate my fucking brother!" You screamed standing up, delivering a swift kid to his side before huffing "And that's for making me hate the person I loved for years!" As you panted you noticed another player approaching "Children! Let's not fight!" 001 Shouted, watching as Su-Bong and Nam-Gyu stopped their abuse on the player that scammed them out of their money for a moment "I am not! A fucking child!" You yelled marching over, ready to fight him as well before he quickly putting you in a bear hug, grabbing your wrist and shoving you away as he knocked your brother down, grabbing Su-Bong by the throat.

By the time you recovered from your fall the boys were standing up, rubbing different parts of their bodies in pain from player 001 kicking their asses. As you sat you bed glaring at 333 Su-bong made his way over to you, grabbing your jaw gently to look for any bruises or cuts "Are you okay?" He asked looking around for your brother "I'm fine, are you?" You asked, you'd be lying if you said you weren't charmed by him having your back earlier, but you wouldn't admit that, not yet, you didn't want either of them thinking you forgave them just yet, you wanted them to realize how badly they fucked up first.

You spent the last few hours before lights out using the boys' jackets to clean up any busted lips or cuts they may have gotten during the fight, never noticing the way Su-Bong looked at you the entire time, or the way he stayed up half of the night in shifts with Nam-Gyu to make sure nobody tried to fuck with you while you slept.

Do we like? I'm gonna try and make it to where each part is a different game, so like next will be Six legs and so on, anyways! I'm always excited to hear from you lovelies <33

Taglist!!

@ag022123

@acehasmyheart

@heartz4rubyy

@ericityyy

@lilou-0401

@mitchko11

@learninglinesintherainn

@onyxmango

@private-vampire

@corrdelia

#choi su bong x reader #squid game thanos #squid game #squidgame #top x reader #thanos squid game #choi seunghyun #t.o.p x reader #thanos x reader #t.o.p #t.o.p icons #su bong x reader #choi su bong #t.o.p bigbang

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