#I love them so much they’re so cute n silly

[unearthlydream]

my partner and I are two very different types of people and it makes me giggle so much lol

like I woke up twoish hours ago and spent the last two hours laying on the couch slowly waking up and drinking my coffee.

my partner woke up exactly ten minutes ago and has since cleaned up some laundry and is currently reorganizing our freezer??? baby hasn’t even wiped the sleep from their eyes and trying to be productive !!!

sometimes I’m envious bc god I wish that was me. But other times, like now, I’m just like wow ur such a silly baby wtf are you doin hehehe I love them

[weezerlvr228]

rivers if he was absorbed by poisonous gas but didn’t care too much

[nereidprinc3ss]

slumber party

in which there's only one bed. fem bau!reader x spencer reid

fluff! warnings/tags: dark humor, (the word molest is used jokingly once but in my defense your honor its completely on brand for early seasons cm humor, if u cancel me u have to cancel the whole cast those are the rules, its just a joke cause reader always flirts w him aggressively, pls don't come for me i have a wife and children and three boyfriends to take care of,) mutual pining, bullying and death threats as flirting, they love each other so much and bicker like children, glasses spencer, (moans), emily and rossi are mentioned bc canon means fuck all to me, i think thats it but this is my most out of pocket duo so if i'm wrong lmk a/n: just a silly little thing that i cooked up, not a masterpiece but i think its cute!! I hope u enjoy!! lmk what you think!! looooveee youuuu

“Oh, there is no way.”

Your duffel bag hits the dingy carpet as Spencer is still closing the door behind you. 

“What? Is it���”

You give him a look over your shoulder, eyebrows raised as if to say, what are you going to do about this?

But he only manages to meet your eyes for a split second before they’re back to the singular queen bed, darting over the white sheets and pillows like he might find another mattress if he looks hard enough. 

Sharing a room with Spencer, you can handle. You've done it before. Whenever the team has to pair up at a hotel, you two are an obvious choice. And while you occasionally butt heads, mostly you adore each other and it's great.

But sharing a bed is a whole other situation.

One you were not prepared for. And evidently, neither is he.

Watching his big anxious eyes flit around the room nervously, you feel sort of bad for your reaction. You know you can be a bit… abrasive, sometimes. 

“It’s fine, I’ll just—I’ll see if I can share a bed with Emily or JJ in their room—”

Just then there’s a knock at the door. Spencer looks relieved to have something else to focus on, turning back around and quickly undoing the latch again before opening the door to reveal your favorite raven-haired SSA. Emily leans past the doorjamb, eyes immediately honing in on the awkward sleeping arrangement. 

“Oh my god! You guys too?”

“What?” You and Spencer ask at the same time. Emily raises her eyebrows at this and glances between you, but otherwise doesn’t comment. 

“Me and JJ only have the one bed. I thought it might just have been us.”

You frown. There goes your plan of sharing a room with them. 

“What about Morgan and Garcia?”

Spencer snorts.

“Something tells me Penelope wouldn’t be too torn up about it if that's the case.”

“Hotch and Rossi?”

The room goes quiet and a little chilly as the thought disturbs everyone equally. Emily frowns deeply.

“I don’t even… I can’t picture that.”

“Can we please not try to picture it?”

“Great. Okay, well. I just wanted to make sure everyone is suffering equally. Good luck, champs.”

“Thanks,” Spencer mutters dryly. Emily smiles, eyes darting between the two of you for just a moment too long, before pushing off the door frame and disappearing from sight. Once the door is closed again, a heavy silence ensues. “I’ll… I can take the floor—”

“It’s fine, Spencer. I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor. We’re both grown-ups. Besides, we like each other, right? It’ll be like a slumber party.”

“I’ve never had one,” he admits. His glasses slip further down his nose as he frowns. Your fingers itch to push them back up. 

“Then I’m happy to be your first,” you tease, facing him fully with your hand on your hip and barely resisting the urge to add, I’ll be gentle. “Do you want the shower first or can I?”

Spencer has a habit of looking you up and down like he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. Some might find it odd, but his utter lack of social graces is, lucky for him, incredibly endearing to you. 

“You can have it first,” he says, meeting your eyes again. “Just don’t do that thing where you get the entire bathroom soaking wet.”

“Aw. But I love doing that. It’s my favorite part,” you tease, scooping up your bag once more.

Twenty minutes later you’re emerging from the bathroom with damp hair, clad in loose shorts and a college hoodie. 

“Nice outfit,” Spencer says from the spinny-chair at the desk, examining your outfit choice with a scrutiny you wish you’d been prepared for. Really, you wish you’d known ahead of time you’d have a roommate and brought some alternate sleeping clothes. “I had no idea you felt so passionately about… Scooby Doo?”

“Shut up right now,” you grit, tossing your bag into the corner of the room and tugging your hoodie down over your cartoon-patterned shorts as far as you can. 

“What?” He’s laughing as he brushes past you on his way into the bathroom, bearing his own bag. “It’s a good look for you.”

Your face is burning as you choose the side of the bed furthest from the door. Springs creak underneath your weight as you sink down, sitting with your legs hanging off the side for a moment before swinging them up onto the mattress, leaning against the headboard and side-eyeing the empty space next to you. There’s really not very much of it. The bed feels even smaller than it looks. 

From the bathroom you hear the sound of the shower squeaking and starting up again—a cacophony of droplets against tile on the other side of the wall. You try not to be nervous as you imagine Spencer filling the space beside you in just a few minutes, hair wet and in pajamas. And yet you spend each second wondering if he’s almost done, wondering if the shower will finally sputter to a halt, and once it does, wondering how long it’ll be before he’s out again. It’s ridiculous how impatient you're getting—and by the time you finally watch the door knob twist you feel crazy. 

“I think that was your longest shower yet, Dr. Reid.”

The teasing affords you a moment to ogle him head to toe, taking in his choice of pajamas—tonight, familiar plaid pants and an MIT crewneck—as well as his hair which has already begun to dry. Briefly you wonder if he does that thing guys do, where they lean down and haphazardly dry their hair with a towel because they have no concern for its texture whatsoever. But you kind of doubt it, because his hair always looks so soft. 

“You were sitting here waiting for me?” He chuckles, and honestly you’d been expecting a shyer response. But you adapt quickly. 

“Maybe I was. Big spoon or little spoon?”

“Ha-ha.” He opens a drawer in the dresser and begins unpacking his clothes into it. It's a funny habit of his. You never unpack your duffel. “You took the better side of the bed.”

“Uh, yeah. I’m the woman. I get to do that.”

“Well you should know that if an intruder breaks in, I’m not fighting him off. You’d probably have a better chance than me.”

“And my chances will be even better if he’s distracted with you first.”

“So I’m just bait?” He scoffs, looking back at you. Strands of wet hair hang so prettily around his face, like the perfect frame around a work of art. You smile sweetly from your spot on the bed before playfully biting at the air in his direction. The message goes unspoken but reads loud and clear. Of course you are. You make such good bait. 

That gets a blush out of him and he has nothing else to say as he turns back to his drawer. Happily you lean back against the headboard, stretching your legs out and bouncing slightly in place. Beneath you the mattress springs groan and squeak in protest. 

“I hope you're not going to be this irritating all night.”

It's clearly lighthearted, but you promptly stop and frown at his back. 

“Call me irritating again and see where you end up sleeping tonight.”

“I just don’t see how you’re even more hyperactive than usual right now. Has anybody ever told you that you’re crepuscular?” Spencer asks, finally sliding the drawer shut and going to shut the overhead light off. Your eyes narrow. 

“Obviously nobody has told me that.”

“It means y—”

“I’m most energetic within the few hours around dusk and dawn. Contrary to your belief, Dr. Reid, other people are also capable of looking up words in a dictionary and remembering what they mean. Are you going to stand in the corner all night or are you gonna come to bed?”

“I am,” he scoffs, clearly embarrassed and shy and embarrassed of being shy. “I’m just… you look like you kick in your sleep. And hog the blankets.”

You shrug, folding your knees to your chest and hugging them quaintly. 

“I’ve never had any complaints. In fact, you should be so lucky to share a bed with me. All five star reviews, baby.” 

You toss a suggestive wink in at the end, which seems garish enough to break the tension so that Spencer can stop lingering in the corner like a sleep-paralysis demon and move to carefully take his place next to you. He almost mirrors your position, but his legs are too long to quite manage your level of compactness and so they simply fold underneath him. A few silent moments go by, in which you have the dumbest smile on your face and you keep glancing over to the side, waiting for him to be looking back at you. 

“This is already the least relaxed I have ever been in a bed.”

“Good thing we’re not going to sleep yet.”

Finally he looks at you, a casual mix of hesitance, concern, and moderate curiosity coloring his features. 

“We’re not?”

“Oh, my god, Spencer,” you snort. “I’m not gonna molest you. We have to do slumber party stuff, remember?”

He flushes again, glancing at the digital clock in his bedside table. 

“But it’s late. We should go to sleep.”

“At slumber parties you have to stay up until you literally can’t keep your eyes open anymore. Those are the rules. I don’t make them.”

Still, your insistence that you follow the international code of sleepover law goes unabided by Spencer. He simply leans over to flick off his lamp, bathing the room in darkness. 

“I appreciate the effort,” he says, and your eyes haven’t adjusted but you can hear the rustle of sheets and blankets as he gets under them, “but unfortunately we have to be awake and alert in five hours.”

“You’re no fun,” you huff, but climb under your own side of the cover and scoot down until you’re flat on your back, covered in blanket and hands folded on your sternum. 

Spencer doesn’t respond. 

It’s silent for maybe five minutes, during which your brain doesn’t slow down at all. Maybe you are crepuscular. Or slightly nocturnal. You have nothing but energy. 

In an attempt to get comfortable, you try adjusting your position.

The mattress squeaks. 

You do it again. 

Another squeak. 

A second goes by, and now you’re intentionally jostling about, squeaking the mattress as much as you can. 

“Would you stop that?” Spencer says, voice already gravelly with sleep. You manage, but you’re already devolving into a fit of giggles. “I’m going to smother you with this pillow,” he threatens, but you hear the disgruntled smile curling his words. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just not in the mood to rest.”

Another moment passes. He sighs deeply. You smile into the dark. 

“What are you in the mood for?” He asks flatly, and you’ve won. 

“Tell me a secret,” you immediately demand in a hushed tone, flipping on your side to face his back. “Something you’ve never told anyone else.”

“I don’t—”

“Shh! You have to whisper it. Those are the slumber party rules.”

“I don’t have any secrets,” he whispers, clearly flustered, and to your delight, rolling to face the ceiling. “None that you’d want to hear.”

“Oh, now that’s just not true. You’re an enigma, Spencer Reid. You fascinate me.”

You’re only sort of kidding. 

“I… fascinate you?”

“Completely. You know, ever since you moved your desk across from mine I get distracted just staring at you and wondering what you’re thinking about. But you’re very… hard to read, sometimes. I think it’s because you’re a Scorpio.”

“The position of the stars at the time I was born has no bearing on my personality.”

“Fine,” you concede, still in a glorified stage whisper. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t display the archetypal Scorpio traits. You’re all brooding, mysterious. Kinda, I don't know... intense and sexy and unknowable…”

“Sexy?” He laughs, breaking the whisper rule. You grin and let it slide. You’d hoped he would catch that one. 

“Hey,” you snap, losing the smile immediately and lightly shoving against what you hope is his shoulder. “You’re supposed to be telling me a secret, damnit. I won’t let your wiles and charm distract me from getting what I want.”

“When have you ever let anything stop you from getting what you want?”

Truly, your cheeks are going to start aching with this constant back and forth between poker-faced and huge Cheshire smile. 

“Stop flirting and answer my question, Reid.”

With the amount of times you’ve made him sigh tonight he must be dizzy. You chew your lip apprehensively in the silence, picking a loose thread on your pillow. It’s so pitch black in the room, you can’t see him where he lies only a few meager inches from you. But you can feel his presence. You can feel the unexpected bass to his voice when he’s tired and speaking this lowly, which you’ve never heard before.

“All the secrets I’ve never told anyone are just… depressing.”

Your heart sinks a little at the way he swallows between words, like that in and of itself was hard to admit. Unthinkingly your hand slides into the small gap of white cotton between the two of you. 

“Not very good slumber party material, I think,” he laughs self-consciously. 

“You’d be surprised.” 

The sentiment comes quieter and more serious than you’ve been all night. If only you had the words to tell him that he can tell you anything. That you want to hold his secrets for him under lock and key. That you would never, ever do anything less than offer him kindness and support—even if it doesn’t always seem that way when you’re teasing him. 

“Do you have any secrets you’ve never told anyone else?” He murmurs eventually, so soft it could kill you. 

And you do. There are plenty of dark ones, probably not all dissimilar from those he’d elected not to share only a moment ago. 

But you don’t bring those up. 

Instead, you decide to admit to something silly. Still, it makes you nervous as you feel it coming loose in your chest. You’ve really never told anyone this, and it’s perhaps more vulnerable than you’d realized before the words were already leaving your mouth. 

“I, have…” You pause to laugh at yourself, and continue on. “I have a stuffed dragon that I take with me on every single case.”

“You do?” Spencer laughs, so loud and unexpected it almost hurts your ears, angling his head toward you. Blood rushes to your face. 

“Yes. He usually sleeps in bed with me. He’s an excellent listener and has been the origin of several of my most genius breakthroughs. You remember Gibson Cooper?”

“Family annihilator from Houston?” 

“Correct. He’s in prison because Oscar helped me make the Cook Creek Campground connection between the O’Hara and Diangelo families.”

“You have a stuffed profiler dragon named Oscar? Is he here?”

“He’s—I mean, I wasn’t expecting to share a room with someone.”

“So he’s in your bag.”

“Yes,” you seethe, “and I will not be introducing you to him. He doesn’t do well with men.”

“You are genuinely psychotic.”

You huff.

“Fine. I’m sorry I told you anything.”

You’re about to roll over onto your other side—but Spencer surprises you by catching the hand that had been outstretched in his direction. He carefully intertwines your fingers and squeezes gently. 

“You’re right. That was mean. Thank you for telling me about Oscar.” His tone is surprisingly teasing, and you’re so uncharacteristically flustered by this rare show of physicality and affection that you can’t muster an adequate comeback. Spencer doesn’t seem to mind filling your silence, though, sounding a little more solemn now. “I’m sorry I don’t have any secrets for you.”

The way his voice gets all thin and scratchy sometimes—it’s like the earnest sincerity just pours out of him. He can’t control it. He can’t be anyone other than who he is. Maybe that’s a part of why you love him so much. You wonder if he knows how much you love him. It’s not exactly a secret—anyone on the team would be able to tell as much. You’ve been relentlessly teased for the way you are with him. For your batting lashes and your lingering touches and your unabashed flirting. But beneath it all is true affection, and nobody doubts that. 

“It’s okay,” you decide with a squeeze of your own, after a moment of deliberation. “You’ll think of something. ’Cause, y’know—you’re stuck with me for at least a few more days.”

“Oh, god,” he laughs, and releases your hand, rolling over to face away from you. But you don’t mind. You’ll get lots more time to invade his personal space over the coming week or so. “Goodnight.”

“Sweet dreams,” you sing-song, turning away to face the wall with what is perhaps your biggest, stupidest smile yet.

[tender-rosiey]

pretty babies – gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: idk about yall but I love me some drunk gojo

satoru never drinks, but when he does, ohoho, you’re in for quite the ride.

today was one of the days when he was less of a chaotic handful but more of an emotional mess who apparently can’t even remember his own wife. you sip on your drink, ignoring the drunk satoru leaning on the bar.

he slurs his words as he tries to flirt, “you’re sooo pretty, y’know that?”

you nod with a hum and give him no further reaction. in situations like these, you figured out that letting him go all out until he is tired and sleepy is the best solution. it really is like treating a baby.

thankfully, after many years of being in the presence of one gojo satoru, you’ve built up some patience.

he rests his head on the counter and he looks up at you, eyes wide and in awe, “I bet,” he hiccups and it is followed by a silly little giggle, “we’d make superrrr cute babies! like all round and chubby and we’d much on their cheeks like…mochi! yes! mochi…now I am hungry.”

a smirk makes an appearance on your face as you glance at satoru who is blabbering about building a family with you and spoiling you rotten.

a little teasing won’t harm anyone. so you quip, “you know,” and his attention is already on you, “you already gave me three super cute babies.”

his mouth is wide open in disbelief as he sits up, “no way!”

“yup! and they’re waiting at home for us.”

his eyes crinkle because of his wide grin, “really?!” he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug, “you got photos?! please tell me that you do!” and he switches to a pout so quickly, it gives you whiplash.

however, you gladly pull out your phone and show him the multitude of photos you have.

ones ranging from him being in a crib to help the youngest one sleep to ones with two of the three kids ganging up on him and him desperately calling for your help. satoru goes through every single photo, head on your shoulder and cheek squished.

he is silent throughout it all and when he is done, he looks up at you, “so that means that you’re my wife?”

you nod and your fingers, naturally, find their place on his head. he feels a little shiver of satisfaction before he smiles, one lovesick and silly smile, “I really hit the jackpot.”

you laugh, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, “I guess you did.”

so you take him back home where the kids are already asleep. satoru crashes on the bed right away, steady breaths filling the room. slowly, you take your place beside him and you feel his arms wrap around you.

he pulls you closer and buries his face in your hair. and you close your eyes, letting yourself be lulled to the land of dreams.

when you do wake up, you’re greeted by satoru literally on top of you and deep in sleep. you would like to let him sleep more especially since he looks so comfortable, but you’re going to suffocate at this rate. so you pat his back lightly, “satoru, honey, wake up.”

he groans and buries his face in the crook of your neck, grumbling something along the lines of ‘five more minutes’.

not budging? then fine, you decide. you take as deep of a breath as you can then call for your kids, “who will help mama?!”

it’s quiet and you can feel satoru smirking against your skin. it looks like he won, but then a bunch of footsteps are heard and it’s your turn to smirk.

your husband lifts his head to glare at you—of course, not without sporting one of his famous pouts.

the door is then slammed open and your eldest son is there, “WHO DARES HURT OUR MAMA?!”

he gasps, very dramatically like a certain someone, and points at his dad, “PAPA?! you’re suffocating mama!”

“again?!” your daughter pops up from behind her brother, staring at her dad in disbelief.

they both stand beside your bed glaring at him and he glares back, the three of them forgetting why you called for your kids in the first place. so you do them a favor and remind them, “satoru…I AM GOING TO DIE LIKE THIS!”

satoru is pulled  back by his shirt and your kids take turns in—trying—to beat him up. you get up, greedily breathing air till you’re satisfied. you ignore the screams of your husband until you’re done with your morning routine.

luckily enough, when you got out of the bathroom, you found no one except your husband.

laying on the ground.

presumably dead.

with a bunch of drawings on his face and his hair contained with multiple hair bands.

you snap a picture of him very quickly then you sit on the ground next to his corpse. you poke his butt and he groans, making you giggle, “what happened to the strongest sorcerer?”

he turns towards you with a small frown, “his pretty wife didn’t kiss him good morning so he had no energy to fight,” his head snaps towards the two tiny figures giggling behind the door, “these monsters.”

they squeal and run away once again before he catches them.

you gently take the hair bands off, “you’re lucky that our youngest devil is still asleep,” you then smooth down his hair and pat his head, “I love the smiley faces on your cheeks.”

he whines and rests his head on your shoulder, “stop bullying me!”

you hum and stroke his hair, “you know, you did something pretty cute yesterday.”

“I am always cute; what’re you talking about?”

“you flirted with me, your wife, and said we would make ‘super cute!’ babies,” you reveal and satoru seems unbothered. in fact, he seems proud and very happy with himself so you continue, “so I had to remind you of our three little devils and then I showed you pictures.”

he stands up, posing all confidently, “what can I say? I excel at everything even being cute—“

“then you cried like a little baby when I showed you my picture post labor and kept apologizing.”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @jisbizarre @kunikida-simp @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @wemma67 @nothisispatrick300

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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[formulafics]

❀ MAKE IT REAL | OP81

Scenario: basically ‘the winner takes all’, but oscar edition…or, the one where despite yn being the closest to oscar, no one suspects the two to be dating. that is, until a video of the pair at a valley concert comes out. (inspired by the song ‘Cure’ by Valley (bless @renarots for this one))

Pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader

A/N: squadron, it is an oscar day. it took me entirely too long to get to this request, but i’ve finally made it. i hope you guys like this fic as much as i liked making it 🫶🏻

MASTERLIST

ynln on instagram

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ynln happy halloween 🎃😚

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landonorris why is oscar standing like that

⤷ ynln he’s just a boy leave him alone

papayabull MY BABIES THEYRE SO CUTE

dreamyalbon this friendship is everything to me

⤷ formulaferrari not a single thing about yn and oscars relationship is giving “friends” but okay

⤷ dreamyalbon there’s no way they’re anything more than friends though 😭

rizzciardo the way yn’s whole feed is becoming oscar is so funny

formulaverstappen who’s gonna tell them that daphne and fred had a romantic relationship

⤷ ln4nation to be fair, it’s pretty common for friends to go as romantic duos, platonically.

ynln on instagram

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, maxfewtrell, riabish, logansargeant, and 142,211 others

ynln the best mornings ☀️ (also i made oscar the bracelet he’s wearing in the third slide i feel so proud of myself)

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oscarpiastri ❤️

riabish second slide 🥹

⤷ norrisnation ria and yn’s friendship is my favorite thing ever

dreamyalbon yn making oscar a bracelet is so cute </3

formulaferrari another day, another oscar post from yn. i love it here

landosbeachball THE ONLY BESTIES EVER 🫶🏻 the slide of them holding hands omg

f1wagsdaily on Instagram

13,621 likes

f1wagsdaily do you think yn ln is dating anyone on the grid? if so, who? 👀

(left to right) yn and lando, yn and daniel, yn and charles

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norrisnation im so convinced that if it’s anyone it’s danny ric 😭 how do you go to music festivals and football games together so often and NOT date

⤷ charlesrrari yes but also they don’t hang out NEARLY as much anymore? also to be fair, yn’s closest friend - oscar aside - is lando, so it’s kind of natural that she would be in the mclaren garage more, so it just SEEMS like it’s daniel? idk im not convinced that it’s him

formula44 idk i feel like lando is the only one that makes sense

⤷ papayabull what about oscar?

⤷ formula44 idk i just can’t see them together

xf1x oscar piastri (solely based on how much they’re togwther)

⤷ papayanorris lore drop: yn rejected oscar in f3 because he was too busy so id imagine it’s the same now 🤷🏻‍♀️

⤷ xf1x to me that makes it seem more likely since that means they were obviously interested in each other?

⤷ papayanorris good point but maybe theyve moved on? 👀

⤷ pastrypiastri okay but imagine dating oscar and he’s THAT close with another girl, and same with yn being that close with another guy? idk this thread might have put me on the ynoscar agenda 🤭

shumirrari wild guess: jenson button (if you know you know)

⤷ chilisainz what am i missing?

⤷ shumirrari basically lando and jenson button are sort of friends so lando introduced yn to jenson at a race, and lando took pictures of them together. i’m pretty sure yn posted them a while back? idk but it was just a silly guess (her and jenson would be cute though, but i highly doubt it’s them LMAO)

formulaferrari i am TIRED why does no one have faith in the oscyn agenda

⤷ formulaferrari also does no one notice that oscar always is kind of shy around yn or am i actually delusional on this one

⤷ charlesrrari wait lowkey you’re onto something rn 👀

grandprixsandgossip on Instagram

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grandprixsandgossip Oscar Piastri and Yn Ln, a known friend of many drivers on the grid, seen kissing outside of a concert arena last night.

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norrisnation girl there’s three pixels on my screen that could be anyone

papayabull oscar jack piastri what are you DOING

piastrisgirl never, and i mean NEVER, did i expect that out of all the f1 drivers, oscar would be the one where we find out about his girlfriend like this

ln4world this cannot be real

formulaferrari SCREAMING IM INSANE THIS IS EVERHTINH TO ME

stardustf1 okay but wasn’t oscar wearing a hoodie in the other picture that the one guy posted?

⤷ rizzciardo yes, but i’m assuming oscar took the hoodie off and gave it to yn, because not only can you see her wearing a hoodie in this picture (even though it’s blurry, it looks like the same one oscar was wearing), AND ria posted a story of her and yn goofing off after the concert where yn was wearing a black hoodie so 👀

chilisainz were not gonna mention yn in the likes?

⤷ norrisnation she’s having her pierre moment 🤷🏻‍♀️

ynln on Instagram

🎶 Cure - Valley

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ynln concerts are my heaven, but they’re paradise when i’m with him 🫶🏻 @/oscarpiastri is my concert buddy for life whether he wants it or not

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landonorris but are you dating or?

⤷ ynln i’m gonna need you to be so fr rn lando

oscarpiastri fortunately for us, i’m more than happy to be your concert buddy. ❤️

⤷ ynln music to my ears 😚

riabish literally the cutest couple i know *liked by ynln*

princepiastri THE CAPTION, OSCARS COMMENT, THE PICTURES?? THIS IS THE WORST DAY OF MY LIFE

formula44 yn im sorry for not believing in you and oscar

dreamyalbon AND WHOS GOING TO MENTION THE SONG??

⤷ yukit22enthusiast AS A VALLEY LOVER I AM RIGJT THERE WITH YOU

formulaferrari THE FACT THAT THESE SRE ALL DIFFERENT CONCERTS OH MYGOD

formulaferrari i can finally call them my parents and not get flamed

papayabull and so whatever you do don’t listen to the song because i’m so upset

⤷ stardustf1 someone harassed(/j) the guy who took the picture of them at the concert into telling them what song was playing when he took that picture and it was cure 🫠💔

⤷ papayabull NOOOOO it’s officially their song, i don’t make the rules

TAGLIST

@renarots @jsjcue @treehouse-mouse @lovstappen @illicitverstappen @vellicora @lokietro @arkhammaid @piasstrisblog @leclercvsx @i-love-ptv @pretty-little-bunny382728 @kortneej81 @elliegrey2803 @marshmummy @spidersophie @stopeatread @minkyungseokie @jellyfish123guts @harrysdimple05 @fastcarsandshit @motorsp0rt @sadieurlady @cixrosie @hiireadstuff

Thank you for reading! All feedback is appreciated 💞

[cas-backwards-tie]

The 141 Men and Butt Grabbing

Request: How the boys react to getting their butts grabbed? 🍑

Warnings: Allusions to Sex, Spanking, Groping, Exhibitionism, Predator-Prey-Play, PDA, Established Relationships.

A/N: this is for @vikki-tikki-tavii 💕🙏🏻 thanks for your requests and ideas! I really appreciate them and this one definitely made me laugh to do 🥰 also credit to @bettybrenders on tiktok 🙈 for the lovely photos/renders of the guys 🧎‍♀️ I was just hoping to give you guys a visual. divider by @cafekitsune

Price: John is someone who has a sense of humor, okay? He has a sense of humor and he’ll prove it to you if you argue with him about it… that being said, however, if you spank or grab his butt in front of his friends (or god forbid—coworkers—but let’s face it, they’re usually one in the same) he’ll absolutely find himself flustered with his cheeks flushing a degree of red. You’ll be in serious trouble, no doubt, and he’ll make sure to repay the gesture tenfold when you two are alone again. Now if he’s in a position where he’s out and about and you do so, and he finds a quick moment where he won’t get caught returning the favor, he most definitely will swat one on you. However, if you’re alone and you decide to grab a handful, you’re either starting something he isn’t sure you can finish, or he’s laughing at the boldness of you. This usually winds up with you being chased throughout the house for revenge.

Ghost: Simon is more deadly in his reaction. Like his superior, if you happen to catch him in a vulnerable position out with friends in public, he’ll shoot you a look. You know how he feels about PDA, and if you’re caught red handed by the lot of bastards he calls friends, they’ll give him shit to no end. He doesn’t mind that, so much, as not feeling like he can return the favor within the company of others. What happens between the two of you should be reserved for the bedroom. Though what starts as a look, quickly turns into bedroom eyes and usually winds up with one of you dragging the other off to a secluded spot to continue things. When you’re alone, he’s more than glad to return the favor if you’d like, but when it comes to spanks, it’s not typically his style. He’ll slide his arms around your waist while you’re kissing and scoop up a handful, making sure to give you a nice squeeze in return. Overall, he finds it funny and cute how much joy you take in his caboose, and it’ll almost always garner an amused smile or a chuckle from the Giant.

Gaz: When it comes to Kyle, I fear it depends on his mood. Whether you give him a sneaky spank, or decide to just tease him with a nice squeeze of his cheeks, he’ll usually turn around and engulf you in a series of pecks and kisses all over your face. He knows how much you love to play, and he’s more than ready and able to return the mischievousness right back! With that said, if it’s a serious moment, or he’s not in the best mood, there’s a fifty-fifty chance of it lifting his mood. Sometimes he likes to be more intimate and sensual, wanting less of a silly vibe between the two of you. His work is hard, and it definitely takes a toll at times. But more often than not it draws a goofy smile onto his face and he’ll gladly return the favor if he’s in what he deems ‘the right company’… aka his friends or strangers. Really, it becomes something to get each other’s attention and bring a smile to their face. After all, he’s well aware of the effect he has on you, and vice versa.

Soap: Johnny has a hard time not giving into his impulses when it comes to you. If he can lighten the mood with a little practical fun and the excitement of his inner-child, he’s bound to do so. Between the two of you, it’s more of a game. He gets you, and you get him back. But be careful, because he’s also somewhat of a ravenous man and once he’s got a taste of you, it won’t be easy for him to back down or let go. You’re in his sights, you’ve got his attention, and boy… does he want yours back. Playing this game can either be something that’s long and drawn out, or quick and short considering you’ll eventually wind up in the bedroom (or bathroom, alley, etc) at some point down the line. Doing this will always distract him and take his mind off things, consequently turning him on, so you better be prepared for the consequences of your actions if you’re going around with grabby hands. Because he’s more than eager to return the favor!

[notjustjavierpena]

Panties

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Well look who are back. I didn’t think dbf!joel still existed in my brain but it seems that he is actually thriving. A little treat for you all while I polish some hubby stuff. This one absolutely goes out to @sugadolly 💖💅🫶

Summary: You show off your cute little underwear. Joel wants to fuck you but you want to try something else.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, dbf!joel, age gap, daddy kink, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names, reader is a good little girl, outside sex (idk what is to call it), clit stim, overstim, reader is cockdrunk af, they’re actually very much in love for real, cum!!!!

Word count: 2.2k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52857010

Panties

“Lemme see them,” Joel says with a gentle tone as he admires you only in your jeans. He is hovering above you, kisses your lips a few times, and cups your tits as he slips his tongue into your mouth for a brief moment. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, feeling his chest against your breasts as you embrace each other. You giggle softly, “They’re silly, Daddy.”

“Never thought in a million years that my baby would be silly,” he says with obvious sarcasm, nudging your nose with his own, “Show Daddy your pretty little panties. I’m gonna see ‘em eventually.”

You remove yourself from him to step back. You roll your eyes, and he raises a brow but then you follow through. 

“Fine,” you tut as you lie down on his bed. His eyes lock on your buttoned jeans, his mouth slightly agape as he breathes deeply with anticipation hanging in the air. 

You undo your jeans and pull down the zipper, wiggling your hips as you pull the denim down over them, and into view comes your pink cotton briefs. They’re cute, not silly, but you already know this, sporting a little bow on the front and a pattern of chibi-style cats.

“Well?” You kick off your jeans, throwing them onto the floor.

Joel kneels on the bed, admiring them thoroughly, “Pussy panties?”

You snort, covering your mouth and nose as you do, “Shut up.”

“Am I wrong, baby?” He crawls closer to you, lifts your legs up to bend them, and spreads them until his thighs hit the back of yours. He reaches up to peel his shirt off and throws it into your arms so you can hug it close and get drunk on his scent. 

“No,” you say as you contemplate crawling into the piece of clothing that he has given you. God, you want him everywhere on you. That masculine smell has you wet in moments.

“Makes ya look real pretty, lovebug,” he compliments, just about to peel the underwear off of you. He stops himself as you scrunch your nose up at the new pet name.

Joel laughs heartily, “Don’t like it?”

“Say it again,” you grin up at him.

“Love. Bug,” he repeats, yanks one of your legs at a time over his hips. 

“Hmm,” you tap your chin, “Maybe you should call me it as I come, just to make me associate it with something nice.”

“Cheeky,” he says as he pulls down his own underwear. They are in no way as thrilling as yours; black briefs that can barely contain his hard cock and with a little logo on the waistband. He settles them around his thighs, and whilst he does, you reach down to pull your colorful panties to the side.

“Joel?” You say his name. He makes a movement as if his ears have perked up at hearing his actual name.

“What is it?” He asks, rubbing your legs soothingly. His eyes are locked on your cunt.

“When— when you’re,” you trail off, suddenly shy, “Uh, when you…”

“Yes?” He drags the word out, looks up. 

“I want you to come on them,” your heart beats in your chest and ears but out of the corner of your eyes, you spot Joel’s cock twitching in the air upon hearing those words.

“Was that so hard to ask for?” He digs his thumbs into your thighs, causing you to squirm underneath him, “You just lie back and let Daddy treat ya right.”

You wait in anticipation. And then, oh.

Ohh.

“Ah,” you mewl, looking down between you to see what he is doing. The thick head of his cock lays heavily against your clit, and when you tell him how good it feels, he holds the base of his shaft and slaps the tip against the small nub a few times. 

You shudder, clenching around nothing and flexing your thighs as you shift a little. Joel’s cock hangs between his legs again, and his hands slide down to rest on your hips, thumbs reaching inwards to spread you open and watch your pulsing cunt. 

“You want me to make you feel good, baby? Make you come so hard that your little clit won’t stop twitchin’ until you get all teary-eyed?” He reaches for your clit to circle it with the pad of his thumb, and you can feel slick drip down between your ass cheeks. You moan helplessly and nod repeatedly, already heaving for breath, and Joel beams with pride, “Already cockdrunk? My my. I haven’t even fucked ya yet.”

“I don’t want you to f— I don’t want that,” you say suddenly, surprising even yourself. You reach down for Joel’s cock, pulling it against your cunt but not dipping the head into you. Instead, you rub him against your clit, “This, Daddy, I want to come like this.”

“I can make that happen,” he reassures, batting your hand away to replace it and grabbing at the base of his cock himself. He resumes what you were doing, dipping the head down to catch some of your wetness before adding pressure to your clit. He slides back and forth a few times, “Like that?”

“Mhm,” you hum softly, furrowing your brow in concentration. You hold still to let him rub his whole length through your folds until he is sticky with your arousal. His left hand is still grabbing your hip, and he uses it for leverage as he leans a little weight into you. 

When he grows impatient after a few minutes of you crying quietly for him, he tries to enter you. You catch his wrist and shake your head, “No! No… you promised.”

“I did no such thing,” he clicks his tongue at you. 

You pout up at him, “But…”

“Oh, don’t make that face,” he groans,  “You know I can’t do anythin’ when you make that face.”

“Please,” you beg, “I’ll come so hard for you.”

“Yeah?” He smiles down at you.

“Yeah,” you blink your eyes prettily, “This feels so good. I’ll cream all over your cock, Daddy.”

“Now how can I say no to that?” He moves a little before guiding his cockhead back to where you want it. He rubs the blunt head in circles over your clit for a moment, slaps it against the sensitive spot too, until you can hear the squelching sound of your wetness coating you. It makes him glide over your cunt easier. 

You curl your toes and bite your lip as you look down at what he is doing, “Ahh… Keep going.”

He does, building up a rhythm that has you whining pathetically. This shouldn’t be that intense but it is, making your pussy flutter and seek out more. 

“Let me try something,” you say, and he stops as you reach down, “One second.”

With both hands, you take hold of the seam of the leg of your underwear, holding tightly at the very top of it and the very bottom. You yank it down to sit tightly over the girth of Joel’s cock, essentially trapping it underneath your panties so it drags along the shaft with each of his thrusts. He sits so tightly against you now. 

“Try now,” you don’t even have to say please for Joel to know you are begging. 

“Jesus Christ,” he growls at the new sensation, spurred on to make himself feel it even more. He fucks himself against you with a sudden quickened breath. 

The bed starts shaking. You start trembling. 

You’re not able to take your eyes off of your sinful act, chewing on your bottom lip as he works his cock back and forth over and over again underneath the seam of your panties. 

“Please,” your sound is weak, “Fuck!”

“Careful with that,” he scolds, “Eyes on me.”

You quickly look up at his face, barely able to focus with how much he shakes your whole frame with every push of his lower body. 

“Say sorry,” he commands, referring to your use of a swear word. He doesn’t relent one bit, rolling his hips again and again. 

“S-sorry,” you apologize, too focused on how your orgasm is already approaching, “Please.”

“Hold on,” he slows down, and you nearly sob with how close you are, but he only does it to remove his shirt and uncover your chest again. Then he goes back to his frantic thrusts, eyes fixated on the way that your tits bounce with every push of his hips. 

“‘M close, Daddy,” you hiccup, feeling your heartbeat in all parts of your body. You throw your head back and groan loudly at the head of the bed, “I’m so close.”

If you weren’t holding onto your underwear, you would be clutching the bed frame so hard that your knuckles were white. Instead, the fabric is pulled so taut by your fingers that it hurts when it digs into your skin. You probably don’t have to do it so roughly but the pleasure racking up your spine makes you need it.

“Don’t hold back, baby,” he encourages with ragged breathing. Confident that you won’t let go as you orgasm, he lets go of himself and grabs both of your hips. He hoists you up a little, leans forward a little further, and then drives his hips back and forth, cockhead sliding over your clit repeatedly. 

“I’m gonna— Oh my God, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come,” you say it like you’re almost in a panic, almost too overwhelmed to embrace the intensity you’re about to experience. You want to push him away and pull him in at the same time but he holds you so roughly in place that you just have to take it. Your eyes find his as you let it happen, “I’m coming! Daddy, oh f— I’m coming!”

“Yeah? My love bug’s coming?” He nods as encouragement, “Come for me, darlin’ baby.”

And my God, you do. You can feel your whole pelvic floor erupt into beautiful spasms of pleasure, your clit pulsing so fast and strongly that you are sure that Joel can feel it against his dick. You thank God that he is holding onto you because you are twitching and moving involuntarily as he continues his sweet torment, and tears stream down your face. 

“That’s it, baby doll, you just cry all ya want,” Joel manages to coo between his own moans. You sob as your orgasm peaks, even more when you slip into a state of oversensitivity. Joel doesn’t relent, “Oh, baby. I know, baby, I know.”

It isn’t until your panties start to tear that he draws back, precome beading at the slit of his cock from how turned on he is. He is smeared with your arousal too, pearly white, and he seems to have put all the strength he has into holding back so you don’t pass out. 

You shiver, trying to make sense of why your body chose to make you come so hard from a simple clit orgasm. The sweat on your body suddenly feels cold, and you reach for him until he leans down and kisses your lips. You whimper into his mouth. He wipes away a few tears.

“You okay?” He asks softly, pulling back slightly to look you in the eyes as you reply.

“Yes, sorry.”

“No, no. Don’t apologize,” he tuts, “You were gorgeous. God, I am so crazy about you.”

“Now you,” you insist, looking down between the two of you to see the red tip of his weeping cock, “You promised.”

“That I did,” he draws back until he is on his knees again. He grabs the base of his dick, strokes it a few times, and then lays it against the crotch of your underwear. 

Joel rubs the head fast against the soft fabric. He holds onto your thighs, neck muscles straining as he seeks out his own pleasure. You watch him whilst delirious with post-orgasmic bliss, occasionally whimpering when he unintentionally slides over your swollen clit. 

A moment later, after one of your particularly high whines, he comes with a short breath of relief. He stains the fabric, lays his cock heavy against the front of the underwear, and pulses until he has no more to give. It’s intense to see him like this, and you find yourself grabbing his wrist to keep him in the moment with you. 

“Christ, sweetheart,” he pants. He slumps a little.

“I thought it was love bug,” you say with irresistible charm. 

“Don’t make me tell you to lick ‘em clean, young lady,” he smirks, already crawling forward to lay down on top of you. He crushes you so heavenly with his weight, pretending-biting your cheek and causing you to snicker, “Are we clear?”

You hold him close, relishing in everything that he is, “We’re clear. I’ll behave. Somewhat.”

“Somewhat?” He nuzzles into your neck and presses a kiss. 

“Well, I don’t think I’m quite satisfied,” you say dramatically. 

Joel pulls back to glare at you, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, I need you inside me too,” you pout even more dramatically, “Pussy feels so lonely, Daddy. Needs something.”

“Well, we can’t starve this insatiable pussy, can we?” Joel catches on quickly, and soon, he has you screaming on three of his fingers. 

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[wintfleur]

hi roro! love your works!! they’re so good like, I come back and read them over and over😭 can you do a fic where the reader is regularly in landos streams and the fans just adore them and it’s so cutie? thank you so much! if not just ignore this omg 😂

ꔫ baby we’re on camera

°. — pairings ( lando norris x fem! reader )

°. — summary ( lando loves teasing his girl on stream )

°. — details ( g; fluff. w; slightly suggestive at the end ig? wc; 2.6k )

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( omg I’m soso sorry about how long this took for me to get out, I absolutely loved the idea I just don’t know why it took me so long to write! I also read the part where the reader is regularly in the streams wrong, but I do hope you enjoy it! And thank you so much for the kind words! 🫶🏻 also thank you to my lovely bestie @chrisevansonly for helping me come up with some of the ridiculous usernames! )

main masterlist f1 masterlist

“Where is y/n” Lando reads aloud as he leans back in his chair, the neon yellow username catching his attention in his moving chat. A smile immediately appeared on his face at the mention of his girlfriend of a few years, a few people in the chat noticing and commenting on it. When he first started streaming, he always used to get shy whenever his chat would mention you, sometimes choosing to not comment on the messages. 

Only because he didn't want to make you uncomfortable by over sharing. He loved talking about you, he could talk about you for hours, but he would respect your desire for privacy. But over the years of your relationship the two of you became more open about your relationship, and you often found yourself appearing on his stream; and his chat absolutely loved all the cute moments that would happen when you do. 

“She went out with some of her girlfriends” he nodded as he softly drummed a beat on the armrests of his chair with his fingers. His mind took him back to the morning where he kissed you goodbye and watched you walk out of the apartment; you looked so pretty all dolled up to go out with your friends. Lando suddenly missed you very much the more he thought about you. 

“Actually, she should be home any minute now” he mumbled, loud enough for the microphone to pick it up. He leans forward and picks up his phone, hoping to see a text from you saying that you're on your way home, but instead he just sees his wallpaper of you posing dramatically with a golf club, no text in sight. His lips twitch up to a smile at the sight of his silly wallpaper, he loved your silly side. 

“Actually, I have no idea when she's going to be home” Lando chuckles as he sets his phone back down. He hoped that you came back soon, he had noticed it started to rain and he always got worried about you driving in the rain. You were fully capable; he was just always worrying about you. 

“Did she go out with the other wags?” Lando read out loud a chat message, he had noticed a few other messages asking the same thing. He didn't understand why a lot of his fans were so obsessed with seeing you with the other wags. He answered with a smile “No no she went out with some childhood friends that came to visit; she was really excited to see them.” 

“Guys I'm not going to call her; I don't want to interrupt her fun” Lando shakes his head with a small chuckle. Sometimes it felt like his chat was clingier than he was with you, and that's nearly impossible because he's one clingy boyfriend. Lando focuses on one of his monitors to change the music, his eyes were on his monitor, so he didn't see the chat explode with messages about you and he didn't see you open the door and peek your head in. 

You had gotten home about 10 minutes ago and usually the first thing you would do is greet your boyfriend, but this time you had to change out of your damp clothes. The rain had definitely surprised you and your friends. You quietly opened the door, your fluffy sock covered feet softly padded against the floor. Lando glanced at his chat and saw everyone saying, ‘hi y/n!’. Lando quickly turns his head, and a big smile appears on his face at the sight of you “Baby, you're back!” 

“Yeah, I got back not too long ago, had to change first” you explained to your boyfriend as you stepped closer to him, looking down at your outfit consisting of, fluffy socks, gray sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt. You tried not to glance at the camera too much, you were still a little nervous about being in front of the camera, so you kept the conversation going. You hand your boyfriend who was smiling at you, the brown bakery box filled with delicious pastries “I brought you something, i just knew i had to get you some when i tried them.” 

“Thank you, baby, these look delicious” he gives you one more big smile before he takes a bite into one of the sugary donuts. He lets out a dramatic groan of satisfaction as he leans back in his chair, they were absolutely delicious. You roll your eyes and let out a small laugh, leaning slightly against his chair. You look away from the chat that was moving way too fast for you to read, and back down at lando who was absolutely devouring the pastry. “Just don’t eat all of them, i don't want jon to hate me.” 

“Who cares if he does…because I love you” Lando smiles cheekily, tilting his head up to place a kiss on your cheek. You close your eyes and let out a surprised giggle, wiping off the excess sugar that got on your cheek from his lips. Lando gives you a wink when you open your eyes and goes back to reading his chat. His heart filled with warmth at all the messages saying how cute the two of you are, and how some said they wished they had a sweet girlfriend like you; those made him want to smirk, knowing that there was no one even close to being like you. You were perfect in his eyes. 

landolotts  you guys are so cute, y/n is so lucky…

ittybittypiastri  where did she get that sweater? Link? 

dannyricscowboyhat  lando can pull??? How???

hornerishot  omg moms back! 

oconsunderatedbby  can y/n/n stay? We've missed her! <3 

quadrantstar   we've missed you y/n! 

“The chat wants you to stay, so do i” Lando looked up at you with a smile on his lips, his tone trailing off to a soft whisper. His eyes silently begging you to stay, he understands why you wouldn't, but he still was hopeful. You noticed the look in his eyes, and you couldn't say no to him, not with how he was looking up at you. “Okay, let me go get a chair.” 

“You have one,” Lando smiles playfully, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you down to sit on his lap. Your eyes widened for a second at his boldness and Lando worried for a moment that he was too bold when he felt you stiffen in his lap, but the both of you relaxed as you leaned back against him and laced your fingers with his, that now rested on your thigh. 

You decided not to look at the chat, knowing that their messages would make you feel more flustered. You clear your throat and tilt your head to the side to get a better look at lando, who was already smiling at you “So what were you and chat up to?” 

“We were just chatting and trying to decide what game to play next” Lando said with a cheeky smile as he looked away from you to read the chat, a giggle leaving his lips at some of the messages. Most of them were funny and sweet, of course there was the occasional weird one, but Lando chose to hold his tongue, not wanting to go off on weird chatters while you were there. You already weren't the most comfortable in front of the camera, he didn't want to make you feel more uncomfortable by calling out the weird freaks in his chat. 

“You should play Fortnite” you suggest with a big smile, you have enjoyed watching your boyfriend stream the game. The two of you having even more fun when you played it together off stream. Lando playfully rolls his eyes and tilts his head to the side, dramatically shaking his head “You only want me to play that because you like teasing me about how bad i am.” 

“That I do” you quickly agreed with a laugh. Lando gasped dramatically and his hold on your waist tightened as he pulled you back closer to his chest, as he continued with his dramatics, little did chat know he was already booting up the said game “Are you hearing this chat?” 

The chat was moving fast, as many of the chatters commented on how cute the two of you were, and how natural the banter was. A lot of the viewers agreed that he should play Fortnite, saying that ‘mom’ always has good ideas. Lando had also wanted to play the game, but now he wanted to play it more because you suggested it. He spoke quietly, his tone sending shivers down your spine as his eyes were focused on the screen. “I’ll play just for you baby.”  

The couple spent the next hour playing Fortnite, well lando was playing and you were still perched in his lap and giving him some tips, you had younger siblings so of course you knew how to play the game. After Lando got frustrated about losing for the third time in a row, he was quick to suggest you have a go at the ‘stupid game’. 

So, you sat straight on his lap, your eyes focused on the game, determined to place further in the game then he did. Lando had both of his arms wrapped around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder as he watched with a smile at how cute you looked with his headphones on your head and the cute look of focus you had on your face. He had to stop himself from leaning down and littering your neck in kisses, he could vividly imagine your reaction if he did. ‘Baby were on camera’ you would mutter shyly with that flustered smile on your lips, that he loved so much. 

You weren't familiar with the new map that well, so you let lando pick a place for you to drop. When Lando started to tease you for your sneaking you were quick to defend your game play, sassily telling him that you're not playing for kills but playing to win. The chat loved the chemistry that the two of you had, Lando teasing you about how he's better and you with your witty responses. 

“Lan'' you muttered in a warning tone when you feel him slip one of his hands under the front of your sweatshirt, his warm hand flattens on your stomach, you know his touch is anything but innocent. Lando has a toothy grin on his face, his fingers now tracing shapes on your skin as he spoke innocently “What? Is my touch distracting you?” 

“You wish” you scoffed playfully, not wanting him and chat to know that his touch was in fact distracting you. Lando smiles triumphantly at your reaction, knowing that you were lying, and he was in fact distracting you but nonetheless he stops his movements. Lando rests his chin on your shoulder again and quietly watches you play. His eyes glancing at the chat ever so often, his heart filling with warmth at all the sweet chats about the two of you. 

As the game goes on, Lando's quiet tone turns into a tone of excitement when he realizes that there are only three people left, including you. The chat spammed loll’s and laughing emojis as Lando excitedly tried to give you tips and you telling him to shut up because you couldn't hear yourself think. Lando pouts grumpily and leans back in his chair, now wanting your attention even more. You were too caught up in wanting to win the game to notice your pouting boyfriend. 

And win is exactly what you did, you hid until the other two started fighting and that's when you jumped out of the bush you were hiding in and killed them both. As soon as the #1 victory royal showed up on the screen you turned your head to smile excitedly at lando. Lando laughs and places a sweet kiss on your cheek, his hands rubbing our side under your sweater “Good job baby” You giggled as you say thank you, also thanking the chat that was congratulating you for your win. 

When you feel one of his fingers secretly dip into the band of your sweatpants, you take your hands off the keyboard and mouse and nonchalantly get up from his lap. Making your way over to the shelf that was by his desk and out of sight from the camera to ‘grab’ ChapStick. Lando’s frown from you getting up, turns into a smirk when he realizes why you did, having felt you clench your thighs together before you got up. 

“All right, chat I'm gonna head off. Gotta go properly congratulate my girl for winning” Lando watched your figure as you got up from his lap and moved to the other side of his room out of the view of the camera with the bite of his lip, he glanced back at the camera with a smirk. His tone was suggestive, and a loud laugh leaves his lips when you turn around and throw the small plushie he had on one of his shelves that you had gotten him at his head. Lando catches the bear as you give him a look of shock and embarrassment “Lando! Chat he's joking, please ignore him”! 

“Trust me, chat I'm not joking” Lando winks with a cheeky smile at the camera, very much enjoying how flustered you got and the way the chat started to go crazy. You groan in embarrassment and grab your phone off his desk “That's it, I'm leaving!” you wave your hand for the chat, not wanting to bend down to be in the frame of the camera, knowing that the chat would definitely be able to see how flustered you were “Bye chat!” 

Lando watched you walk out of the room with a grin, you give him a playful glare before closing the door behind you. Lando had planned on streaming for longer, but he couldn't ignore that ache he felt in his heart when you left the room, he wanted to spend more time with you. He loved watching you become more comfortable in front of the camera, in front of his chat in the short amount of time you joined him. Lando picks up his head set that you had set down on the desk when you took them off, lando hums along to the song that was playing as he closes his tabs before leaning back in his chair and reading the chat “Alright chat, it's time for me to head off.” 

Lando tried to keep up with his chat, the messages zooming by, most of them were about you. Talking about how they enjoyed your presence and begging Lando to convince you to come back on the stream soon. Lando smiles “I'll let her know chat” Lando hears the familiar sound of his phone going off with a notification. He was quick to pick up his phone, a mischievous grin spreading over his lips when he saw the notification. 

y/n 💞: in bed…waiting for that proper congratulations ☺️

Lando quickly shuts off his phone as he feels a warm blush spread across his face and neck. He clears his throat and giggles nervously when the chat breaks out in a bunch of question marks with your name, obviously seeing how flustered he had become from seeing the notification. Lando nods and waves at the chat, eager to end and join you in your shared bed “See you guys soon.” 

Lando ends the stream and quickly rushes to shut off his computer, he grabs his phone and quickly gets out of his chair and makes his way to the door. He stops in his tracks once he remembers something and rushes over to his desk to pick up the brown box of donuts. Lando opens the door, careful not to drop the delicious pastries and his phone, rushing down the hallway. Calling out for you. 

“Baby wait for me!”  

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I really missed writing for Lando, I have a lot of ideas and req’s for him that I want to write! I’ve just been kinda focused on my hockey AU! But I will try to find a better schedule so I could work on that and my f1 fics! I also have another idea for another lando streaming based fic, it’s going to be so cute! )

°. — taglist ( @iloveyou3000morgan @copper-boom @ophcelia @cixrosie )

[tiyoin]

parents day shenanigans

ep 1: trey’s mom tries playing match maker

it being parents weekend at nrc and you’re helping your friends / the staff in preparing and you noticed several different parents just… staring at you. they’re not discreet either😭

you see some students fighting their parents- like physically fighting them as they’re pushing their son in your direction 😭 you catch one of the students gaze, and smile at them, sending them a polite wave as you make your exit.

this doesn’t stop though.

the more time that goes by and the busier you get, the more families filter in. the more younger siblings of your peers seem to scream your name before a quick slap to their mouth keeps them quiet.

you’ve told grim about this and all he says is that he should start paying them to take pictures with you AND grin the great. you chuckle as you kneel to the ground. opening a small duffel bag crowley armed you with, you start mixing around for a bottle of water.

why’d crowley have to pick the hottest day of the season for family day. curses.

“you’re y/n, right?” suddenly a shadow blocked the beating sun from your crouched form. the voice, for once, was feminine, it was soft and flowy. clearing your throat, you began to turn around “yes, that’s me” looking up at the rather petite woman, you noted her kind smile and rosy cheeks.

though there was a bit of… something in her golden gaze that you couldn’t quite place. it reminded you of a hawk, yet it didn’t have the same intensity as the bird of prey’s. slightly guarded of the mystery woman, you began to stand, dusting off the dirt on your uniform pants.

“grim you mind getting me a bottle of water from the duffel” “uh, yeah i do mind” he huffed, turning his nose up. but you didn’t play into his antics this time, just softly thanking him as you turned to face the woman.

and just as you thought, in a few seconds you heard grumbling and rustling as the monster looked through the duffel.

“i’m sorry, it was rude of me to not introduce myself- i’m trey’s mom, it’s a pleasure to meet you!” sticking her hand out, you stared at it for a second, flickering your gaze to her smiling eyes before you hesitantly focused on shaking her hand.

“it’s really nice to meet you mrs.clover” she laughed, flicking her hand as if you told her a joke.

“please, just call me alice! with how much my son talks about you it feels like we’re already friends!” she smiled behind her hand. her eyes never leaving yours as she watched your jaw open in shock.

“he- he talks about me?”

like vil schonheit, she gasped in surprise, her hands flying to her mouth as if she just realized she ratted on her son. “oops! silly me, i shouldn’t have told you that! please don’t tell try what i told you the next time you see him, okay?”

about to swear your silence, her hands lowered as her lip quirked up “or do, he’s adorable when he’s flustered” and just like that the smirk was gone and her sweet persona took over.

“o- okay” you gulped due to the lost of words you seem to find yourself at. what the hell was happening??? it hasn’t even been five minutes and this woman has made you go through the 3 of the however amount of stages of grief already.

“here” a cute, raspy voice said from behind you. feeling a small few tugs on your pant sleeve, you accept the water bottle from grim, immediately chugging it to combat the new heat you found yourself in.

“oh what an adorable cat you have there, i’ve heard all about ‘grim the great’ as well” she leaned down to pet his head. normally- normally grim would snap his teeth at an unwelcome touch… and yet- grim seemed to welcome it no, enjoy it was his ever so famous grin exposed more teeth than you’ve ever seen.

“nya-ah!! see! i told you everyone loves grim the great!” picking up the boasting cat, you could only roll your eyes as you adjusted him in your grip.

“geez grim, go to town on the tuna last night? i swear you weren’t this heavy yesterday” you groaned, trying to fix him with your knee.

huffing, grim crossed his arms and refused to look at you or acknowledge your struggling. “hmph! a henchman should always be able to carry their master! you’re just weak!!” “am not”

“allow me to try” a voice interjected.

you wanted to smack yourself in the face for forgetting someone- let alone trey’s mother was here and a witness to your usual shenanigans with your partner in crime.

“are you sure?” you look at his squishy tummy as you offer her a coy smile“he’s quite heavy”

“pshh- nonsense! i’m a baker! we’re used to carrying all sorts of things. we’re quite strong so to say.” she takes him from your grasp easily. and with the same easiness, she put him in a comfortable baby position where his legs were around his waist, arms around her neck, and his neck over her shoulder.

“there! easy peasy lemon squeezy!” you could hear from sigh in content, his forked tailed swooshing happily.

“remind me not to get in an arm wrestling match with you anytime soon” you mused, looking around nervously as the woman wouldn’t stop staring at you.

laughing softly, she shook her head “it’s not me you should be worried about-“

“mom?!”

kill me now. kill me now. kill me now.

“speak of the devil and he shall come! trey baby how are you! i thought you were with your father and your younger siblings”

trey made his way up to your little group from behind you, stopping only when he turned the line into a triangle.

“y-y/n! i’m sorry if my mom said anything weird”

waving him with a woobly smile, you jerked your head towards his mom. “she’s actually been a great help with keeping this one outta my hair” trey looked at the furry sack in his mother’s arms and only sighed.

“mom-“

“now now trey, let the ladies talk in peace okay!”

you swore you could see a grey hair manifesting as he sighed. “mom y/n is super busy and has to get back to work, let me introduce you to my science club teacher okay?”

quick and straight to the point, trey clover as usual had an agenda and that was to get his mom away from you before she said anything too revealing.

huffing, the woman pet grim once more before giving him over to you. but before that, she made sure to fix the cat monster’s position to where he was resting on your hip. with a proud smile she stepped back and looked at the two of you.

“look at you!! a natural!” she clapped, eyeing her son next to you for a moment before she bid you farewell. (not without a few comments herself )

there was a beat of silence before he sighed again. rubbing the nape of his neck he adverted his eyes bashfully. “i’m sorry about her, she’s a bit…”

“bubbly?”

“ambitious, that too- but definitely ambitious. she’s head of marketing for our family bakery for a reason”

“no shit” you gapped, watching the short haired woman vanish in the crowd. still nodding, albeit awkwardly this time, you adjusted your grip on the heavy cat. “he’s like a fat toddler” you joked, wanting a small chuckle from your senior.

“yeah… you’re definitely right about that”

“trey! honey! i forgot to give your friend her treat!”

like a panther, she jumped out from the sea of swarming families with a purpose.

“oh my sevens ” he breathed, rubbing his creasing brows. smiling up at him, you made a comment about it just being a treat.

“because of my son’s dorm” she started once she was within ear shot “i wanted to make his friends a little something something”

“now i see where you get your baking prowess from” you elbowed him, but he was too busy keeping his flushed face in the palm of his hands to respond.

“here you go~” she cooed “it’s a chocolate lollipop! in the shape of a heart! cute right! trey made it himself!”

“that’s cause i thought they were for an-“

ignoring her son, she started explaining the wrapped sweet to you. “oh yeah it’s definitely one of his best works!”

“really?” you mused, looking up at him “even better than your tiramisu?” he shrugged, still ostrich-info in his pile of sand (his hands).

“even better~ now c’mon trey! we have to find maddie, she’s wondered off again”

“again?” his head popped out as his glasses were a bit crooked, being a friendly neighbor, you did the only natural thing.

“uh trey” you pointed at your own face once you made eye contact “your glasses are a bit crooked”

cursing silently, he fixed him with a quick thank you before he rushed off in whatever direction his mom had come from.

and finally, with a big thumbs up and a toothy, shiny smile, she left to follow her son.

[luffysprincess]

LIE DETECTOR TEST : BACHIRA MEGURU

⊹ summary : the blue lock boys are invited to take a lie detector test, but they’ve got to answer twitter’s unfiltered questions

⊹ pairing : bachira meguru x reader (established relationship)

⊹ wc : 640

⊹ warnings : fem!reader with she/her pronouns, reader is referred to as a “wife”, suggestive/nsfw. MINORS DNI

⊹ a/n : i recommend reading isagi’s version first for more context and a hugee thank you to @nymphsdomain for finding the link to a rb and to aali <3 (@tteokdoroki ) for reblogging this and isagi’s parts in the first place bc shes the reason these could even be found again!! 

⊹ isagi’s version I kunigami’s version

Isagi could only huff out as he tucked his phone back into his pockets. He should’ve expected this honestly, considering he’s known the man for years now.

It’s been quite some time since Bachira’s been hooked up to the machine. Only a few minutes were spent calibrating it with some straightforward questions, but since then, he’s gone into full, honest detail to every question Twitter had for him. And it had every person in the room looking at him with either pure shock and/or amusement.

“…and that’s when I had her squirting all over the back of the team’s bus”

Kunigami spit out his water, and Isagi’s eyes grew wider than ever before as they both turned to him.

“What?! When did this happen?!”

Bachira chuckled at their reaction, “Last match ♡”

“Milo?”

“No lies so far,” Milo laughed.

“Wait…don’t Rin and Barou always sit in the back…“

“Yup” Bachira answered proudly.

“Oh my god. They’re gonna kill you when they watch this.”

“That’s if they watch it. Which they won’t.”

“Alright next question! Twitter user @/bachirasbitch asks What’s your wildest sexual fantasy and why does it include me?”

Kunigami whistles, “Your fans are just as shameless as you”.

“They’re right though. It does include them. And the rest of my fans too.” Bachira chuckles at the looks he’s getting from his teammates before continuing, “I’ve always wanted an audience for what me and Y/N do behind closed doors. I think it’d be pretty exciting knowing someone’s watching me pleasure my wife.”

“You should make an only fans account then,” the interviewer suggests. “Your fans would probably love that.”

“Now who says I don’t already have one,” he winks back.

“Well do you?”

“I don’t have to answer that. I’m here to answer Twitter, not you” he grins.

“Fair enough,” the man sighs. “Let’s see, we’ve got time for one more question for you. @/bluelickmyclit asks What’s the most awkward thing that’s ever happened between you and one of your teammates?”

“Ooh I like this question.”

“I don’t” chimed Isagi.

“So before my wife and I moved into our apartment, we used to be next door neighbors with Yoichi. The way the floor plan was had us sharing a wall between our bedrooms. I know, silly design. Now this happened quite some time ago; before I got married, and back when this guy—” he points his thumb over to Isagi who’s hiding his face in his hands “—was single. I don’t know if I’d call this the most awkward incident but it was pretty awkward, ‘cause there wasn’t a single night we went to sleep without hearing him moan out Y/N’s name. And I mean every night—“

“Ok!” Isagi interrupted, cheeks and ears tinted pink. “I think they get it”

“I don’t know why it took him so long to realize the walls were paper thin. Y/N and I aren’t exactly the quietest people out there. He had to have heard us every night too— ow” Isagi cut him off with a punch to the arm, sick of his teasing which only furthered Bachira’s amusement.

“I hope you know Y/N found it very flattering”

“Shut up and take the cuffs off.”

“She thinks it was cute”

“Kunigami, hurry up and connect to the machine.”

“I’m rather enjoying this, actually. How often was this happening again?”

“Every night” Bachira and Kunigami continue to tease Isagi, laughing at him as he attempts to unhook one teammate and attach the sensors to the other instead.

Bachira had never had so much fun in an interview before. He couldn’t wait to go home and tell you all about it and then watch it with you when it aired. But for now, he’d enjoy messing with his friends like this. And now that Kunigami was up next, he was looking forward to it even more.

[acotarxreader]

Papertrail

Azriel X Reader

Synopsis: For months Azriel had gotten to know you through the intelligence letters you penned from the Autumn Court but finally meeting reveals your twisted reality.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, descriptions of injury as a result of domestic violence.

A/N: I hope you guys like this fic, I enjoyed writing it despite the nature of the beast. Please proceed with caution or not at all if you believe the themes in this lil guy to be upsetting.

P.S this got equal votes with the silly one in the poll but I'm listening to Evermore rn so ye're getting the angsty one hehe

------------------------------------------------

Azriel’s grin dashed across his face like a Cheshire cat as he tried and failed to tuck it away in the presence of his friends. He read through the words over and over again, a lighthearted quiet laugh leaving him. 

“What do you have there Az?”

“Nothing” he replied too quickly to Mor thrown across the sofa of the Town House, her eyebrow raising as he began to carefully fold it back away. 

“They’re his love letters” Cassian cooed from the hallway, shaking off his jacket as the Spymaster tried to do the same to the maroon growing in his cheeks. 

“Leave it Cass” the letter found safety within Azriel's jacket pocket again, usually these would be disposed of after reading but Azriel knew he’d need the comfort of your words again after this trip. 

“I think it's cute”

“It's not cute Feyre, it's intel” 

“Intel? Is that what you single people call it these days” Cassian smirked, finding his place next to Nesta on the couch, arm thrown over the back of the seat behind her. Azriel fought the way the word single made his heart twinge even if it was said in jest.

“It's none of your business is what it is, where's Rhys, we'll be late” Azriel tried his best to change the topic but it became like a cat playing with a mouse.

“You should see him when they arrive Mor, he blushes so much you'd swear he was from Dawn” 

“I do not blush!” A playful couch cushion met Cassian's laughing face, the group joining in, a smile escaped Azriel to his own annoyance.

“Tell us Az, do you have as much correspondence with your other insiders?”

“Yes”

“Liar” Mor laughed, the sound of Rhysand landing in the garden echoing through the joyous house. 

“You write her more than anyone, your face betrays you when you're writing”

“It does n-”

“Who’s face betrays them?” Rhysand flexed his wings gently after the long flight before planting a kiss on the top of Feyre's head and joining his family gathered in the living room. The group looked in unison towards Azriel, all grinning widely. 

“Ah, Az’ little love affair”

“It's not a love affair! I've never even met her, she writes me intel and I writ-”

“-That you love her on bathroom stall doors” The group laughed at Mor's quip as the group stood to leave Velaris for another laborious visit to the Autumn Court. 

“I don’t-I don’t love her”

“Sur Az, maybe try telling your face that” Cassian called back to him as he draped his coat across his broad shoulders once again. 

—------

The meeting with the Autumn Court had its usual turbulence but thanks to the information you had provided, no major surprises were brought before the Inner Circle. Azriel watched from his usual perch in the corner of the meeting room, Rhysand and Beron engaged in their typical vitriol. The Spymaster's gaze landed on Beron’s particularly brutish General as he stood to the side of his High Lord. 

“Kelvin, show our dear guests their way out, we've reached an impasse” Beron bit out to the tower of a male who stood obligingly, the negotiations reaching their usual stalemate. 

“Your High Lord seemed especially prepared for this meeting, Shadowsinger” Kelvin whispered to Azriel as the group made their way to the exit of Forest House. 

“That’s his job”

“Even still, interesting how there seemed to be a prepared argument for every notion that was put before him, I would hate to hear that people aren’t playing by the rules” Azriel didn’t let any part of the thinly veiled threat rattle him, only a scoff left him, brushing off the accusation. 

The group ducked out into the Summer air through a large door they were directed to, Kelvin stopping Azriel to continue their conversation just before the threshold. Azriels hand went into his trouser pocket in a practised nonchalant movement, his jacket draping over his scarred hand. A shadow leapt to the ground of the now empty hallway before Azriel even noticed, his beloved slip of paper meeting the ground with softness. Kelvin was quicker to retrieve than the shadows were to conceal, a rookie mistake Azriel cursed himself for mentally. 

“Hmm, your correspondence Shadowsinger” The paper sat slotted between the General's first and middle finger towards Azriel, he moved to take it back, much too quickly, it being pulled back from his grasp again.

“Hm, eager to retrieve?”

“It’s nothing” Azriel lied through his teeth, wondering how much damage to diplomacy would be caused by slaughtering Kelvin where he stood. Kelvin splayed his two fingers slightly, pulling the folded paper apart to reveal a small sliver of your penmanship, his face hardening instantly as a shadow shot to snatch the paper back. Azriel was just glad that that particular letter had been personal and not vital intel, no major security threat in its exposure could be achieved. 

“Right well, enjoy your night” Kelvin's abrupt, frosty end to the conversation was not lost on Azriel as he watched the giant male seemingly stomp down the stone corridor. 

“C’mon Az, it's time to go” Cassian's voice tore Azriels eyes from Kelvin's back.

-

Further meetings between the Courts were relatively uneventful, Kelvin kept his distance from the group and made himself unavailable for meetings with any of the inner circle. Azriel had contacted all the Autumn Court spies he had to ensure they stayed on alert, all had replied except for you. Every night Azriel would wait for the note he’d sent down the line to you to reappear, but it never did. After a month of radio silence, Azriel had become increasingly irritable and restless in his work, had even tried to contact the Fae who had initially put you in touch, but nothing came of that lead. He paced his small living quarters in the residence the Night Court used in the Autumn Court, unable to take his mind away from the imaginary scenarios in his head. 

“Az, you’re going to put a hole in the floor” Cassian stepped squarely into his brother's path, his arms catching hold of the paling Illyrian's shoulders. 

“We have to get downstairs, the ball is starting and if you’re not there, Beron will think you’re off snooping and get spooked” Azriel shook his head in agreement to the logic, moving from Cassian's grasp to fix his suit jacket. 

The two entered the already bustling ballroom with the coordinated power that comes with centuries of familiarity. The Autumn Court guests meshed in with the Court of Nightmares guests Rhysand had invited, this attempt at building bridges seeming to work, as long as the alcohol was freely flowing. 

An hour or so later, Azriel had managed to escape a particularly persistent fae in favour of a darkened corner of the space. His eyes traced over the various members of the gathering, all deeply swirled in an alcohol-induced truce. He watched the tower he knew to be Kelvin tip his head back in laughter at some comment one of his lackeys had made. His gaze was pulled back to the General with the sudden appearance of a much smaller fae at his side, a smile that didn’t meet her eyes gracing her face. Azriel’s shadows instinctively shot with quiet excellence to wrap softly around your ankles beneath your dress. You cautiously tore your attention from the conversation, locking eyes with the Spymaster across the dance floor. The colour drained from your face and almost as quickly reappeared, you just gave the smallest of nods towards the Illyrian. Azriel’s thoughts went wild at the sight of you, feeling every cell in his body confirm to him that you were who he’d spent all his time thinking about these days. He moved a step forward in your direction, your head ever so slightly shaking no to the movement. Azriel felt his nerves scream at him to walk towards you, fighting some level of primal instinct as he stayed fixed on the spot. 

“Drink Shadowsinger?” Eris’ voice caused his head to snap in the direction of the source. 

“Not poisoned is it?” Azriel took the flute of shimmering gold, some of his shadows returning to glass, swirling around it before confirming to him it was safe. 

“One day you’ll trust me”

“Maybe it’ll be the day you keel over and die” Eris laughed at the sarcasm before noticing Azriel’s eyes land back on you. 

“Ah, YN” Azriel’s head darted back to the eldest son of Autumn, his somewhat amused words confirming your identity to what his instincts had already told him. The female he had spent months learning so much about but never dreamed of meeting was stood in the flesh mere metres away and you seemed to want to keep it that way. 

“You know her?”

“In a social sense, she is Kelvin’s wife-” he took a deep drink from his glass, seemingly drowning a comment in the liquid. Wife. You were married. Azriel fought to keep upright, you had never mentioned anything about being involved with anyone, how could you be married to someone else, you both had shared such love through your correspondence, all for it to be a lie, Azriel thought. It became clear then how you had such unbridled access to the workings and plans of the Autumn Court, that you were married to the male who made them. 

“-She hasn’t been around much lately-” Eris continued “-she tends to avoid these kinds of gatherings, he must have let her out to play”

“Let her?” Eris necked the remainder of his drink, depositing the glassware on the tray of a passing server. 

“This isn’t the Night Court Shadowsinger, Kelvin belongs to a very relic-like line of thought, she belongs to him, he controls the reins and she has to go along for the ride. He probably has something to gain from her presence here” Azriel’s heat boiled in his veins, threatening to come out as steam from his ears. Eris rolled his eyes at Azriel’s silence, growing bored of the interaction and heading to find someone else to play with.

You stood at the edge of the circle of large males, seemingly enjoying the conversation alongside your husband. Azriel noticed the way your long dress clung to your bones, sleeves as long as your arms with a neckline that practically touched your ears, an odd choice for the Summer, even in the Autumn Court Azriel thought. You dipped your head slightly as Azriel watched you make your exit from the group, Kelvin’s eyes heating your back until you entered an adjacent hallway. Before Kelvin would notice, Azriel dissolved into the shadowy corner, his shadows eager to reunite with you. 

“Just a moment” you called back to the soft tapping on the bathroom door. You supported your weight on the counter of the sink, glaring into your own reflection as you tilted your head side to side to inspect the coverage of the make-up you had applied over any traces of betrayal. Your attention was taken from the mirror as a shadow slipped beneath the entrance, you watched it approach you with such gentle caution until you moved to unlock the door with a shaking hand. Hazel eyes looked deeply into yours, afraid to blink in case it was all a dream. 

“Hello stranger” You couldn’t find a reply to him, only reaching for his shirt and hauling him into the bathroom. 

“Are you fucking crazy?! Did anyone see you!?” You rattled out, pacing up and down the small space, Azriels shadows wrapping around you. You looked down at them with a loving smile, a sense of familiarity between you and them.

“No, no one saw me, I-I can’t believe you’re here and…and you’re married!” you stopped dead in your tracks at Azriel’s slightly raised tone. You dragged a hand down your face, trying to pull some control back to the tiled space. 

“I-I didn’t think it was relevant”

“Not relevant!?” Azriel rasped out, his hands partially flailing out in exasperation, and your eyes clung to their movement. 

“It-its a need-to-know basis”

“I would think I would be a part of that, fuck it we told each other practically everything else about one another!” His volume grew moderately, heat rising at the back of your neck.

“Don’t be mad at me Azriel, please” A shiver shot down his spine at the sound of his name on your lips, any semblance of annoyance fleeing the scene. 

“I’m not, I’m just glad that you’re okay, the radio silence frightened me” he closed the distance between you, the smell of mist and mint flowing around you as his hands laced into yours. 

“Azriel, I’m-I’m married”

“Happily?” he laughed out, it dying in the air with your lack of reply, worry starting to transverse his face.

“YN?”

“I-”

“YN!” Kelvin’s voice accompanied by heavy pounding against the solid oak door, your whole body flinching at the interruption. 

“Coming!” you called back, the rattle in your voice cutting into Azriel’s ears, your hands pulled from his soft hold. 

“Azriel please go”

“YN, I don’t like this” his hushed tone matching yours, Kelvin's footsteps haunting the hallway. 

“Azriel, please just go”

“I’ll go if you promise to meet me later”

“Azriel”

“YN! Come on!” the pounding on the door returning, the handle vibrating much like your bones. 

“Fine, fine, I promise, go” you rushed over to the door, your hand landing on the handle tremulously and after whispering where to meet you later, Azriel reluctantly dissolved into shadow once again. 

-

Azriel reentered the party like a bull in a china shop, unable to refocus after your encounter, he waited for you and your husband to reappear, but you didn’t, the party swirling around him. He counted the minutes down until the party had come to a natural stopping point and he could escape to meet you in the wooded area behind your house, allowing conversations to ebb and flow around him. 

Finally, he could make his excuses to head to bed, spending all of a minute changing into his training clothing for easier agility. He snuck through the shadows of Forest House as though made of their atoms, moving with precision through passageways until he found his way to the city, slinking through the dwindling crowd with ease. 

Azriel waited in the wooded area for nearly an hour, his shadows casing the vast forest for your presence with nothing to show for it. He decided to take things into his own hands as the depths of nights swaddled him. He moved closer to the two-storey property, the glow of the kitchen light filling the small patio beneath a colossal oak tree.

Azriel could make out the outline of Kelvin and a few others from the party, clearly having decided to continue the revelry in his home. Music flowed out through the opened window, his shadows sneaking through the cracks to scope out the ground floor, returning to Azriel with no knowledge of your presence in the private party. Azriels eyes landed on the flicker of a candle from the upstairs of the property, his shadows beginning to leap around him. Scaling the large tree was an easy feat for the skilled Illyrian and soon he was level to the window. 

The blood drained entirely from the Shadowsingers face at the scene through the window. You sat in a ball, knees split open and huddled into your chest, the dress that shielded you earlier now in tatters around your ankles leaving the cruel water colouring decorating your body on full display. The beautiful colours of Autumn coated your flesh in their brutality as crimson flowed from a gash, tinging your hair. 

Downstairs Azriel could hear booming laughter from the group, fresh new thoughts of slaughter entering his mind.  A shadow faintly tipped against the window, the sound rocketing through every cell of your body as you jolted with the fright. Your tear-stained eyes landed on the Night Court’s Spymaster who clung to the trunk of the tree outside your chamber. Your tremoring muscles lifted you from the splitting wood, over a shattered lamp covered in your blood. You delicately pushed into the hinges of the window until it gave in under your weak strength, the Summer air rushing in to meet you. Azriel skirted across the limb of the tree to slip into the space, your eyes fixated on the wood as he landed nimbly. 

“Y-YN?” he approached you like a wild deer stuck in a bear trap, afraid speed would cause you to bolt and lead to further injury.

“I-I’m so-rry I didn’t-didn’t come meet y-you” you managed through your quivering throat, the taste of blood and bile poisoning the words. Azriel gave you a small hush, his shadows surveying every stretch of your skin they could.

“We need to get you out of here” he spoke so quietly you almost missed it in the drumming of your ears.

“I-I can’t go with you”

“YN, theres-theres so much blood in your hair” his hand calmly raised to brush the maroon matting away from your face, the source at the crown of your head gleaming in the moonlight. 

“He-I shouldn’t have been so-so long away from him ear-earlier” You fought every urge to lean into Azriel’s touch, an unfamiliar sense of trust towards a male's hand growing in you. 

“Fuck that” Was all Azriel could think to say, moving quickly and quietly away from you again. His shadows wrapped around you to support you as you stood watching the fleet-footed Illyrian grab some things from around the room, the sound of the brutish males merrymaking downstairs covering his movements. 

“Azriel”

“YN, you’re coming with me” some of his shadows returned to his ears in almost an excited fashion.

“Good idea” he replied to them as they darted out the window again, your heartbroken eyes began to swell with tears of pain and anguish.

“Will you be warm enough in this?” He pulled a thick coat from the splintering wardrobe, Azriel getting the feeling it had been a heavy feature of your battlefield, wishing the thought away.

“Azriel, I-I can’t go, I’m his”

“No-” he turned to face you as he spoke, seriousness coating the entire word as he held out the coat to you again “-You belong to no one other than yourself YN”

“Azriel, that’s not how that-that works here”

“Well it is now” He sheathed your mottled skin, the thick fabric, its weight causing your exhausted legs to buckle slightly, Azriel’s arm instinctively wrapping around your chest to support you from the side. You sucked air sharply through your teeth, Azriel releasing you again.

“Sorry YN, I didn’t mean to hurt you” his eyes searched yours frantically as you folded your arms across yourself, your hand tracing the growing deep magenta along your ribcage.

“It's ok-okay Azriel” he turned back to the small satchel he had begun to fill, slipping it over his shoulders. He moved back to the climb to the reach of the tree, arm outstretched inviting you to take hold of him. 

“Azriel” 

“YN, either you come with me or we both stay” his soft but firm voice had you rocking from foot to foot trying to decide what to do, caught between your potential future and your definitive present.

You looked towards the destroyed room in front of you and back again at the Illyrian offering you the answer to your prayers. You exhaled as deep as your chest would allow you to, moving closer to the window, the sound of crunching ceramic beneath your feet the only sound in the room. The only sound in the room. The only sound in the room. 

The door swung screeching on its rusting hinges as the General of the Autumn Court crashed into the room in a drunk swirl of rage, amplified by the sight of his wife’s rescue. Azriel leapt from his perch to block you as a blood-curdling scream left you, instinctively hitting the ground for cover. Before Kelvin could reach for you, Truth-Teller found its home in the thigh of the male, his blood springing free from his network of vessels, reaching and mixing with your own on the floor. The giant hit the flooring with an almost deafening thud, writhing in pain, alcohol stealing any chance of a coordinated retaliation. Azriel retrieved the knife, hovering over his new greatest enemy. 

“You will suffer a thousand deaths for this, but not right now, not when it would be merciful” Venom dripped from his bone-chilling tone, a cadence you knew would never be directed at you. Shadows once again filled the room, scraps of paper in their grasp covered the space as Azriel crossed back towards you, pulling you back to your feet and into his arms. Swarms of multiplying shadow cascaded and concealed you both until they dissolved, leaving the two of you in the warmth of a small living area. 

“Now, home again” Azriel breathed out in relief, you found a small smile grow, mirroring his ease as he pulled you to his side and over to a plush loveseat. 

“Azriel I-I can’t believe what-what just happened”

“And I can’t believe I had enough restraint not to murder him where he stood, but Rhysand hates paperwork and besides, I have bigger plans for him” Shadows nipped the side of his shoulder playfully as he retrieved a cup of floral tea from the kitchenette in his small studio apartment.

“Fine, we have plans for him, so praise starved my little friends. Go fetch Madja for me sweeties” he played back to them as they darted off happily. 

“And what exactly have you all planned?”

“Well, Beron is suspicious the Court has a leak and with some careful…editing, now he’ll find his leak” he passed the cup down to you, covering your legs in a throw blanket.

“You had the shadows plant letters in the house for Beron to find?”

“Well, in the morning we’ll send Eris word that you found the letters and he attacked you for trying to tell the truth” he slotted into the seat next to you, a damp cloth in hand to run along your tangled hair, freeing up the clumps of blood. 

“And when they ask why I’m here?”

“Eris will award you with an emissary to the Night Court position, so loyal to the Autumn Court, the perfect fae to keep an eye on us” You found a slight laugh leave you, the sound bringing a grin to Azriel’s face. The sound of light tapping on the front door accompanied by Azriels returning shadows signalled Madjas arrival.

—-------------------

You awoke the next morning to the plush fabric of Azriel’s king size bed, the fabric swaddling your freshly stitched skin. You reluctantly opened your eyes, afraid you had dreamed the past twenty-four hours as you forced yourself upright in the bed. You looked around the cosy well-loved space, hints of Azriel everywhere, except for the Illyrian himself. He had left his makeshift bed on his couch early in the morning, eager to begin his ruse. 

You crossed the room to the small kitchenette on your world-weary legs, a tray sat gleaming on the counter with fresh scones and the fixings to make the floral tea you loved last night. A smile grew as you heated water on the stove for the tea. 

While the water rolled to a boil, you wandered around the space, taking in the world that Azriel had let you into in his letters, still in disbelief, that this had all happened. Your hand crossed over the bag on his desk, the random assortment of wares Azriel had packed making you laugh slightly. The water hissing as it boiled over the rim of the saucepan had you rushing over to it, bumping into a tall tower of boxes as you reached for the stove. You jumped at the sound of crashing files from behind you, scrunching your face before reluctantly turning to the mess you had made. You cursed aloud, kneeling to collect the reams of paper as Azriel knocked before entering his own home. 

“Hey YN, all don- what’s going on here?” He laughed before panic started to dash across his face, rushing to conceal the content of the parchments. 

“Azriel…are these….are these my notes to you?” you held a small collection in your hands, Azriel reaching to snatch them from you in a protective manner.

“Don’t…don’t tell Rhys I’ve kept them” he said with almost shame, crouched across from you as he carefully folded the paper. 

“Wh-why did you keep them?”

“Because they’re you YN” he looked from the penmanship to the female who gifted him the words that kept him company for months. You leaned off the backs of your legs to reach across the piles of history between you both until you met Azriel’s mouth with yours. He leaned further into the kiss, the two of you still kneeling in the nest of paper. His hands traced gently across your waist as yours wrapped around his shoulders, your inner gravities pulling one another together with tender force. Scarred hands ran up the length of your back, meeting equal chasms and fissures, both of your marred stretches of skin feeling whole again. The feelings of true safety and security flowed between you both coupled with the energy of shadow and fire finding home in one another. It felt as time no longer existed, never-ending and final, like nothing beyond the pools of paper mattered. You separated as the need for air sailed towards critical, your hands slid down his chest as his slipped around the nape of your neck, you both leaning in to rest your foreheads together, careful to not reopen your wound. 

“YN, you’re my…”

“Mate” your glowing soft eyes landed on his smiling hazel as they seemingly sparkled. 

“I was going to say my everything but I believe those are both the same from here on in”  

-------------------------------------------------------------

Whatcha think friends??

The lovelies: @milswrites @sarawritestories

[henneseyhoe]

Just One More. | 2

Lewis Hamilton x BLACK!FEM!Reader

WARNINGS: short, no smut! (surprisingly), just fluffy shit for father’s day <44 😘

SUMMARY: Congratulations! You had the twins! time to deal with lewis and his new dad antics (again), but first, here’s two cute moments.

|1|2|3|4|

✮✮✮✮

“You happy now?”

You stare at your husband through tired and teary eyes, watching him cradle your daughter in his arms. You had just gone through twenty hours of labor, spending half of those hours at home and in pain and the other half in the hospital. When you got there you could barely walk, every contraction you felt striking your belly and back which made your knees weak. You swore hours earlier it was just braxton hicks, but your twins soon proved you wrong. Very, very wrong.

When you heard both their cries erupt in the room, you smiled in victory as you were finally done with the most crucial part.

“You did so good, love”

Lewis praised you with stray tears he could no longer hold in trailing down his cheeks, a sweet kiss being placed on your forehead before he did the same to the twins. The boy who was born first, with no surprise, looked exactly like Lewis. He was a spitting imagine of your other set of twins when they were babies, but that daughter of yours? All you. Exactly three minutes apart, when she arrived the nurses were starting to wonder if Lewis was in the room at all when she was conceived.

You looked at the two newborns, just as proud of your work as god himself was.

“You know, I was gonna lose it if she was a boy” You spoke while gently brushing your fingers through your son’s soft hair. Lewis chuckles and lays besides you in the hospital bed, his eyes switching attention from baby to baby, but never letting go of his babygirl. You smile and let him have his moment. You knew the hogging was mostly because of him being in shock that he actually got his girl, He’d be all over your son also come morning time.

“I’m in awe how much she looks like you. Usually they don’t look like anyone right away but wow…she’s all you, Y/N” Lewis expresses, a finger caressing her blushed cheek. You just nod in agreement, laughing at how her hair stuck up in the front like spikes while everything else laid down. Lewis was too busy gushing over both of them to point out how silly either of them looked.

✮✮✮✮

When you two took the babies home, it was hard to keep the twins away from them. Your boys were there peeking over your shoulder at every feeding, every burping, every changing, even every bath. They had started to ask when they’d be big enough to play with, a toy in both of their hands as they waited for your answer. Before you could speak, Lewis was already speaking, serving them with the facts while simultaneously burping the baby in his arms.

“They won’t be able to play with you two for a while. They’re too small right now and they don’t do much but sleep and eat”

Your boys pouted, one rolling his eyes back dramatically. “Well, that’s boring! They’re boring!” Silas, the older one huffed, sitting on the coffee table in front of you. Both you and Lewis cackled, but the boys found nothing funny. “Yes, babies are boring for the first few months”

“Why’d you go and get two more then?” Silas’s face scrunched as he asked and you tried helplessly not to laugh so loud at the poor baby that the infant in your arms would jump out of her sleep.

“Yeah, Lewis…Why did we ‘get’ two more?” Egging it on, you look back at your husband for another answer, your face riddled with amusement as he completely curves the question. “Any questions other than that? Saint?”

“So they can’t throw a ball? or catch it?” Saint inquired as he went back to the previous topic, sitting next to his brother. You shake your head ‘no’ and they both sigh.

“And they can’t talk either?” Silas asks, earning another laugh from you and Lewis. You two thought the constant questions would stop at three, but your boys were a curious pair. You’d only hope the next set were a bit more tame but with how the universe humbled you the last time...

“If you hear them talking before they hit nine months then please inform daddy so he can call Guinness world records”

✮✮✮✮

💌: again, superior trope, dad!lewis for the win, muah!💋

[kneelingshadowsalome]

FATUM NOS IUNGEBIT 2/4

König x F!Reader

Summary: You have seen him in your dreams. The seer has divined his coming. But nothing has prepared you for witnessing him in the flesh. (Historical AU where König fights for the Roman Empire in an auxiliary unit, finds a cute barbarian woman and decides to keep her as his own.) Part 1 here. Word count: 5.1 k Tags/warnings: 18+ ONLY. Spoils of war/enemies to lovers trope, graphic depictions of violence, historical gruesomeness, pining, odd banter, mixed feelings, romantic fluff, dubcon cuddling, eventual smut. Captor/captive dynamic. König is a brutal warrior... and a gentle giant. A/N: Part two! I don't usually rec music for my fics but if this fic was a song, it would be Dead can Dance’s In Power we Entrust the Love Advocated.

You wake up with a giant plastered on your back.

His bed is far more comfortable than your own, soft and cushy, and there must be flowers somewhere in the hay because there is a surprisingly pleasant odour lingering in the air as you come to. The mattress overall doesn’t reek of too much sweat: some poor slave must change the fillings often enough for König’s stench not to settle on the bed. Actually, you’ve slept quite nicely, despite being embraced by an ogre the whole night.

König has slept like a stone, too, but stirs when you start to shift. You turn on your back and find his drowsy stare on you: it’s generous and warm as he pulls you closer to him. You could roll your eyes when you notice he’s hard down there again – he’s probably hard all the time, whether in bed with a woman or raging on the battlefield, sticking his swords into some poor man’s gut.

“Gut geschlafen?” He asks, and you reckon he’s trying to ask if you’ve slept well – in his domain, in his embrace, after he just slaughtered half of your village.

You give him another pout, which is starting to become your signature expression now. He replies to your grumpiness with a smile, his own trademark move, the one that threatens to strip you from all your arms. He squeezes you fondly against his chest, and then his hand starts to wander: he plays with your tits again, then slinks further down to brush your navel. When he crosses the border and heads straight toward your womanhood, you seize his arm.

He whines softly at your refusal, but to your surprise, he actually stops. You let him go as he moves back up and stay immobile under his touch, amidst the flowery scent and the faint stench of dirt and man sweat, sighing as he cups your breast again. He doesn’t seem to get enough of them, and they’re beginning to feel sore: he gave them so much attention last night already and is now at them again.

You pull his hand away, but this time, he doesn’t respect your wishes but resists you. Trying to hinder a man who’s as strong as a bull is futile, but you have an attempt at it anyway. It turns into a play fight: you wrench his hand down, he drags it back up. Up and down and up and down, as if your breast is a hill he needs to conquer at all costs. But he’s the only one who finds any amusement in your silly game: eyes narrowing again with a smile, a few soft chuckles under that hood telling you he enjoys it when you fight him a little.

It all ends when you finally slap him.

It’s neither a good nor a hard slap, and his mask muffles whatever sound was supposed to give you at least some measure of satisfaction. 

But he stops... And laughs.

“Ja, ich weiß. Ich habe deine Leute getötet. Ich verdiene eine Ohrfeige.”

His language is harsh and throaty, abrupt, and you tell him that, safe with the knowledge that he can’t understand a word you say either.

“You talk ugly,” you complain and watch him up and down, searching for a clue that would tell you that he somehow understands your insult. König simply thunders with another mirthful laugh at your morning crank.

“Es ist schön, mit dir zu reden. Aber jetzt muss ich weg.”

He looks down at you like he’s the Sun God now, thoroughly life-giving and kind. Then he dares to bend forward and press a kiss on your forehead.

“Go away,” you try to push him back with your hands - the hood prevents you from feeling his skin and breath and lips, but the… intimacy is still too much.

“Brute,” you want to spit the word out but end up sounding like a child attempting to quarrel instead. And he’s laughing at you again, both with his eyes and his mouth, covered by that darned hood. You don’t know why on earth you would think that such a charming laugh must come from an equally charming mouth.

He finally retreats and rises from the bed, stretching out his arms. The broad muscles on his back are exposed to the frigid air and his cock is jutting out, long and veined, completely unaffected by the cold. This beast is ripe and ready for another day, and you swallow when you see him in his full glory again, tall and wide and strong, looking like he’s about to eat an entire boar and fuck ten women in the process.

“Schön,” he comments as he turns to look down at you, lying naked and sweet there in his bed. He looks at you like you are the most lovely, adorable, difficult little thing. He even gives his horse cock a few good strokes while taking your sleepy little pouts in.

“Ugly,” you slur back, and he winks at you. 

Gods… You’re too hot and riled to even speak.

You choose to vehemently stay in bed as König starts his day: eats some fruit from the table - still naked - pours himself some wine and washes his mouth with it, tears a handful of bread from a loaf and starts to eat with his mouth open, munching loudly under that hood, walking around without bothering to cover himself and that ungodly erection that is bouncing in the air without a care in the world.

You, on the other hand, escape back under the warm covers of the furs, but your eyes never leave König. He draws the draping flap of his tent aside - still naked - giving his soldiers a good view of his morning wood, a lovely chance to get a look at their champion. Perhaps it’s his way of saying good morning, you think bitterly. Then he leaves, probably to take a piss, and you’re more and more convinced that this man is the worst beast that has ever walked this earth.

You’re still under the furs when he returns and finally gives you the grace of clothing himself. It’s stupid that you mourn losing the sight of those shoulders and feel a bit disappointed when his cock disappears under the red tunic. His manhood doesn’t look any less intimidating even when growing soft; it’s still long and veiny and thick, and you find yourself… curious. Just curious.

He doesn’t put his armour on this time, chooses to wear only his tunic and sandals and a pair of hard-boiled leather cuffs to protect the vital veins on the wrists. He does take one Gladius with him, though - a sign of distrust in his own men or a Roman custom, you can’t tell.

He’s already at the mouth of the tent when he turns and points at you, now with a good amount of sternness in his voice.

“Du. Bleibst.”

…

He’s away the whole day. Probably drawing plans at some field war council, eating and drinking and bouncing some poor girl on his knee. 

Even the thought makes your nose wrinkle and your stomach churn. Of course there are other trophies, and of course men want to show them off, pass them around, give their commanders a chance to give each woman a good squeeze. König has probably stuck that cock into a few women by now. Moaning, screaming women. 

Or then he just settles for annoying their poor senses out of them…

You can’t deny that you’re relieved he hasn’t thrown you to the wolves yet, not even after you denied him. Wondering why on earth he would even want to listen to your wishes gives you an awful headache, and the image of him laughing at - or with - some other shy captive girl is making you uncomfortable. So uncomfortable that you throw the skins away after noon, and decide you’re not going to just succumb to your fate, least of all give in to sadness and apathy. 

You eat this and that from his table like you’re not a slave girl but an honoured guest, a queen. You eat his figs and his bread and some smoked meat; you even drink some of his wine, as sour as it is. You’re a bit tipsy when you go through all his belongings, which are not as abundant or exciting as you thought they would be. 

You thought you’d find tiny chests filled with gold coins and rings. You thought you’d come by dried body parts taken as trophies, perhaps the crown of some long-forgotten Hibernian king. But there are only a few trinkets under his bed, a huge bow and some arrows, his armour and the second Gladius, perfectly stored above the ground so that rust and mould wouldn’t bite them. There are jugs of wine and some firewood and oil for the braziers, there’s water and benches and the table and lots and lots of candles in different shapes and sizes… But that’s it. There’s no hoard, no treasure, nothing to prove to you that this brute is just another Roman soldier trying to gather a fortune by raping and pillaging so that he can go and retire early from all the bloodshed.

And it makes you shiver. Does he do this just for the sake of it, only because he enjoys killing so much? What is his reason to fight?

The only item that sends an odd sting in your heart is a small wooden statue. You feel like a thief when you rummage through a small satchel you find next to his breastplate, the only place you didn’t feel like peeking into because it looked so… personal. 

Proving to yourself that you don’t care about his privacy or feelings, you end up pushing your fingers inside it anyway, meeting this peculiar carved piece of wood. There is nothing else there in the satchel, just the statue, and you feel yourself swallow a lump in your throat as you see it depicts a lush, buxom woman. Her breasts are nearly the size of her belly, larger than her head, and you realize that it is clearly the statue of the Great Mother this brute carries with him.

You put it back quickly, feeling a tingling in your fingers and a rapid flutter in your heart, as if you had just poked into something quite sacred. And it is sacred, the Mother. You wonder why, for the love of all the gods, this man would keep such a divine and fertile amulet near him. The statue is supposed to be a vessel for wishes and fortune; it is an idol of worship. König seems like the last man on earth to take up worshipping women.

You just want to get out of this place but can’t. There’s no one to go back to: your chief is dead, the people have fled, the rest of the warriors are scattered across the land. You have no idea where your brother might even be. 

You have no wish to escape this tent; you have no desire whatsoever to step a foot outside and show yourself to his hungry men. 

König comes back after nightfall and is not surprised at all to find you haven’t escaped. He’s not surprised that you have eaten some of his food either; he doesn’t even scold you. But then the eternal groping starts again as he gets undressed and lays himself down next to you.

You don’t even know why you allow him to touch you. Perhaps it’s because you know it’s better to just let him caress you if he wants; it’s better to suffer the weight of his hands on you if it means he won’t rape you with that cock. If you don’t complain, perhaps he will settle for squeezing and petting and stroking you.

But your body is a traitor: it’s hungry for him, for some ungodly reason, and always craves for more. You say to yourself that you only allow this to happen because it’s a condition, a compromise, a meeting in the middle. You never acknowledge the way your nether lips puff up like a fat flower every time he fondles your breasts. You pay no attention to how wet you get when he caresses your face, your waist, even your thighs, every part of you except the place between your legs, the place you kind of want him to touch... If only he would be gentle and didn’t get too excited, you’d let him touch you there, too, as sick and accursed as it is.

And it’s all good until he starts to hum. 

It may be some song from his homeland, the land of ugly brutes, but it’s not a crude giant song… In fact, it’s a rather beautiful, melancholy tune. Your body is relaxed and your pussy is wet; your nipples are tight and pleased as he pets you slowly, lovingly - but that song is too much. You don’t want him to see you cry, not even a single tear, and now there’s an entire flood about to occur.

“Don’t touch me,” you whisper, trying not to choke on your sorrow. He doesn’t stop - of course he doesn’t. He gets bolder by the day, and he can see that you’re enjoying yourself. In a way.

"Magst du es gestreichelt zu werden?" He asks, soft and tender, so incredibly gentle that the tears are about to burst forth at any given moment now.

“Ich glaube das tust du,” he rumbles when you don’t answer him. His hand is heavy and broad on your hip as he finally stops caressing you. You squeeze your eyes shut, and it causes the glimmer in your eyes to fall. Tears roll down your cheeks and into your hair, as you lie there next to a titan, about to shatter into a million pieces.

“Wurdest du schon einmal berührt…?”

You want to shout at him to shut up already, to stop talking so gently, asking you questions you don’t understand, to stop trying to find a way to communicate with you through song and hum and touch. The hand on your hip moves, slowly, with devastating cunning towards your core. He’s about to touch you there, to try and feel if you’re wet... If you’d like it that he pounded you a little. You wonder if he would do that gently too, and almost laugh through your tears. It will be your undoing if he finds out that you’re soaked all the way to your thighs, aching to feel him inside you, even a finger, just something…

“No… Nein,” you rule out sternly, opening a new way of communication. You don’t know if the word is correct, but he catches it immediately and stops. 

“Nein?”

He sounds both happy and sad; happy that you try to use his language, sad that you use it to give him such a disappointing command.

“No touching,” you repeat and open your eyes, finding his hazy figure hovering above you. You barely discern the gulf of sadness in his eyes, but it is there: undisguised, trying to reach out and join with yours. Gods… How strangely appropriate it is that you are both so very alive, wanting to be devoured by each other’s hunger and lust, only to find yourselves on the brink of tears and hollow loss.

“No... No touching…”

“Verstanden.” 

He takes his hand away from you and turns, not even joining you under the fur tonight.

…

The next morning, you wake up attached to him.

Somehow you’ve managed to wriggle under his furs and, on top of that, crawled to hug his side like this. You blame the spring cold for it, of course. Your heart bangs against your ribs as you notice how tightly you’re squeezing him, breasts pressed flush against his hard middle, belly fluttering against his hip. You’ve even draped your leg across his so that your poor, lonely cunt is resting right there over his thigh. 

You swear in your mind with all the words and terms you know and can think of.

How the hell are you supposed to detach from a giant without waking him up? His arm is around you, holding you loosely in a warm, pleasing shackle. He feels so, so good - blazing, big and safe, so incredibly nice. You never knew sleeping next to a man could feel so nice. You’re half asleep still, mainly because his body and scent make you feel like you’ve had too much wine again.

You allow yourself a few more moments before you rip yourself off him. Or at least, try to: the arm snares you the instant you attempt to move. It prevents you from leaving him, and you end up hovering awkwardly there, almost on top of him, tits pointing straight at his face, panicked, doe-eyed stare guided to his unwavering blue eyes, open, and regarding you with warm love.

And the damned man smirks again.

“No touching?” He inquires with silly, completely feigned shyness.

“Shut up,” you breathe and try to get off of him, but his other hand comes to brush your cheek next, and you freeze.

“Schön… Pretty,” he tries, and you nearly whimper at the sound of your native tongue in his mouth. 

Pretty… Is that what the word means, the odd ugly word he has repeated ever since he stole you?

His eyes are warm and his hand is gentle as he caresses your cheek, and the snare around your waist tightens. Softly… Invitingly.

“Stop it,” you whisper, on the brink of tears again, because this time, your shields and armour and weapons are gone. You just woke up to a feeling of odd contentment, fulfilment, even joy. 

And it’s not right. 

He has no right to be this gentle with you.

You sniffle and sigh, and cast your eyes down to the chest that belongs to a giant. But you can’t deny that there must be a heart under there. A human heart under your palm. Your hand is right there over the strong beat because you’ve tried to push yourself away, and he won’t let you go. Another tear falls somewhere in the hair of his chest, and he rumbles with such compassion that you want to slap him again, hit his chest with your tiny little fists and bawl.

What you do instead is break down and let the ocean take you. You cry and sob and wail, right there in front of him, until he turns you on your stomach and comes to rest halfway on top of you. Through your tears, you understand that he’s trying to soothe you with his weight. It’s pure insanity how well it works. It releases a whole well of grief, and you start to shake with the cries; your whole body shudders with the sorrow as you retch it all out while König continues to caress you like a pet. He strokes your hair, pets your back, he even pats your ass as if you’re just a baby.

You cry long and hard, so long that he eventually lets out a long, deep sigh. When you’ve calmed down a bit and remain still, sniffling occasionally while squeezing the furs in your fist, trying to remember what it is to be an animal with feelings other than just sorrow, he leaves you.

He simply rises, and gets dressed, and leaves.

That is very much what you don’t need right now, much to your surprise. He was good at consoling you, as odd as it sounds.

Cold starts to creep in when there is no warm body next to you, and your skin misses the calloused gentleness of his palms. You wouldn’t mind if he wanted to hum that song to you now. But the darned bastard had to leave just when you were about to turn and cup his hooded face in return...

König comes back after a short while, but he’s not alone. You gather the furs against your chest, horrified and angry when you notice he returns to the tent with a short old man, vigorous and busy, but so tiny in stature that you doubt he was ever a warrior. You wonder if this is another foreigner or if you have the dubious pleasure of meeting your first genuine Roman.

They both stare at you, quite nonchalantly, while you sit there on the bed and try to cover your nakedness with animal skins while having red eyes and a pair of uninviting, quivering, puffed-up lips. 

The short fellow looks you up and down, then turns to talk to König in what appears to be this giant’s mother tongue. It’s a curt suggestion, muttered under his breath, and you realize König must’ve fetched a translator for you.

Oh, good Mother... Great Mother.

You watch these two men before you in a state of stunned shock, as König looks at you, then back at the old man, and nods. The Roman looks slightly vexed as if he just got up too. Then he starts to speak.

“Excuse our manners... We are men at war. If you wish to get dressed, we will wait outside.”

You blink at your own language being spoken to you, perfectly discernable but accompanied by a thick accent. You nod, and the men leave, returning only after you’ve dressed and cleared your throat in the tent.

“He asks if he killed your husband,” the translator starts immediately while König goes to sit on his favourite Roman bench. You’re wide awake now, and the nauseating feeling of being suddenly in the middle of an interrogation rises to your throat with a clot.

“He… What? No,” your eyes dart to König, who is looking at you with his undying ardour. For a man with so much sadness in his soul, he’s surprisingly carefree when he wants to.

“Do you have a husband?”

You gulp at the questions levelled at you. König keeps watching you intently, and you choose to look at the old translator instead, shaking your head slowly. The men exchange a few words, and the Roman turns to scold you with his stare.

“Master reminds you that it is wrong to lie,” he says, putting a lot more weight on his words this time. Roman or not, he calls this giant master, which means that he is just another slave in this camp. You swallow again and try to think, think, think; all the while König’s stare strips you of all your pretences, garments and words.

He thinks you’re trying to hide some imaginary husband, you understand and consider whether you should say that you have a husband: if there is any benefit you could gain from such a lie. König would only probably try to hunt him down… But what if he found out you were telling him tales? Would he feed you to his horny war dogs then?

“I’m not lying,” you say through slightly gritted teeth.

There is another exchange of words before the translator turns to you again.

“Are you untouched?”

“What…?”

“Master asks if you are a virgin.”

The translator is utterly unfazed, and mainly looks like he has better things to do than get to the bottom of whether there has been a cock inside you yet.

“That’s none of his business,” you hiss. The old man turns and starts to translate your words with a dull look.

“Wait—don’t tell him that,” you take a panicked step forward. 

Oh good Father in the Sky… Strike these men down so that I may be freed from them.

They pay you no attention; a few sentences pass from mouth to mouth, and the old man nods.

“Master says you are clearly a maiden,” he declares. You peek a glance at König, who is looking at you with hunger, and not the kind of hunger people look at their breakfasts with. Your breathing is getting out of hand, and when he opens his legs wider, clearly making more room for a rising cock, you decide to throw caution in the wind.

“You know what? Your master can go fuck himself with a stick for all I care…!”

The old man turns. He doesn’t even care to sigh; he merely opens his mouth to give your words to König.

“Don’t you dare translate that!” 

Finally, the old man sighs. He looks at the ceiling as if begging his gods to take him away from this tent. König’s stare flashes between you two, and he is evidently curious. Clearly, this is the most exciting conversation he’s ever had.

“Was sagt sie?”

“Tell him that I want to be freed,” you hurry to say before the translator can tell your insults to König. After a brief conversation, König leans forward in his chair to see the effect his words have on you.

“He says he can’t do that,” the Roman informs. “His soldiers will find you and take you.”

You close your mouth and try to even your breaths. No one says, You don’t want that. Everybody in this tent knows you don’t want that.

“He asks if he killed your brother or your father.”

You sniffle, quite involuntarily.

“No. He didn’t.”

“Then why are you angry and sad?”

There is a hint of genuine interest in the man’s voice. Both of these men are confused as to why you would bawl your eyes out after the massacre of your people.

"Because… Because he…"

“He says it is a man’s duty to die in battle. You should be proud of your fallen ones, not cry and feel sorry for them.”

“Tell him that he can go fuck himself,” you shout, not giving a single shit anymore about whether he translates the words or not. 

To no one’s surprise, he does.

“He says he’d rather fuck you,” he returns to you with König’s message.

You can’t bear to look your captor’s way, and still, that’s exactly what you do. You look at the giant as he stares at you, keen and hard and patient. But you know his patience has its limits. It’s almost like a promise, the way he leans forward in that chair and looks at you from under the hood, shameless and challenging.

“Never,” you guide your words to König now. It’s a brave little whisper, but you know that it’s a lie. Even the Great Mother knows you’re lying. You almost hear the cackle of the old woman rising from the earthen ground, from the chthonic depths, to mock you and your vows.

You hear the old man’s words from somewhere far away, from underwater, as König’s stare wrestles you down and takes away your little knife. He subdues you even when he’s sitting, and shares a string of words: a harsh promise. You hold your breath as his cock gives a pulse under that tunic, and your eyes fall, fall, fall onto it, because there’s no escape…

“He says he can make you feel good,” the voice says, and you can’t even hear who speaks. Your mouth is full of water, but you swallow it down, then shoot your way up to the surface, up, up, up into the sunlight, until you can breathe again.

You rip your eyes from König and look at the Roman translator with loathing and contempt.

“You can leave now. This conversation is over.”

Then you turn, trying not to pay any attention to the hushed conversation that proceeds behind your back. The man leaves the tent: you can hear it, and you can also hear how König rises from the chair and walks right behind you.

“No… afraid,” his hands come to rest on your shoulders, but you don’t even flinch. You knew he was going to touch you again. Perhaps you were even looking forward to it.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you start to argue, but he doesn’t take the bait.

“You like trees?”

He speaks your words, not good, but he speaks them. You wonder if he has known parts of your tongue all along and has simply concealed it. Has he understood what you’ve said to him…? All the slurs and stupid things? Mother, grant mercy…

“Why would I like—What kind of question is that?”

“Climbed a tree,” he explains cheerfully behind you. You turn and look up, yet again rendered weak. Giants are supposed to be stupid. They’re not supposed to know the language of faeries…

“Nosy,” he brushes your cheek with a smile in his eyes.

“Nosy?” 

You huff - as if you wanted to be there and witness him.

As if you had a choice after the seer pushed you on this insane, cruel path.

“Wanted to see me so bad?” König tilts his head playfully.

Gods… You can only look at him with brows curling with helpless frustration, lip trembling from how he seems to know your every little secret. He nods when you don’t say yes or no. He’s perfectly happy to read all the answers from your eyes.

“Ich wusste, dass es so war,” he changes into his own language, and you don’t need to understand the words he says.

You know he knows. He knows you, he knows you to your core, and it doesn’t really matter in which circumstances you two met. He knows far more than you, something about souls and how they’re supposed to meet, how little squirrels and giants belong together, as crazy as it is. That there is no chance in life: no, it was meant that you two meet. To him, it was no coincidence that you practically dropped into his lap from that tree.

“Did you like what you see?”

He holds your shoulders gently as you quiver and shake inside.

“No,” you peep.

“I like what I see,” he declares; a benevolent god.

…

A/N:. Thank you so much for your love and interest in this fic! As you may have noticed the fic now has 4 parts, which is because the 3rd chapter got too chunky and I had to split it 😇 Next part might take a while because I'm moving soon, but let me tell you... These guys will be put into *situations*. Oh, and a reminder that I don't have a taglist for this so please check any future updates from my pinned masterlist post 🩷

Translations:

Gut geschlafen? - Sleep well?

Ja, ich weiß. Ich habe deine Leute getötet. Ich verdiene eine Ohrfeige. - Yes, I know. I killed your people. I deserve a slap.

Es ist schön, mit dir zu reden. Aber jetzt muss ich weg. - It is lovely to talk to you. But now I have to go.

Du. Bleibst. - You. Stay.

Magst du es gestreichelt zu werden? - Do you like being petted?

Ich glaube das tust du. - I think you do.

Wurdest du schon einmal berührt…? - Have you ever been touched…?

Verstanden. - Understood. 

Was sagt sie? - What does she say?

Ich wusste dass es so war - I knew it was so.

[ajortga]

opposites attract

pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader

summary: people would call you and jenna the old married couple from across the street, you'd always argue. you hate each other so much, but you love each other even more.

word count: 2.1k+

warnings: alcohol, goofiness, hilarious imo

based off request! (love you 🦦)

-

ME AGAIN. I JUST LOVE TO SEND OUT REQUESTS FOR SPECIFIC WRITERS 🙏🏻

Jenna Ortega! x Reader!

"In every friend group, there are always two people arguing"

holy shit this dynamic is so cute, it's like wherein obvi J and R likes to argue a lot, whether it be going out w friends, in set, sleepovers, literally just everywhere all the time.. In the end obviously they get together 🙈 YOU CAN DO ABSOLUTELY WHATEVER W THE PLOT IF YOU'D LIKE.

Completely understand if the request isn't taken!! I LOVE YOUR WRITING SM, I LOVE YOU

-🦦

-

It’s silent on set where Scream is being filmed. Silence would’ve filled your break room, that would be if you and Jenna weren’t damn yelling at each other over the littlest of things.

“You fucking cheated!” You accuse, pointing your finger at her as you go crazy and throw your Uno cards everywhere.

The tinier girl puts her hands up, putting one to her chest to pretend to be offended, “The Y/N is accusing me of cheating? When will I clearly won fair and square?”

That throws you off the edge, screaming into a pillow and kicking your feet, then throwing the pillow straight to her head. “I saw you looking at my cards dumbass!”

The atmosphere is chaotic as you two throw pillows at each other, one of them hits Melissa in the nose, “Hey!” She goes, throwing a pillow to Mason, which throws it to Jasmine.

Everyone is throwing their pillows at each other, screaming and laughing. Actually, not everyone is screaming, the only ones are you and Jenna.

“I WAS GLANCING AT THE SCENERY.”

“SINCE WHEN WAS THE SCENERY MY CARDS?” You yell, throwing the stuffed animal at her.

Jasmine nudges Melissa, who lets her pillow down and lets her friend whisper in her ear, “Who’s going to tell them that they’re flirting?” 

A cackle escapes the other actress, “She’s definitely always thinking Y/N is the beautiful scenery. In which she is, she’s like the days that have the best sunsets. She’s a sweetheart.”

That was true. Although Jenna won’t admit it. You were breathtaking. You were like the movie that everyone wants to watch again for the first time. Whose voice was a gentle lullaby that lulled those into a peaceful rest. A work of art, Jenna would say. A work of art she’d fucking hate, yet still buy it’s worth for billions of dollars more than they should be.

“Okay FINE! I peeked! I just saw that you had a yellow seven! That’s it!”

“Exactly!” You say, throwing the stuffed animal up and victory, “Nuh uh, you also said half-way through the game as a joke “I bet you have a blue four,” and I had a blue four!”

“FINE, but that was all!”

“Whatever.”

Mason rolls his eyes as he leans back into his chair, throwing a huge stuffed animal and making you collapse and go, “Hey!”

“They’re gonna get married one day, they’re like an old married couple,” He states, and everyone that hears agrees, except you two. You two are too caught up with arguing with each other, smacking pillows at each other.

“Asshole.”

Grunt!

“Bitch.”

Smack!

“Weirdo!”

“Goofball!”

Plomp!

“Silly!”

“Pretty!”

“Sweet girl.”

“Lovely!”

“Gosh, well aren’t they oblivious?” Jasmine scoffs, “Their flirting and don't even know it, they’ll use that as an excuse for another argument again. Melissa watches, amused, and laughing in the background with a cackle. You two are hitting each other with any pillows you can find.

-

liked by melissabarreram and 1,890,072 others

y/n_l/n this is very not an appreciation post for jenna, the first two i'm posting cause she told me not to but she cheated in uno and she's getting what she deserves! (someone save me from this mad woman)

#justicefory/n i hate you @jennaortega

-

melissabarreram: My babies #justicefory/n

liked by y/n_l/n

natalieortega1: Love you

↳ y/n_l/n: love u too!

crunchybaguette55: y/n is seriously blessing us with these photos

aliyah.ortega: nah why is jenna more flexible than me

liked by y/n_l/n

user839: watch jenna is gonna post something about her

jasminsavoy: lovebirds

liked by y/n_l/n

y/n'spersonalbag: SHE POSTED I'M EARLY

jennaortega: I hate you

↳ y/n_l/n: Ilyt

-

Melissa screams while the members of the cast begin to elevate up the roller coaster. 

“Oh god!” Mason shouts, while you two begin to lift off the floor from the free fall device.

“If the machine were to break and fall, would we bounce out of our seats or bang our head?” Jenna questions, looking down at her feet that are currently 100 to 150 feet off the ground.

You’re right next to her, yet you have to shout because of how loud the machine is, “Nuh uh! None of that stuff, if the machine were to break, then the starting point wouldn’t be as lifted and our feet would probably dislocate.” 

“Pfft, nonsense,” Jenna rolls her eyes, and you try kicking her but as you reach the top, it slowly begins to stop lifting up. 

“Guys!” Jasmine yells, looking down at the floor, she’s still holding her pretzel in her hand. The people below you now look like at least the size of a caterpillar. 

“It’s kind of tall!” Melissa says, but she’s giggling.

“No damn shit!” You say, looking at the floor and preparing for your heart to fly out of your chest, “Hold my hand!” Jenna jokes while you roll her eyes at her.

When you stop at the top, the machine makes a loud “TCCHhhHH” noise, and you are all still. 

“I DON’T WANNA DIE,” Mikey and Devyn cry, screaming.

“We haven’t even gone down- YET!” Everyone starts screaming as the seats you’re in descends at fast speeds. You all scream, high pitched, wails, singing to get your mind off of whatever. Devyn and Jasmine flutter their eyes and do a peace sign when the camera flashes. 

You close your eyes, the machine goes back up, then down, you’re screaming, laughing as Mason’s sandal falls out, “No! My shoe!”

It hits the person operating the roller coaster.

Somehow, your hand finds Jenna’s as you cling onto it, she doesn’t let go, giggling with you as you two fall. It was a nice moment, the breeze in your hair with the sunset saying hello. Except you don’t know if the moment got better or was ruined because before you can appreciate it, Jasmine screams, louder than she had when everyone dropped.

“My pretzels!” She screams, falling out of her hand and flying into the air, the cinnamon pretzels falling and smacking you and Jenna in the face as you feel a flash in your face again, you pose just as it clicks.

“I WANNA GO HOME!” Mason wails, “Where the fuck is my shoe? MY SHOE!”

By the time you reach ground level, everyone’s hair is ruffled, eyes dazed as your legs shake when you leave the machine.

You’re still holding hands with Jenna as you almost collapse on each other, you feel dizzy, probably because the machine was damn spinning and a pretzel got smacked into your face.

"You okay?" she asks, looking at your dizzied form.

"Mmhm, are you okay?" you ask, the feeling of throwing up going away.

She nods, letting you cling onto her as she hugs you tight.

"You're so weak," she teases.

"Says the one who screamed more from a pretzel being thrown in her face than the actual ride."

She smacks you, but nonetheless, still holds you tight to her chest.

Mason looks at the floor, and claps, turning happy, “My sandal!”

Everyone is groaning, Melissa is snorting and looking sick while Devyn and Jasmine shove their hands through the little amount of pretzels left in their bag.

You’re not surprised when everyone busts out laughing, pointing at the pictures of you on the rollercoaster. The first one, Devyn and Jasmine were making peace signs while somehow being able to do the slightest pose, Mason’s shoe is flying and you can see his mouth wide open with one foot barefoot, Melissa is smiling with cotton candy in her mouth, and you and Jenna are screaming and clinging onto each other.

The next one gets more chaotic, with Jasmine and Devyn looking horrified, the whole picture has pretzels flying and hits Jenna and you square in the head. Yet, the frame only catches Jenna’s face being smacked while you’re posing with your hands and blowing a kiss.

You’re laughing so hard, everyone is buying the photos, you can’t stop laughing as Jenna screams from the horror.

“How did they only take a picture when the pretzel gets to me?" She groans.

-

liked by jackchampion and 4,971,391 others

jennaortega i don't know how that little girl managed to hide all her bad photos on my phone but melissa took a photo of her falling asleep on my shoulder, i did not cheat! cancel!! @y/n_l/n

jasminsavoy: little? girl, you're the size of a strawberry.

↳ jennaortega: fuck you respectfully

y/n_l/n: NO i was sleeping because filming was so long

↳ jennaortega: yeah and you decided to sleep on my shoulder, do you know how heavy your head is?

↳ y/n_l/n: meanie

jennasorange: I love you Jenna please notice me

melissabarreram: Love!

natalieortega1: My girls

fruitrollupsa: omg someone confirm are they official

jackchampion: I saw you looking at y/n's cards

↳ jennaortega: no you didn't

↳ jackchampion: actually i did 🤓☝️

-

It was a little after sunset, where outside is painted a blue and purple sky.

“To a long day of maintaining our sanity for today’s long duration of filming!” Devyn says, raising her drink.

“To a long day of maintaining our sanity!” Everyone else cheers, you bring your drinks up and clank them with one another before downing it.

You liked it like this. Having parties every Friday with your scream cast. They were your family, most times you’d have sleepovers, play card games, video games, gossip. Silly photos were taken, and these polaroids were always hung on your wall of memories, Melissa holding her puppy while doing a bridge gymnastic pose, risking her skull from literally cracking.

You take the sip of beer in your hands, with a wide smile on your face. It’s nice knowing you have a group that you can easily fit in, you don’t have to think to speak, you can just do it freely.

A few minutes turn into an hour.

Melissa turns to you, pointing at you and smiling, "You're going to be the first one to get wasted, your cheeks are all pink."

"No their not!" You retaliate, a small slur to your words as you lean on the couch for balance.

"Right," Jasmine says, sarcastically as Jack and Mason are screaming at each other.

"Jack no! If you take that one off then the whole tower will fall! We can't lose!" Mason screams, the Jenga tower tilting.

You giggle.

You catch sight of Jenna and you throw your arms up, stumbling to her while slurring her name slightly, "Jennaaaa, where were youu?"

The brunette looks at you, confusion shown in her futures as she looks at your tiny self, looking up at her and tugging at the collar of her shirt. Your eyes sparkle.

"You're seriously already a little drunk?" She questions, amused as you groan and shake your head, "Noo, shut 'p. You're drunk tooo Jennifer. I literally am not drunk, I know waaht m doing."

"Right, right."

"Jennifer, kiss my forehead,"

"If you call me Jennifer one more time I swear to-"

"Jellybean?"

Jenna rolls her eyes, hugging you and kissing your forehead, "Love you," she murmurs.

"I love you tooo."

She sits you down to the couch where you get the sight of Mason, Jack, Melissa, and Liana are battling each other in Jenga.

"I'm not drunk, I just drank a little, I'm perfectly fine," she states. You don't say anything, instead distract yourself with the large jacket draped over her, you tug it, "I'm cold, give me that."

Jenna looks down at you, trying to take off her jacket, "Hey! What if I'm cold too?"

"Can we share?"

Jenna sighs, rolling her eyes, "Come here," you nestle into her as the jacket plays as a blanket.

It's not enough to cover the two of you, so she throws it into her bag and grabs a large blanket and lays it on the floor. The hollers of the Jenga crew grow loud as the tower tumbles over because of Jack.

"I TOLD YOU NOT TO DO THAT ONE IT WAS GOING TO FALL"

"OH YEAH, oops. I forgot." Jack says, putting his hands up in surrender.

The blanket is huge, it can fit at least 4 people.

"Hey Melissa, over here, let's turn into a burrito or something." The taller Latina that's non-occupied looks at you two, seeing the way you're already laying on the blanket, ready to be wrapped up.

You're squished in the middle as Melissa giggles and Jenna begins to roll over and wrap you 3 in the blanket.

"Oh my god," you three roll till the blanket space runs out, now you guys are cuddled, nestling into each other.

Cozy for sure, all of their arms are wrapped around you and each other as you close your eyes, getting comfortable.

"I hate you two," Jenna murmurs, both you and Melissa go "me too" before you two are silent.

"No you don't," you slur, "You love us."

"I don't, I love you guys," she giggles, and you and Melissa smile, hugging each other and letting the sound of music from the party echoing in your ears.

-

a/n: didn't know how to make them confess, so the ending is kind of suggested that they did? hopefully that's okay<3

[inuyashaluver]

hi angel!! was wondering if you could do a grace clinton x reader fic where they’re doing media together and everyone is speculating that they have something going on bc of their chemistry?? thank youuu i love your fics!

chemistry - grace clinton

grace clinton x reader

description: in which you and your best friend are always caught up in dating rumours

warnings: really not any?

a/n: kicking off pride month with gracie girl!!! hello, lovely!! love love love this request, too cute 🥺🥺 thank you so much for the love ❤️❤️❤️ enjoy! happy pride month to all of you!!

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

if there was something to know about you and your best friend, grace, the two of you were two peas in a pod. the two of you were quite literally attached at the hip, and you have been ever since you were 15.

and if you were to tell those cheeky 15 year olds that you were now dating, they would’ve said you were crazy.

—

you and grace were slight opposites and that’s what made the two of you so balanced out. the two of you were extremely cheeky and always getting caught into mischief.

yet, you could be reserved at times, needing a little extra time to open up to people, but grace always made it easier.

grace helped you out of your shell from a young age, and a lot of your teammates found that you calmed grace down a lot when she got over excited.

your relationship was pure, it just worked, it was fun and exciting yet heartfelt and genuine.

you both played together for england and followed grace around to different clubs. it was rare to see the two of you apart.

—

back in 2022, the two of you moved in together as you both played for manchester united, and during this time, you by very high demand made a tiktok account to document your daily life.

they were regular videos, some silly ones, serious ones, you didn’t think much of it until they blew up because of yours and grace’s videos.

videos of the two of you giggling on the couch playing with filters, or going to training together. people couldn’t deny the chemistry between the two of you.

you tried to act like the shipping comments didn’t affect you but they did. you harboured a crush on grace but pushed it aside knowing that the comments made her uncomfortable, as she would never look you in the eye when you would bring them up.

but what you didn’t know was that the comments overwhelmed grace because she thought she was being too obvious.

if people on the internet were catching on to her massive crush, she would surely be caught out by you. but of course, the two of you were clueless.

—

in 2023, you and grace both got loaned to tottenham and that’s when things really kicked off.

“hey, everyone! today i’m doing a get ready with me for game day” you smile at your phone propped up on the mirror of your bathroom.

you were chatting mindlessly, explaining who the match was against, how you were feeling, what was going to happen in the process.

these were your most popular videos, and you loved to make them to communicate with the fans.

“i’m feeling good today, hopefully i get to start, i had a niggle in my hip that was bothering me for the last two weeks and haven’t been able to play” you pout slightly at the camera, fixing up your hair the way you liked it for the game.

suddenly, grace comes in the room, sending the camera a cheeky grin as her arms wrapped around your middle, chin resting on your shoulder.

“gracie girl is here” you chuckle, growing louder when grace playfully pinches your waist with a quick kiss to your cheek.

she stares at you affectionately through the mirror, ready for the game and clearly waiting for you. she fixes a stray hair away from your forehead with her arms still wrapped around you tightly.

“why don’t you tell everyone why you have a niggle in your hip?” she laughs, you glare at her through the mirror, your hard gaze meeting with her amused one.

“no” you grit, trying to take grace’s arms off you but she was stronger, “yes” she quips, a shit eating grin evident on her face.

“grace, no, stop it” you warn, grace shakes her head, really wanting you to say the real reason you’ve been out for two weeks.

“fine, i’ll say it” she grins, your eyes widen, you turn in her arms, your hand clasping over her mouth as you glare at her, letting out a squeal when grace licks the palm of your hand. you could be a germaphobe at times.

“fuck, clinton, that’s gross!” you grimace, washing your hands immediately, clearly a bad idea because grace grabs your phone and makes a run for it.

you let out a heavy sigh, fighting a smile at the corner of your lips hearing grace’s little excited giggles.

“(y/n/n) hurt her hip because i stole her water bottle and she chased me in the rain and fell right on the pitch” she laughs, hearing you groaning from the bathroom.

“but don’t worry guys, i carried her everywhere and kissed her better” she says cheekily.

you laugh as grace comes back to you, pressing her cheek to yours as she held the phone close to your faces, both of you making silly faces.

you cut the video and get dressed into your kit, making grace film your finished look which really caught the attention of the fans.

“okay guys, final outfit, literally the spurs kit” you do a little spin and grace lets out a whistle, “so beautiful” she says adoringly, your cheeks slowly turning pink before you scrambled to get the phone off grace.

—

13,456 comments

gracex(y/n)fann: we love silly girlfriends

↳ (y/n)lover13: girlfriends? i thought they were best friends?

↳ ilovewoso: they are best friends

↳ wosofan99: they’re definitely dating, the way grace looks at her 😩

gracesfangirl: anyone else think they’re flirting orrr?

↳ (y/n)ismywife: they’re flirting so hard i feel so lonely

↳ graciestar: you and me both😞

—

you and grace continued to make videos and the popularity grew more and more on your account.

so much so, later on when you and grace made the senior lioness team, they always paired you up for media days.

—

“hello, i’m (y/n) (y/l/n)” grace says cheekily, you hold back a laugh, “and i’m grace clinton” you say back matching her energy. grace glances at you quickly with a smile before turning back to the camera.

“today, we are doing a food challenge, which will be interesting because gracie is a picky eater” you chuckle, receiving immediate protests from grace,

“nah, you’re picky too!” she accuses, pointing her finger at you sternly before gently booping the tip of your nose.

you scrunch your nose up slightly at the action, grace can’t help but blush a little at your soft gaze, quickly snapping out of it knowing you were on camera.

“okay, i’m a little picky but grace is a lot more picky than me” you shrug, looking down at the covered plate in front of the two of you.

“okay, whatever” grace scoffs teasingly, bumping your hip with hers. “so, we will be doing rock, paper scissors and one of us will be blindfolded, and then we guess the food” grace explains.

your eyes were trained on her the entire time she spoke, and when she turned to see you already looking at her, her heart sped up faster than her playing a full 90 minutes.

“let’s go!” you smile, turning to grace to start rock, paper, scissors. and of course, grace won.

she snickered as she gestured you to spin around, gently tying the blindfold over your eyes and spinning you around by your shoulders after she was done.

“is it too tight?” she asks with a hint of worry, you mindlessly wave out your hands, feeling for grace’s face, both of you giggling when you cupped her cheeks.

“nah, i’m good, hurry up!” you pinch her cheek, making her roll her eyes and face the camera.

“so impatient” she mouths, smiling before taking your hands off her face, squeezing them quickly before taking the closh off the plate.

and when it was opened, there were two little bowls, one with ice cream and one with hot sauce. clearly, the media team wanted you both to be evil, but grace couldn’t do that to you.

she spoons the ice cream into your mouth and you smile, “too easy, ice cream” you giggle, grace wiping off the remainder on the corner on your mouth, licking off the excess.

“well done” she praises, squeezing your bicep gently before moving to take off your blindfold after the media team presented a new plate.

the next time, you won and grace had a go at being blindfolded, and you felt a little cheeky with the options. one being wasabi and the other being peanut butter.

you scooped up the teenist amount of wasabi and instantly felt bad as it made way to her mouth. she immediately grimaced and coughed, you handed her water immediately and giggled when grace assured she was okay.

“that was disgusting” she coughs as you take the blindfold off, you wrap your arms around her neck and pull her down into a tight hug, uttering apologies as you kissed her cheek repeatedly.

grace flushed completely, her hand pressed firmly into the small of your back.

“i can’t believe i did that” you say against her cheek, holding her close with an apologetic smile, grace chuckles as she held you, pulling away slightly to press her own kiss against your cheek that had you flushed as well.

both of you pulled away with a clear of your throats, continuing the video with shy glances at each other. and like clockwork, the video. blew. up.

—

40,232 comments

graceswife: okay there is no way these two aren’t married with three children

↳ (y/n)swife: they have grandkids too, there’s no way they’re friends

ilovewoso: …i’m questioning everything i know

↳ (y/n)lover13: …so am i

graceand(y/n): i don’t know if i want to be (y/n) or grace

wosofan: grace, can you fight?

—

you both didn’t expect the amount of attention you were getting. gaining more and more followers, as well as an increasing amount of dm’s and comments questioning your’s and grace’s relationship.

on a free saturday, you were sitting on the couch in your shared flat, scrolling through endless comments about you and grace. you were up earlier than her, as grace liked to sleep in.

you looked worried as you scrolled, breathing a little heavily with a pit in your stomach growing. maybe you were coming on too strong? grace was probably so uncomfortable, you should have known better.

you couldn’t help the tears pricking in your eyes, it was overwhelming. you loved grace, you really did, and you felt occasionally that she might feel the same but the uncertainty grew larger through the years.

you heard the door of grace’s room open and you hurriedly wiped your tears, grace heard the sniffles and rushed over to where you were, worry flooding over her features.

“love?” grace says cautiously, heart breaking as you turned to her with a tearful smile, “morning” you choke out, grace moves around the couch to sit next to you, her hand grabbing yours and interlocking them.

“love, what’s wrong?” grace asks softly, her free hand wiping a stray tear escaping your eye. you take a deep, shaky breath, subconsciously moving closer to the girl you loved so much.

“the comments on the video we made is just a lot to handle” you breathe out, fighting back the tears seeing grace’s concerned face.

“the ones about us?” grace clarifies, you nod, your hand squeezing hers a little tighter. “you don’t like them?” grace asks cautiously.

“i just think i’d like for them to be true” you say after a moment of silence, bracing for the impact of rejection from your best friend.

“we can make them true” grace says without hesitation, her demeanour changing completely knowing you felt the same.

to say you froze was an understatement, your eyes meeting with grace made your body feel like it was on fire.

“i’ve always wanted that, babe” grace says earnestly, smiling brightly at your look of relief. “i have too” you say shyly, hearing grace tutt next to you.

“and you didn’t say anything? tsk” she mocks, her face stoic for a split second before you both broke out in a fit of giggles.

“you didn’t say anything either” you roll your eyes teasingly, “i didn’t say it verbally, no, physically, yes” she says charmingly, moving forward to place a kiss on your cheek.

she smiled feeling it grow warm under her lips, pulling away with a satisfied smirk. but what she didn’t expect was you leaning in for a kiss on her cheek, grace moving her head so your lips met with hers gently.

you pulled away slight with a surprised expression but leaned forward again until your lips just ghosted over hers, teasing her with a smile.

“so annoying” she joked, her hand making its way to your cheek and pulling you in for a kiss.

you giggle against her lips and she bites your bottom one warningly, both of you heavy breathing as grace lowered your back to meet with the couch, both of you kissing breathlessly in a languid, yet loving kiss.

when grace pulled away, she took in your appearance, kiss swollen lips with enlarged pupils, admiring how beautiful you looked, knowing you were doing the same with her.

both of your eyes twinkled. you both knew the wait was worth it to get to this moment.

—

“hey guys, today we are doing a get ready with me for camp for the lionesses” you smile at the camera, hearing a snicker coming from beside you.

“i have a very special guest for this one” you say cheekily, glancing over at grace with a knowing smile, holding out your hand for her.

she took it instantly, letting you drag her into the frame, grace with a bright smile that made your heart feel warm.

“my special guest is my girlfriend” you grin up at her, letting grace peck your lips quickly knowing it would go crazy on the internet.

“before we start, baby, i want to answer a question i saw in your comments” grace says pleadingly.

you giggle and nod, your girlfriend squeezes your hips gratefully as she kissed your cheek.

“to answer your questions, yes i can fight, and i will” she says with a hint of anger in her words, wrapping you up in a tight hug from behind as she kissed your cheek repeatedly, deja vu from the first video that gained a lot of attention.

your hands rest on grace’s with a loving smile before you helped each other get ready, answering some questions as you go along for fun.

when the video got posted, everyone flooded the video with messages of support, feeling the pure love emanating from the both of you.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill - imagine it’s you! ily tooneyyy

liked by alessia and 44,232 others

graceclinton_x: willing to fight anyone who tries to steal this one away from me

view all comments

yourname: me too! me too!

↳ graceclinton_x: get ready with us to fight other suitors

lionesses: we knew it 💅

↳ yourname: oh?

↳ graceclinton_x: oh?

↳ lionesses: long time coming, you two are so obvious

↳ spurswomen: painfully

↳ manutdwomen: painfully

↳ yourname: okay, no need for this.

[starglitterz]

♡ SMILEY.

❝ do you like the way i talk about you all day? wanna hear you say; you talk about me all the time! ❞ // how the genshin men talk to you ♡

✧ feat ; albedo, ayato, cyno, dainsleif, diluc, gorou, heizou, itto, kaeya, lyney, neuvillette, scaramouche, thoma, venti, wriothesley, xiao, zhongli x gn!reader ✧ warning(s) ; none, just pure fluff !! ✧ a/n ; grand comeback post!! (i say this every time i disappear) hope u guys like this it’s just a silly little fun post LOL,,, it’s not my normal style but i did want to post something because it’s been a while >:) if this doesn't show up in tags i will Cry.

please reblog + leave comments ! it helps a lot w motivation <3

✦ some boys are sweet-talkers, compliments spilling from their lips like a waterfall whenever they speak to you. but the praise isn’t just empty words, because the way their eyes sparkle as they gush over you shows that they mean it sincerely. and they’ll never understand why you get so embarrassed when they tell you how pretty you look, or how smart you are – they’re just telling you the truth, after all!  — gorou, itto, thoma, venti

✦ you know you should find it stupid how men tend to manspread in their chair. but when these boys lean back in their seat, legs parted just enough as they raise an eyebrow and ask, “yeah?” or “is that right?” with a nod for you to continue speaking, you swear you can feel your knees buckling. seriously, what else can you do when they look at you with that piercing gaze, the barest hint of a smug smile dancing about their mouth?  — ayato, scaramouche, wriothesley

✦ with quiet boys, the things they say are even more valuable because of how rare they are. they’re usually silent, listening to your voice with a soft smile as you ramble about your day. but sometimes, out of nowhere, they’ll whisper a compliment, one that comes straight from their heart and pierces yours. it isn’t like dramatic poetry adorned with stunning prose, but their blunt compliments mean the world simply because of how genuine they are. just one sentence like “your eyes are so pretty when you talk about the things you love.” and you’re folding.  — albedo, dainsleif, diluc, neuvillette, xiao, zhongli

✦ and of course, there are those boys whose every word is coated with so much sugar their sentences wouldn’t be out of place in a bakery. every time they see you, there’s a new pick-up line to test on you, or another grand gesture to wow you with. a bouquet of roses pulled from nowhere accompanied with the cheesiest line you’ve ever heard is generally not the way to win someone’s heart, but when you see the trace of hopefulness glimmering in their gaze as they await your reply, you think that maybe it’s cute if it’s coming from them. — cyno, heizou, kaeya, lyney

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