#It doesn't even have my signature x'3

[j3nnix]

[disneyprincemuke]

5 times * mv1

there are five times max almost caught himself saying he loves you, and then there's the time that he finally let you know

pairings: max verstappen x horner's niece!reader

warnings: i... don't know?

notes: yes, i'm making a comeback because i've gotten back into the mood of writing (i'm single) and because f1 has got me screaming, crying and throwing up. also, this took me 3 days to write, and i have grown attached. lmk if you guys want the counterpart (basically the same concept, but it's from your eyes???)

one.

"fucking," max cuts himself off, grabbing the closest thing to him. lucky for him, and his team, it's just his racing gloves, "bitch!"

it's just so infuriating to be so close to that podium. he crashed with 5 laps left of the race. his left rear decided to fail him stupidly near the end, after he'd poured his heart and soul to get on that podium. but here he is, moping in his driver's room.

after constantly being in the scrutiny of the public, especially with the way he handled losing, he'd resided here immediately. there's a bubbling anger rising up from him. he's so infuriated.

until a soft knock lands on his door. snapping him out of his thoughts, he knew what he wanted this time. "please leave me alone."

"okay. but christian just wants to know if you're alright." your voice sounds small. he could barely hear you with the door in the way.

he takes a deep breath, then walks over to the door. it reveals you with a hesitant smile on your face.

but he's always had a soft spot for you. all of the anger he'd been feeling merely 5 seconds ago dissipated. "oh. you're not in my room at the circuit often."

"i know. i'm sorry to intrude." you look down at the ground, your often confident self absolutely nowhere to be seen. "christian sent me to check in on you. i'll leave you alone, but i can't go back without an answer."

for starters, you're not a stranger to the signature max verstappen temper. but never has he directed it at you once. it's surely raised the eyebrows of christian horner the first time it happened when you joined the team.

one second he was all over the garage, only rude words coming out of his mouth. the next, he was silently raging as he sat on the tire of his car while you discussed dinner plans with your uncle.

"please, don't worry about it." he takes a step back, gesturing for you to enter the room. you do just that, although a bit hesitant. and he doesn't blame you for that. "come in."

there's a moment of silence between you two. for a moment, the engines from the cars outside start to die down, and the frequency of the fireworks is slowing down, and there are more footsteps in the gravel that surround the trailer.

"i'm okay." he leans on the massage table in the middle of the room. he still hasn't changed out of his race suit. his helmet, balaclava and gloves are all thrown in different directions of the room. they had all been victims of his uncontrollable rage.

it's apparent that he's not even close to being okay. he just has to bank on the fact that you don't probe with more questions.

"it's okay if you're not," you answer in a gentle tone. a soft audible sigh passes your lips as you sit on the couch in the opposite side of the small room. "it's just you and me. i'm not part of your racing team."

his eyes do the speaking again. the heaving of his chest is enough to tell you that he's actually contemplating it. without another moment's hesitation, he starts to go at it. all of the emotions he's been feeling lately, the frustration from just being 5 laps shy of being on that podium.

he's just ranting, throwing his hands in the air while he paces all over the room. he makes a mental note to find a way to make it up to you after this - you're just sitting there patiently, nodding your head empathetically while he talks.

it’s as if you knew and understood all that he’s talking about.

"it's just unfair! i did everything right this time!" he exclaims, hands clenched up into a fist. "i should have been up there! i deserved to be on that podium!"

there's one more thing that bothers him. you. whatever he feels for you. the way his heart races whenever you're around, or the way he's always thinking of the way you fix his hair for marketing promotion material - he can't get you out of his mind. for years, now.

he'd met you when he was 18, fresh into red bull racing as christian's new prodigy. he had only seen you a total of 15 times within the span of 3 and a half years. the transition from crumbs of your presence to full-out spending the whole racing season with you was more than his heart could handle.

now that he's gotten to know you better, the 22-year-old is almost convinced that he might actually have feelings for you. "and-"

he looks up from the ground, flinching back slightly when you're staring directly into his eyes from across the room. your eyes dart down to his hands and it's only then he notices how his hands are clenched into fists next to him.

he almost slipped up about his feelings for you. good thing he caught himself at the last second. his chest heaves as he looks at you, shoulders tensed up and eyebrows furrowed.

you raise an eyebrow, slowly nodding. you make a gesture with your hand to encourage him to continue saying whatever is on his mind. "and?"

"and," i have feelings for you, "it's just so unfair."

he feels his body melt at your stare. his shoulders slump, his breathing starts to regulate and his hands slowly unravel from a fist. it's just so unfair that he's so hopelessly smitten with his principal's niece.

"i know." you push yourself off the couch and walk over to him. stopping just a few steps from him, he looks at you sigh. "i'm sorry that it happened to you, max."

then a small grin slowly stretches his lips. the race is over - there is absolutely nothing he can do to change the result. he shrugs, "it's just racing."

"you can still feel angry about it," you grin, "it's just me."

max shakes his head with a soft chuckle. "i know. it's okay; i'm okay."

you drop your head slightly. max knows you don't buy his lie. of course, he's still angry about what happened. but there is still some truth to what he said - he got unlucky today with the car.

you take a deep breath. he's caught completely by surprise when your arms spread out, taking a step forward and engulfing him in the warmest hug.

he catches a whiff of all your scents - your shampoo, your perfume, and creepily enough, the soap you use for your clothes. and he completely basks in your embrace, his arms wrapping themselves around your smaller frame. his neck rests on your shoulder, silently straining his back just to take you in.

"i know you're not," you whisper. you lean your head into his as you rub circles on his clothed back. "i'm here for you, okay?"

and he wants to say it to you. he gets an inkling, after you just spent the better part of 20 minutes letting him scream about his feelings, that this is bigger than himself.

"i," he trails off, arms tightening around you. he closes his eyes, repeatedly reminding himself that he's not willing to risk it. he releases the breath he's been holding. "thank you."

two.

max can barely keep himself upright in the seat. he's clutching onto his balaclava, eyes following the light shone into his eyes as per the doctor's request.

he had a bad crash with lewis during the race that sent him flying into the walls. he blacked out for a couple of seconds, and he's been in pain since they escorted him to the medical centre.

there's a soft knock on the door, before he hears the creak followed by footsteps. "i'll be back with results, okay?" the doctor straightens up before walking away from him. he acknowledges the presence of someone new, then proceeded to walk out of the room.

the relief max immediately felt when he sees you standing shyly by the door, hands clasped together.

"are you okay?" you ask softly, slowly making your way over to him. "i came as soon as i heard what happened to you. that was horrible, what happened to you."

he tilts his head at you, ignoring the strain in his neck and the pounding in his head. "as soon as you heard?"

you chuckle, glancing down at the floor in what could only be described as embarrassment. "i was in the bathroom taking a piss when geri ran in yelling for me," you admit.

your eyes roam his body, your eyes matching the empathetic stares of everyone he has looked at since he was helped out of that stupid car. he hates it. he hates being on the receiving end of those stares, but it was strangely comforting coming from you.

"are you alright? do you have any more injuries?" you ask. you look at him, hands hovering above his hand that rests on his knee. max gives you a small nod of consent.

"it's just a concussion, from what i can feel," max admits. though, it hurts everywhere. when you crash into a wall at that speed and black out, it's definitely going to hurt everywhere that it can.

he's watching you intently. you're lifting his sleeves to scan for bruises and moving about the neckline of his race suit to look for any injuries. there's a tingling sensation that you leave behind as your fingers graze over his now exposed skin.

"i'm okay."

"i don't buy that at all," you scoff. you reach over for the empty plastic chair and pull it to his side. you take a seat. "i'm glad you're okay. i was really worried something bad had happened."

he smiles. the way you care for him never fails to make his stomach churn and his heart start to race. "it could've been worse. i'm glad it's just a concussion i've got."

you turn your head to look at him. god, he wishes he can just take you in for an embrace and reassure you that he's perfectly fine. because he is. it's just some body aches - nothing he hasn't had to go through before as an athlete.

"i'm sorry about the race." you take his towel into your hands and fold it up. you gently tap on his face, wiping away the sweat that had formed on his face. "let me know if you need anything, okay? water, ice... food..."

"i will handle," he grins, his gaze following your hands' movements. "thank you, though."

you don't say anything. you just smile at him as you put the towel back down on his knee. you rest your hand just above the damp material and tilt your head at him. "how do you feel, though?"

"g-"

"about the points," you cut him off. "it's a close fight for the driver's championship. how do you feel about that?"

he shrugs, pouting his lips out. you widen your eyes at him as you anticipate the next thing coming from his mouth. "it's just racing. i'll come back next weekend."

you roll your eyes and lean back into the chair. both of your eyes are on the tv, watching the broadcast of the race together. "i believe in you. there's still a long season ahead of you."

he moves his eyes to look at you. not his head fully - he doesn't need you catching him stare at you. your unconditional support for him just made him want to jump for joy.

thought, sometimes he does wonder if you're only doing it because you work for the team. but other times you're just so believable that he thinks it's him as a person you're rooting for.

and god, he wants it to him so bad.

"it feels like forever - this pain," he admits. without thinking, his hand instinctively reaches forward. he puts his hand above yours. he squeezes your hand.

he sees you shake your head. you manoeuvre your hand. now your palms are touching. he could have sworn it was the concussion making him see and feel things when you intertwine your fingers.

if he were to be honest with you, he feels like this could the lowest point of the season for him. that rear failure earlier on felt minuscule compared to this crash. deep down inside, there's a fear that there's no coming back from this.

you squeeze his hand, slightly tighter than he had done to you just a few seconds prior. "i wish i could make it better. i'm sorry, max."

your voice wavers as you speak to him. and it kills him that you’re so worried for him. he does have a healthy support system, as much as the public wants to make it out that he’s too cold for that.

max wants to reassure you, just as you'd done with him. but he doesn't even know how to do that. your presence now, while he's still slightly out of it from the crash, is enough to put him at ease.

he sighs, squeezing your hand once more. it's at the tip of his tongue. if he could just convince himself to say it to you.

yet, he settles with, "you're the best."

three.

max leans back into the wall, arms folded over his chest. the strobing lights, the music bouncing off the walls, and a plethora of bodies surround him.

next to him, sebastian is deep in conversation with daniel. a conversation that he had tuned out of a few minutes ago. when he found you on the dance floor, terrorising alex and lily with your dance moves.

if you asked him, he would've told you that you're a natural at many things. dancing, unfortunately, is not one of them.

his silent pining comes to a halt when he meets lily's gaze from across the room. a knowing smile on the girl's face, he feels his cheeks heat up when she drags alex down to whisper something in his ear while pointing at max accusingly. alex turns his head in max's direction and his body shakes with a laugh.

great. they've caught on.

alex nods and raises his eyebrows at max teasingly. alex glances at you, shocked to find out that you've managed to shimmy your way 5 metres down the dance floor to now terrorise george and carmen.

max smiles to him, watching alex bend over backwards to get your attention. it's proven a challenge when you sandwich yourself between them.

when alex manages to finally get your attention, you just smile at him. you hand him the empty glass in your hand and grab carmen's hands. it's a wonderful sight - alex struggling to get your attention. but when he did, max swears his heart skips a beat.

because you lean into alex, listening to what he says into your ear. alex points in his direction and your face lights up when your eyes meets his.

you stride across the room and push yourself through the crowd. before he knew it, you're staring up at him with a toothy grin and wide eyes.

from the corner of his eyes, he notices sebastian and daniel have stopped their conversation. across the room, lily and carmen have flagged their boyfriends down. all eyes are on the two of you.

"what are you doing here all by yourself? you should be out on the dance floor celebrating!" you shout over the music, tiptoeing slightly to meet max's height. "you just won a race!"

"i'm good here, thanks!" max laughs, moreso at your state. your cheeks are puffed up and your lips are swollen. even your voice sounds damaged from all the screaming you've done. "enjoy your evening, please! don't worry about me!"

you shake your head in urgency. "no! you have to celebrate!"

he continues to look down at you, genuinely considering if he should let your persuasion tactics work on him tonight. who is he kidding; he can never say no to you.

"okay, but i'm driving us back to the hotel. so no drinks for me." before he could finish his sentence, you've managed to yank him off the wall. your hand has a firm grip around his wrist as you guide him through the crowd towards the bar counter.

"we'll get a cab!" you stop right at the bar and turn around to look at him. "you won the race today! aren't you excited? are you not at least a little bit prideful that you're leading the driver's championship again?"

max supposes you have a point. he should be excited. here he is in his 6th year in formula 1, being so close to clinching the world champion title for the first time in his life. it's just one night, right?

he can't possibly let you be more excited for his achievements than himself. that's just not right. did he not believe in himself?

he watches you prop yourself up on the bar stool, carefully telling the bartender your order. max's hands hover over your body, just in case you'd fall.

once again, you have managed to make his heart race by putting so much emphasis on his achievements. he's made his way onto the podium several times now that it seems almost mundane for him to end up there.

he wants the next big thing; he wants the world championship title. but why exactly is he waiting a whole few months just to celebrate again?

"come on, max! let loose a little. you don't have to wait for the season to be over to celebrate," you answer genuinely. for a moment there, max almost thinks you're sober. "if you don't want to celebrate your small wins, at least let me do it for you?"

he huffs. you're a lot more convincing when you pretend to be sober, after having downed a couple glasses of cocktails.

you tilt the unscrewed bottle of beer towards him, a freshly mixed glass of cocktail in your other. "congrats on winning the race today, max. i'm so proud of you."

max takes the bottle out of your hands. he willingly taps the neck of the bottle onto the rim of your glass. "cheers," he grins, watching you excitedly sipping away on your mojito.

if he could guess, you’re 6 glasses in. you’re definitely going to regret it in the morning.

you swiftly intertwine your fingers with his and start to pull him towards the dance floor. "let's go celebrate!"

you stop abruptly, your cocktail almost spilling all over your dress as he plants his feet into the ground. you squeeze his hand and look up at him shyly with your chests almost touching. even in the sea of people in the club, you managed to make it feel so intimate.

just you and him.

can he really excuse the words threatening to slip out of his mouth with half the bottle of beer in his system? can he just say it without you remembering it the next day?

but you beat him to saying something. "i'm so proud of you, max."

he smiles, letting a small breath out. he squeezes your hand. "thank you. you're the best."

four.

it's upsetting, really, not having you in the paddock all weekend. what you'd thought to be a simple itchy throat from all the sweets you've consumed had turned into a covid scare. you're isolated in the hotel, albeit having tested negative, already better.

the team couldn't risk getting either driver contracting a sickness. especially not max, a clear contender for the title this year.

max has not seen you since tuesday. the photos of him on the red bull racing social media platforms are just not as good when it's not you taking them. nobody else on the marketing team ever tells him his hair is a mess. neither do you - you always just reach in to fix his hair for him.

max huffs, adjusting his shirt as he stood in front of your hotel room. the small bouquet of flowers suffocate in the grip of his hands. a plastic hangs on his fingers.

the lock clicks. the door is slowly pulled open. there you are, in all your glory. your hair is up in a ponytail, you're in your pyjamas with juice in your hand. your eyes widen. "max! what are you doing here?"

with flowers in his hands, there's really only so many excuses he can make up. he tilts his head and his eyes narrow down. he's searching his brain for an excuse - something that doesn't scream the fact that he is hopelessly in love with you. "um..."

he stays in the hallway of the hotel, and you stay inside with your hand still on the door handle.

when he had gotten off the race track, alex had celebrated with him. at some point, max expected someone to bring it up. it just shocked him that it had taken this long.

alex gave him a firm pat on the back as they strolled the paddock after media commitments. and the question finally came up. "so are you ever going to ask (y/n) out?"

the question should not have even shocked him in the first place. he had been sitting around waiting for someone to ask him this. nevertheless, he was still dumbfounded by the question.

he started explaining - how he can never get around to asking you out. you're christian's beloved niece. first of the next generation. christian even introduced you as the daughter he had to raise before he ever thought about having kids of his own.

and alex gave him the weirdest stare. because everyone on the paddock could easily tell max had feelings for you. he didn't do much to hide it either. it'd apparently been so bad that even toto wolff sneaks around the paddock with questions if there's been progress.

and so, here he is, standing in front of your hotel room after having won his home race. when he managed to escape his pr manager, he took a shower and immediately bought flowers, some food and came straight to you.

he missed you all week.

"max?"

his answer comes out in a ramble. if you hadn't spent so much time with him, you probably wouldn't have understood. but in your week of absence, the driver doted on you with video messages, voice messages and pictures. endless updates with the grid, the drama, the placements.

anything to make it feel like you were still there with him.

"can i take you out on a date?"

his heart races. beads of sweat form on his forehead. the hallway, that had once felt so icy suddenly became so warm.

"what?" your jaw drops, eyebrows are raised in shock. the silence is deafening.

is this some kind of sick prank alex is pulling on him?

immediately, max goes into defensive mode. "i mean, it's okay if you don't! i just thought if i don't shoot my shot now, then i'll never know. i won't take it personally!" he lifts up the plastic filled with tupperwares of food. "i even brought you supper!"

you scoff with a laugh bubbling up from your stomach. you leap up from your spot, throwing yourself onto max. you lift your feet off the ground. his available arm wraps around your waist to stabilise you. his other arm, already busy with gifts for you, darts out to hold the door ajar.

and what does this mean, exactly? max verstappen has never been one to take these things for an answer. he needs is in black and white - in the clearest of clarifications.

"yes, of course!" you squeal into his shoulder. okay, now he can celebrate. it had taken you a solid 10 seconds in a tight embrace before you decided that the hotel's hallways were too exposing for your liking.

finally, he lets you guide him into the hotel room. he can't stop the wide grin forming on his face either. by the looks of it, neither can you.

"right. these are for you," max finally says, holding out the bouquet of flowers to you. "and i'm sorry i'm late. i could have gotten here earlier if it weren't for alex and lando fighting me over what flowers to get you."

your eyebrow raises, willingly receiving the flowers. "you were in cahoots with those two?"

"and george," max shrugs simply, scrunching up his nose. "but he was easier to deal with than those two."

you smile, if it's possible to get even bigger than what's already there, as your fingers lightly graze over the petals of the flowers. max simply stands back while he watches you admire the brightly coloured bouquet.

he's confident about one thing that night: what kind of flowers to get you. so when lando and alex were fighting him over which flowers to get you, they were simply debating over the roses.

but he is in the netherlands. what else could have been the right choice of flowers but the tulips? and he's in an expensive sport, after all. it would be so uncharacteristic of him to undermine the way he felt for you.

long story short, he got the most gigantic bouquet filled with striped tulips. he spent 150 euros. that's not even near the amount he knows he feels for you.

if you asked him for the world, he'd simply exhaust every single resource he has to give it to you.

"thank you so much," you coo, finally looking up at him. you lean in, pressing a firm kiss to his cheek. and he will absolutely spend the rest of his night thinking of this exact moment.

this is quite possibly the furthest he's gone with you. and he almost slips up again. he should've just said it, but he's just not quite sure he should. it's just going to scare you off.

"oh! and, congrats on the race win today," you cheer before pressing your lips against his cheek again.

max grins. he doesn’t know why he put it past you. you’ve made it clear you’re going to be his biggest fan. “oh, you watched the race?”

you’re gently laying the bouquet on top of the table in the corner of your room. “of course. it was a brilliant race. i'm so proud of you."

he just squeezes your shoulder. "thank you. you're the best."

five.

in his dark hotel room, the tv illuminates your face as your eyes lock on the movie you've chosen. it's the only way max can see your face. he'd love to be able to pay attention to this movie, but how could be when you're all tangled up with him.

"are you scared?" you suddenly mutter. your first words in almost 20 minutes, almost making him question if you're making conversation because you're falling asleep.

"what?" he's genuinely dumbfounded with the question. he glances at the tv, curious if he had dozed off long enough for you to choose another movie. but no. it's still mamma mia playing. "we're watching a musical."

max watches your body heave up, then down. "for tomorrow."

he tenses up. he's been trying his hardest not to think about it at all, actually. since he'd finished up his evening with media commitments, he just went straight to you in the garage office. he packed his bags and took you out to dinner.

he's secured pole position for tomorrow. he didn't want to think of anything else right now.

he doesn't want that stress passed on to you.

max hums, suddenly feeling an interest in the musical. it's meryl streep singing abba, after all. how can he not be any more interested? he shrugs. "okay, i guess."

he avoids your eyes. all eyes and remaining attention of the evening is on the actress belting out a song. and it's rudely interrupted when you pause it.

you stumble around, propping yourself up to your elbow to give him a stern look. "okay?" sometimes max forgets you're now his girlfriend. he forgets that he doesn't have to put up a front to shield you from his real emotions. "what do you mean 'okay'?"

he sighs. he turns his head back to face you, almost flinching at the glare you're giving him. he clears his throat as he pushes himself up against the arm of the couch. he sits cross-legged and you mirror his posture. he shrugs again. "i can't overthink it now. i just have to do my best tomorrow."

you throw your hands up in the air, scoffing. "what?"

max is at a loss for words. what response, exactly, did you expect out of him? "what?" he says back, hands also thrown up into the air. from the amount of time you've spent around him on the race track, he expected you to know his mindset when stepping into a race.

he can't overthink it before he even gets on the track. in fact, there is no room for that at all.

you resign to the other end of the couch and fold your arms over your chest. you even pull your feet back, not wanting to be in the range of his touch.

"(y/n), i don't know what you want me to say, darling," max responds gently. he's slightly annoyed, yes, but he doesn't want that to triumph your relationship. "you know the clear mind i need to get into a race. if i overthink, that's when it's over for me."

you roll your eyes. "no. it's just you and me. there is absolutely no way you have no opinions about the race tomorrow. not even a single thought? seriously, max?" you tear your eyes from him. "i'm not christian."

max sighs. he scooches over to you on the over end of the couch. though you squeeze yourself further into the armrest away from him.

he huffs, wrapping his arms around you. he pulls you in and presses a kiss to the top of your head. "of course, i have a thought in my head about the race. but if i let it get to me, darling, it can cost me the championship."

you hum, but there's a hint of annoyance. though, you give in. because you drop your head back on his shoulder and pout. "okay, fine. race your heart out, max. i just know you've got this."

he gives you a slight squeeze. a weaker one compared to others. honestly? he's terrified of screwing up tomorrow. he just wants that title so bad. all his life, he's worked for it.

he's simply afraid to let christian down. more importantly, he's afraid to let you down. though his handful of mental breaks about being so close to the final race of the season, you'd reassure him that you'll always be proud of him no matter what.

it's just not enough for him.

the movie starts to play again. you coddle up into his lap and he rests his cheeks on your head. i love you.

thank you, you're the best.

max has not been able to get the ringing out of his head since he crossed the checkered flag. he has not been able to think straight since then.

he just won his first world championship title. he's on his knees, his head resting on the tire. all 58 laps, all he could think of is how is he going to win? how will the season play out?

he finally lifts his head, dropping himself back to sit on the track of the abu dhabi track. he groans loudly, almost into a scream, as he unclips his helmet. he yanks it off his head, then his balaclava almost immediately.

he is feeling so many things.

then across the barrier, he sees you. eyes filled with tears, hair pulled back into a ponytail, in your very own red bull racing uniform. his stare down with you doesn't last long. christian is quick to yank you away.

and he spends the next 5 minutes scanning the crowd for you. sure, he wants to celebrate with the people that made it possible for him to even be there in the first place. but there is you.

"max!" your voice makes him whirl around. a sigh of relief slumps his shoulder. it's you.

his face lights up at the sight of you. just a minute ago, he felt so drained. he barely found it in himself to walk to his team for cheers. yet here he is jogging towards you.

"world champion, max verstappen!" you scream. you leap off the ground, legs quickly wrapping around his waist.

his arms wrap around your torso, just holding you close to his body. "i'm so proud of you," you cry into his already wet neck. you wrap your arms around his shoulders tighter. "i fucking told you."

he doesn't even know what to think. his mind is in a jumble of thoughts. it's undeniable that you had pushed him to his best this season. just having you there, reassuring him every single weekend. even when he crashed, even when he'd retired out of a race.

your legs slowly drop back down to the ground, and he finally gets a good look at your face. for some reason, you're just as sweaty as he is. the ponytail on your head is falling apart and the makeup running down your face almost makes him laugh.

then the excitement obviously hits you again. because you give him a firm and strong pat on his shoulder. "you proved them all wrong, max! you're a world champion!"

his chin is held high and his chest is puffed out. you'd never doubted him. it almost brings him to his knees how much support you had for him.

max is so full of emotion. the race, the title; you. you jump in your spot and clap, nose scrunching up in delight. "i told you this was your season! i knew it all along!"

and he just blurts it out. "(y/n), i love you."

you don't even hesitate. it's like you'd been waiting around to say it too. "i'm so fucking proud of you. i love you."

[devilstruly]

FRI(END)S -

- 'let's put the end in friends'

pairing (drumroll please) - jason todd x f.reader

includes - mutual pining, best friend dick grayson, batfam being nosy as shit, reader is kind of camera shy/insecure, jealous jason but in a cute way, angry confession (personal fav), mild angst but with a happy ending obvi, swearing, briefly mentioned smut (like one sentence at the end) + anything i might've missed

a/n - hi hello...idk what to say honestly. this was a very random idea i got at like 3am and i can just hope that you guys will like it. also my characteristics of the fam are solely based on the webtoon. yes the title is inspired by taehyung's single what about it

@dreamingaboutsakuratrees this one's for you (and everyone else who voted on that poll) <3

'Yes! Yes, that's perfect! Gosh, the camera absolutely loves you two!'

'Thanks, Delilah ~'

Dick sends the photographer a wink, paired with that signature grin of his, and she nearly falls on her ass. You roll your eyes at the scene affectionately, focused on fixing your hair and checking your makeup for the nth time in the past hour.

'Will you quit it?'

Beside you, your best friend whines and you swat him away with your hand, eyes never leaving the mirror.

'I'm sorry! I just wanna make sure it looks good!'

'You look beautiful. You're doing great, you just need to relax. Focus on me, yeah?'

It's honestly impossible to say no to those eyes, you've learned that a long while ago. The fact that he knows the effect he has doesn't help either.

The photoshoot goes by in a blur. You've changed at least five outfits, done the couple shoots, done the single ones, had a lunch break, etc etc. Throughout the day you learn that the crew that works for Gotham Gazette is actually quite nice, which helped ease your nerves immensely.

Now six hours later, you're sitting in your comfortable clothes, in the passenger seat of Dick's car, on the familiar road towards the Wayne Mansion.

As soon as you step through the door you're greeted with a flash of purple.

'How was it?! Tell me everything! When will the cover be out?! What did you wear?! Who did you see?!'

Stephanie looks as if she's about to burst and simultaneously split her face in half with her grin.

'It went...well, it went.'

Beside you Dick rolls his eyes so hard you could almost hear the gesture.

'Don't listen to her, it was great. She was great.'

'Stoppppp!'

You immediately hide your face in your hands, much to the man's amusement. One of Dick's arms wraps around your shoulders and the three of you head for the library.

'Well, well, well, if it isn't Gotham's power couple ~'

'Gross. Everybody knows they are mere friends.'

'We know. But the rest of Gotham is skeptical.'

'You are hallucinating, Drake. This is why you should stop drinking multitudinous of coffee.'

'Listen here you little shit-'

'O-kay!'

Dick, as always, steps in between the two brothers, effectively averting what could result in another prank war between the two. And it's not even prank season yet.

'Damian, you and I need to discuss that plan for tonight, right?'

'What are you talking ab-'

'The sooner we start the better!'

With that the two dissappear from the room, a very confused Damian letting himself be led by a beaming Dick.

Allowing yourself to feel the tiredness from everything you've done today, you plop on the now empty seat on the couch and sigh deeply.

'Cookie?'

'Thanks, Cass.'

You smile gratefully at the girl, sinking into the cushions more and more while chewing on the chocolate chip cookie.

'Sooo...'

Duke begins, the suspicious tone causing you to raise a brow before he continues.

'...When do we get to see the pictures?'

With this, every pair of eyes in the room turns to you, and you have to avoid the urge to groan.

'The actual magazine comes out in a week. But they'll email us the pictures the day after tomorrow I think.'

'I can't wait to see them! I bet you and Dick had so much chemistry in the photos!'

'Honestly, next to him I don't think anyone will notice me.'

'Of course they will! Especially if you did a couple shoot and got all close and-'

A loud slam interrupts Steph and her rambling and all of you turn to look at a very annoyed Jason. Which, to be fair, is just normal Jason.

He's silent when he stands up and walks across the room, hands stuffed in his pockets. If you had to guess, you'd say he was avoiding eye-contact too.

'Awkward...'

'Not helping Duke.'

- a few days later -

Everyone is sitting in the living room, crowded around Tim's computer, with you and Dick in the middle.

'Jason!'

Dick chirps as soon as he sees his brother enter the room.

'Come look at the photos!'

'No thanks.'

That was the second time that week that Jason refused to look you in the eyes and downright ignored your existence. But you knew better than to press Jason Todd.

Besides, maybe it wasn't even personal.

-

This was definitely personal.

You haven't talked to Jason in days, and it was driving you insane. The worst part is that you have no idea what the fuck you did.

So naturally, as one does, you'll ask him about it. Deciding that it's best to do it after patrol, particularly after the two of you took down some thugs together and were left alone, you refuse to go back home until you two work this out.

'See you tomorrow.'

'Jason.'

Red Hood stops dead in his tracks, and despite his back being turned to you, you can see the tension in his shoulders.

'This needs to stop.'

'I have no idea what-'

'Cut the bullshit, Jay. Why the fuck have you been avoiding me?'

He inhales deeply, mustering up the courage to turn around and face you. Your arms are crossed in front of your chest, accompanied with a very annoyed glare.

'I'm waiting.'

'It's nothing that concerns you.'

His answer makes you at least five times more furious and you scoff.

'Oh yeah? Well I beg to differ. I think I deserve to know why my friend has spent an entire week actively avoiding me.'

Due to his helmet you can't see it, but Jason rolls his eyes in annoyance.

'Why do you care, anyway? I'd say Richard has been keeping you busy.'

This makes you splutter, completely catching you of guard. His words are on repeat in your mind as you try to piece two and two together.

'What the fuck does Dick have to do with any of this?!'

'You tell me!'

Both of your voices echo off the empty walls in the alleyway before a thick silence takes over. Jason takes off his helmet and places it on a nearby fire escape so he can run a hand through his hair.

You watch him, still mildly annoyed, but the sight of his face welcoming nonetheless. And then he looks up and you feel an arrow shoot right through your heart.

His green eyes are soft, dare you say pleading, when they meet your own.

'I-' He takes a deep breath. 'It's the damn photoshoot.'

Before you can ask him to elaborate he's already going off, arms flying every which way with gestures he uses to emphasize his points.

'All I've been hearing for days has been about you and Dick looking all couple-y and what not. I mean you looked gorgeous, honestly why would anyone pay attention to him when you're right there, but god was it getting annoying.'

You have to blink a few times before your brain catches up with his words. Much to his dismay, you don't soften, if anything you look even more pissed now.

'I still don't understand why you've been avoiding me.'

'Because I fucking like you!'

The volume of his words startles you and you swear he was heard a couple blocks away.

'You what now-'

Jason takes a step closer to you.

'I-'

Another step.

'-like-'

Another step.

'-you.'

He's gotten so close to the point of cornering you against a wall, the intensity behind his eyes rendering you unable to look away. You allow yourself a few silent moments to simply appreciate his beauty this close before putting him out of his misery. By your standards at least.

'So this whole time you've just been jealous?'

It takes all of your willpower not to laugh when he deadpans.

'I never took you for a jealous guy to be hones-'

'Shut the fuck up already and kiss me.'

'Yessir ~'

He groans at the term and you make a mental note to use it again later when you're at his apartment.

Who needs to sleep anyway?

[slu7formen]

Girl first of all I want to say that I'm OBSESSED with your writing I love it.

Second of all I would like to make a request about Luke so hear me out.

Luke and reader were in a relationship before he betrayed camp and they were head over heals for each other and then he stole the bolt and when Percy discovers he's the thief the reader is there feeling betrayed and specially heartbroken even though Luke ask her to go with him but she doesn't accept it because she's so loyal to camp and her friends.

Time passed and even if she wants to hate Luke she loves him more than anything. And Luke loves her too so instead of asking Annabeth to escape with him he asks reader and she accepts.

I want to see everything in here fluff, angst, everything you think about.

I hope you like this request and make it real for me because I've been having this idea for over a week.

Okay but I feel so bad ‘cause I totally forgot I had this story FULLY WRITTEN and READY to be published (‘cause I LOVED it), I’m so sorry angel, made you wait a lot more than just a week 🥺, but thanks for reading my stories <3

MDNI. luke castellan x fem!reader

warnings: luke´s a traitor, betrayal, use of yn, swearing, kinda angst (?, KISSING, lil book spoiler

₊˚⊹♡

The crackle and pop of the bonfire filled the air, a comforting contrast to the vibrant bursts of color exploding overhead. The annual fireworks display was in full swing, casting shadows on the faces of your friends huddled around the warm flames. It was a picture of peace, a moment of respite amidst the constant threat of monsters demigod drama.

You stole a glance at the empty space beside you. Luke, your boyfriend, had told you he'd just be back in a minute. A few minutes had turned into an eternity, but you chalked it up to his usual impulsiveness. He'd be back any minute, with his signature smile and an arm wrapped around you.

You knew it.

From the moment you met, you and Luke had been inseparable. You were his confidante, his anchor in the chaos of being a demigod and his messy life. He was your rock, always there to make you laugh, to understand the weight of your heritage in a way no one else could.

The warmth of the fire danced on your skin, but a shiver snaked down your spine. Something felt off. The chatter of your friends seemed muted, replaced by a dull ache in your chest. You couldn’t deny the way you noticed how Luke has been acting lately. So weird and distant towards you the last couple days. You loved him, fiercely and unconditionally. You'd been there for him through thick and thin, especially after his quest left a jagged scar across his cheek and a hollowness in his eyes.

But then he suddenly just, snapped.

A memory surfaced in you , sharp and unwelcome. It had been months ago, a conversation in the darkness of his cabin in a particular cold night. Luke, his eyes filled with a desperate fervor, had confessed his anger towards the gods, his belief that they were cruel and neglectful parents. He'd spoken of tricking the Olympians, joining forces with the Titans to fight for a better life for all demigods.

The anger in his voice, the glint of rebellion in his eyes, had scared you. The scar on his face, a reminder of his failed quest, seemed to burn brighter that night.

You understood his anger. The gods were far from perfect, their neglect and cruelty evident in countless demigod lives. He'd begged you to join him, his voice filled with a desperate hope. But you'd refused, your loyalty to Camp Half-Blood and your friends unwavering. You had spent hours talking him through it as you held his hand, reminding him of all the good the gods had done, no matter how flawed they might be. He'd looked lost at the time, seeking comfort in your touch. You'd thought you'd reached him, extinguished that spark of rebellion.

You really believed that conversation was long forgotten. But there was a reason why you remembered it.

Some movement at the edge of the woods caught your eye. But it wasn't the boy you were expecting. Percy, his face pale and etched with worry, practically stumbled into the fireplace, his chest heaving and his grip tight on Riptide.

A pang of concern shot through you. "Percy?" you called out, concern lacing your voice. You pushed yourself off the ground, walking towards him. "What happened? Where's Luke?"

Percy hesitated, his eyes filled with a storm of emotions. Shit, should he tell you? His silence was a hammer blow to your gut. You knew, with a chilling certainty, that something was terribly wrong.

"What?" you choked out, the question barely a whisper, expecting some kind of answer from the blonde boy, but nothing came from his trembling lips. The air felt dense, with a truth you desperately wanted to deny. You saw Luke getting into the woods with Percy, you saw it. And now, he was nowhere to be seen.

Then, it clicked. A cold, horrifying truth began to dawn on you.

He lied.

Without a word, you pushed Percy aside and started running, towards the woods. Your heart hammered against your ribs, like a trapped bird desperate to escape. You plunged into the darkness of the forest, the path you'd walked countless times with Luke now leading you into the unknown.

"Luke!" you screamed, your voice raw with anger and despair. You wove through the trees, the undergrowth tearing at your camp shirt, but you didn't care. You had to find him, to confront him, to understand why he'd chosen this path, if he chose it, why he'd lied to you.

But with each passing minute, hope crashed over you. The forest grew denser, the silence broken only by the rustle of leaves and the frantic beat of your own heart. There was no sign of Luke, no echo of his footsteps, no smell, no sense of his presence, only the chilling truth hanging heavy in the air.

He was gone.

He had left.

You sank to your knees, the weight of betrayal crushing you as the first tears you ever cried for Luke Castellan, started to fall. The man you loved, the person you'd trusted with your life, had chosen darkness over everything you held dear. He had chosen Kronos over you.

Grief, a cold and relentless serpent, coiled around your heart. And that feeling never seemed to leave.

The year that followed was a blur of sadness and a desperate attempt at normalcy. The silence from Luke was deafening. Not a single Iris-message, not a single sign of the one who once, was your boyfriend.

You knew you wouldn´t be able to return to Camp, at least not for now. Every corner held a ghost of Luke's smile, every sword clang a reminder of his battles and his betrayal. Your friends, the true ones, bless their hearts, tried everything to cheer you up from a distance, but their efforts felt like trying to pick up the pieces of a broken glass in the sea.

You opted to stay home that summer. But even there, away from the prying eyes and hushed whispers, escape from Luke's betrayal seemed impossible. Messages and news found you no matter where you hid. News of Luke leading a rogue army aboard a stolen cruise ship, rumors of him serving as Kronos's right hand while the Titan slumbered – it all reached your ears.

The nights were the worst. The darkness mirrored the hollowness within you. Tears would stain your pillow as you relived the events leading up to his betrayal. You once seemed to dream about seeing him again, and now you only screamed when you saw his face in your nightmares.

The memory of his touch, the warmth of his smile, the nights you spent loving each other with the sheets tangling in your legs, all felt like cruel illusions now. Yet, a part of you, a stubborn, illogical part, still clung to the love you once shared.

And Gods, did you try to keep yourself as busy as possible. You threw yourself into your studies and little courses here and there, seeking solace in facts and logic. You even began working, a boring but well payed summer job. Yet, the pain lingered, a dull ache that refused to subside.

The more you tried to banish these visions, the more vivid they became. You missed him like a starving man craved a feast, a yearning that gnawed at your insides and threatened to consume you. Frustration gnawed at you. How could you still love someone who'd betrayed you so utterly? How could your heart still ache for a man who chose war over you? The questions echoed endlessly within you, a relentless chorus fueling your self-conscious.

How could you be so weak?

These consuming questions were your companions for a whole year. But as the second summer after Luke's betrayal rolled around, a shift occurred within you. The raw, agonizing pain began to dull, replaced by a quiet resolve.

Finally, you decided it was time to take back control again. Camp Half-Blood called, a familiar haven among the storm. You returned a changed person. The vibrant smile that once adorned your face was a ghost, replaced by a guarded expression that spoke about the pain you harbored in silence. The camp's familiar energy felt hollow, a constant reminder of the happiness you'd lost.

Training became your sole solace. You'd disappear into the arena for hours, your celestial bronze sword a blur as you cleaved through training dummies, each swing fueled by a potent cocktail of grief and anger.

Exhaustion became your closest companion too. You pushed yourself to the limits of your endurance, hoping to find oblivion at the bottom of an empty fuel tank. But sleep, when it finally came, offered no escape. You'd dream of him, leading his army of rogue demigods, his eyes filled with a fanatical zeal that chilled you to the bone. And in those dreams, you'd see yourself, standing beside him, not out of loyalty to his cause, but out of a desperate yearning for the boy you once loved, still love.

In the quiet moments, when your friends weren't around, the dam would break. You'd collapse onto your cool and empty bed, tears streaming down your face, a raw, primal sob escaping your lips. The memory of Luke was no joy anymore, it haunted you like a specter.

You hated yourself for the traitorous flicker in your heart, the desperate, illogical yearning for him. It wasn't the war that tempted you; it was him.

You hated how much you missed him.

The scent of rain clung to the humid night air and to you like a second skin as you zipped up your duffel bag. Another summer at Camp Half-Blood loomed, promising a bittersweet mix of nostalgia and pain, but more training. The worst was yet to come, so you needed to be ready.

New York City, with its cacophony of car horns and the anonymity of millions, had become your refuge these past few months. In Manhattan, the memories of Luke seemed to hold less power for some weird reason, their edges dulling with the passage of time. You'd spent the past months in this tiny apartment, the silence deafening compared to the constant hum of life at camp.

Just then, a sharp rap on the door shattered the silence of your apartment. It was past midnight, an unusual time for visitors.

Adrenaline surged through you. Months of living fully alone had honed your senses. You'd become acutely aware of the city's underbelly – the flickering shadows that could hide monsters thanks to the ever-present mist. You'd seen them stalking the streets, stalking you, their true forms hidden to them mortals, an unsettling feeling crawling up your spine whenever their paths crossed yours. They never attacked, but their chilling presence followed you like a phantom.

Grabbing your necklace, you asked, "Yes?"

Silence. You weren't taking any chances. Pulling down at the pendant once, the necklace morphed into your celestial bronze dagger.

You took a step, two. Could it really be a monster? Could it really be some creature trying to get to you, by knocking on the door? With a shaky breath, you cracked the door open just enough to peek through the gap, hiding the dagger behind your back.

The sight that greeted you stole the air from your lungs.

Standing on your doorstep, bathed in the harsh glow of the hallway light, was Luke. His dark hair was windswept, his face etched with a gauntness that hadn't been there before, but his eyes – those were the same eyes that had haunted your dreams for months. They held a desperate plea, a flicker of the boy you once loved struggling to break through the hardened shell of the man he'd become.

“Luke?”

The silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken words and a tangled web of emotions. Time seemed to warp in that hallway, a single moment stretched into an eternity. Luke looked different, yes. The carefree boy you knew had been replaced by a man hardened by experience, his features etched with lines that spoke of battles fought and burdens carried. But his eyes, those brown eyes that had once held a mischievous twinkle, now held a deeper sadness that mirrored your own.

"Hi" Luke finally said, his voice raspy.

You stood speechless, the dagger still clutched tightly in your hand. Years of longing warred with the fresh wounds of betrayal. You wanted to scream at him, to unleash the torrent of hurt and anger that suddenly washed over you. But something held you back, a flicker of curiosity, maybe.

"Um, can I come in?" he continued, his posture pleading despite his attempt at nonchalance.

Jesus. Was that all he had to say? After everything, after what he did, all he could muster was a request to enter your apartment? A tide of anger threatened to drown you. Did he not understand the gravity of what he'd done? Did he not realize the pain he'd caused? But you forced your thoughts down. You weren't a child anymore, throwing tantrums wouldn't solve anything.

"Are you armed?" you asked, your voice flat, devoid of any warmth.

Luke flinched at your question, a flicker of pain crossing his features. "You think I wanna hurt you?" he countered, his tone defensive.

"Last time I saw you," you spat back, your voice laced with bitterness, "was three years ago, and I know your little monsters are keeping an eye on me. The first thing I'm supposed to think about is whether you want to hurt me or not."

He sighed, a long, weary exhale. Unzipping his jacket, he turned slowly, patting down his pockets before turning back to you. His eyes, once alive with mischief and love, were now filled with a desperate sincerity. "See? No weapons. Just me."

You studied him, a battle raging within you. One part of you wanted to slam the door, to let him know that he wasn't welcome. Yet, another part, a smaller, more vulnerable part, couldn't help but cling to the flicker of hope that flickered amongst the ashes of your love.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you stepped aside, allowing a sliver of space for him to enter. "Fine" you said, your voice devoid of warmth. "But you better have a good reason to come here"

Luke hesitated for a beat before stepping inside. He closed the door softly behind him, the sound echoing through the tense silence. He stood there awkwardly with his hands in his pockets, his eyes scanning the room, landing finally on the packed bags besides the tv.

"You're heading back to camp?" he asked.

You flipped the dagger in your hand, and the celestial bronze morphed back into the golden necklace. "What do you want?" you repeated, your voice still sharp, a shield against the emotions swirling within you.

Luke stood awkwardly in the doorway, the once carefree boy replaced by a man burdened by the weight of his choices. His leather jacket seemed to hang heavy on his broad shoulders.

"I…" he started, then stopped, seemingly unsure how to proceed. He cleared his throat, the sound scratchy and unfamiliar. "You look different" he finally managed, the words tumbling out awkwardly.

You scoffed, a humorless sound that surprised even you.

"Look, yn" he finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper, "I wanna talk, okay? I know what I did was wrong. I know I hurt you."

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "You could say that again."

His fingers twitched at your bitterness, but pressed on. "I came here because..." He hesitated again, seemingly wrestling with an inner turmoil. "Because I-"

Frustration bubbled up within you. This cryptic approach, this lack of honesty, it was infuriating. "Because you what, Luke?" you demanded, your voice laced with a sharp edge. "Because you decided to grace me with your presence after leading a rebellion against the gods? Or maybe because you just wanted to see if I'm still waiting for you?"

You watched his face harden, the vulnerability replaced by a familiar defiance.

"Don't twist this" he snapped, his voice firm. "I came here because..." He took a deep breath, his eyes locking with yours. "Because I miss you, yn. I miss us."

The air crackled with a tension so thick you could almost taste it.

You took a slow step towards him, then another. He took notes of yourself as you did. The way you had grown internally was so intense that he could sense it everywhere. He might have betrayed you, but that only helped you get on your feet stronger, grow stronger. Become the warrior he always knew you were.

Then, in a move as instinctive as it was fierce, your hand lashed out. The slap connected with a stinging crack, the sound echoing through the apartment like a thunderclap. Luke's head snapped to the side, a crimson handprint blooming on his cheek. Shame flickered in his eyes as he scoffed, quickly replaced by a dull acceptance.

He deserved it, that much was clear.

"How dare you?” you spat, your voice shaking with barely controlled fury, "How fucking dare you come back here after what you've done? After leading a rebellion against the gods, after putting everyone we care about at risk? After betraying me?"

Luke took a shaky breath, running a hand over the burning mark on his face. "I'm sorry” he said, his voice low and ragged. "I'm so sorry. I know I hurt you, and I know a simple apology won't erase the pain or fix things. But you have to believe me, I never meant for things to get this bad"

He stepped towards you, his hands outstretched in a placating gesture, but you flinched back, the space between you a tangible barrier. "Don't touch me" you warned, your voice laced with ice.

He lowered his hands, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

“I know you hate me for what I´ve done. For joining Kronos, I-“

"You think this is all about Kronos?" you cut him off, your voice shaking with barely contained fury. "You think the reason my heart has been broken these past years is because you joined a fucking Titan?"

Luke remained silent, the weight of your words pressing down on him like a collapsing mountain. He knew better.

"This is about what you did to me, Luke" you choked out, tears welling in your eyes. "I was with you, all the time. I was your girlfriend! And you betrayed me. You left me alone” your voice broke so hard that you had to take a second to swallow the big gulp that was forming in your throat. “Everyone at camp looked at me after what you did," you choked out. "They either felt sorry for me, or they insulted me, saying that I was still loyal to you, that I was a traitor."

You closed your eyes for a moment, the pain etched on your face a stark reminder of the devastation he'd wrought. "You were the most important person in my life" you cried, your voice raw and vulnerable. "But you? You let Kronos fill your head with empty promises, and just like that, you forgot about us."

The truth felt like a bitter pill to swallow. He opened his mouth to speak.

"I asked you to come with me" he finally whispered, his voice thick with regret. "I gave you the chance to leave with me."

"And even after I said no," you countered, your voice trembling like the finger that was now pointing at his chest, "you still left. You threw me away like shit. And do you know what the worst part is?" Tears streamed down your face, tracing a path through the dust of old heartache. "That as much as I try, I can't seem to hate you."

A sob escaped your lips, shattering the fragile dam you'd built around your emotions. "I still love you, Luke" you confessed. "Even though it's a love that fills me with pain, it's still there. I hate myself because I dream about you, about the way things used to be. But when I don't, I feel like a piece of me is missing."

You looked up at him, your eyes brimming with tears and a raw vulnerability that left Luke speechless.

What had he done?

"I hate myself because I can't help but pray for your safety, even though you never seemed to care about mine. I hate myself because even after everything, I still love you, Luke."

Your heart felt like a shattered kaleidoscope, a million shards of love, anger, and pain reflecting back at you in a distorted reality. You walked and sank onto the couch, burying your face in your hands as sobs racked your body.

Luke, his heart heavy with a remorse sharper than any weapon, watched you crumble. The carefree girl he fell in love with was gone, replaced by a woman etched with the scars of his own actions. Hesitantly, he reached out, placing a hand on your back as he sat down next to you, a gesture of comfort that felt more like a branding iron on his guilt.

"yn” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "I still love you too."

You didn't respond, the sobs coming in ragged gasps as your body struggled to contain the storm within.

"I know I left you" he continued, his voice cracking slightly. "And you didn't deserve it. But… I was so lost, so angry. Kronos promised me power, a solution to all the problems I saw. He convinced me that Olympus was corrupt, that the gods didn't care about half-bloods like us. And when you said no, he-, he told me to leave you behind, said that it would be easier for everyone…"

His voice trailed off. Easier for who? Easier for him, perhaps, to sever the ties that bound him, to plunge headfirst into a rebellion fueled by manipulated ideals.

"But it wasn't" he choked out, a tear escaping his eye, carving a glistening path down his cheek. "Every day, every step I took… it was a constant reminder of what I'd lost. The guilt was eating me alive, yn, you have to believe me”. His hands desperately reached for yours, trying to get your fingers to intertwine by placing his over yours.

Tears welled up in his own eyes. "I regret everything. I mean it. I don't want to do this anymore."

You finally lifted your head, your eyes red-rimmed and brimming with unshed tears. Luke looked different to you now, the bravado and arrogance gone, replaced by a vulnerability that mirrored your own.

"Don't want to do what?" you asked, your voice hoarse.

"This” he gestured vaguely to himself, but you didn’t quite catch it. "Following Kronos. Helping him rise to power. It's wrong. I can see that now."

“Little late to that, isn’t it?” you blurted out.

He took a deep breath, his expression resolute. "yn, there's a reason I came to you. A reason I risked Kronos' trust in me." He paused, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Kronos wants me to become his host."

And the world seemed to suddenly stop. You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. Your mind raced, trying to process what he had just said. Luke, your Luke, becoming a vessel for the monstrous Titan?

"What?" you croaked, fear coating your voice like frost. Your eyes darted around, searching for a way out, a solution, anything. But Luke wouldn't meet your gaze, his jaw clenched tight, a storm of emotions brewing beneath the surface. "No. No, he can't. It's not possible."

The thought of him, Luke, being consumed by Kronos, twisted your insides into knots.

Luke, however, seemed to gather his resolve. "Yes, it is" he said, his voice low and strained. "There are things you don't know, yn. Things I've done."

A cold dread gripped your stomach, a physical manifestation of the terror that clawed at your insides. Your mind raced, desperate for answers. "Then tell me" you only managed to say. "Luke, what have you done?"

He hesitated, looking around as if afraid someone might be listening. "There's no time now" he finally said, his voice tight with urgency. "But I promise I will explain everything. That's not why I'm here."

Taking a deep breath, he dared to reach out, his hand gently grasping yours, finally. The warmth of his touch sent a jolt through you, a stark contrast to the chilling fear that gripped you.

He called your name, his voice softening. "Come with me" he said.

You only feel capable of frowning your brows in confusion. "Go where?" you asked, your voice wary.

"Anywhere" he said, like a plea. "Let's run away, together. It can be just you and me again"

He leaned closer, the air around him crackling with a tension that mirrored the storm within you. As his forehead rested against yours, a jolt of electricity shot through you. It was a familiar warmth, a spark that had ignited countless stolen kisses and whispered secrets back when your world wasn't teetering on the brink of war. His other hand cupped your cheek, the touch a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside you. His hand, usually warm and comforting, felt cool against your burning skin, a physical reminder of the distance that had grown between you. Yet, despite the chill, a wave of longing washed over you, a yearning for the simple comfort of his touch.

But reason tugged at you, a voice of caution in the midst of the storm. "But Luke," you stammered, pulling away slightly, "If you escape, Kronos will come for you. He'll come for us, and-,"

"I don't care" he interrupted, his voice resolute, yet laced with a tremor that betrayed his bravado. It was as if he was on the precipice, teetering between defiance and the vulnerability of a man on the verge of breaking. "I'll fight everything that comes for us. And if the war happens... I'll fight. I'll fight for everyone, I’ll fight for you. I'm not losing you again, yn."

His words resonated deep within you, a desperate echo of the love you still harbored for him, a love you thought you'd buried beneath layers of anger and sadness. You saw the fear in his eyes, a fear that you sadly shared, but beneath it, a flicker of something else – a raw, desperate hope. And as you looked at him, a wave of relief washed over you.

The relief of knowing he wasn't entirely lost, that a part of the Luke you loved still existed.

"I love you" he confessed again, his voice trembling.

Looking into his eyes, a storm of emotions swirling within them, the truth resonated with you. "I love you too" you whispered, the words tumbling from your lips like a long-awaited confession.

The world did indeed, stop. The rain, a relentless symphony against the window pane, faded into a distant murmur. The thunders became a muffled echo. In that moment, the only reality was the space between you and Luke, charged with the unspoken electricity of your confessions.

He leaned in further, a hesitant question in his eyes. A flicker of fear danced in their depths, a scared boy seeking forgiveness beneath the warrior's facade. You watched him, a bittersweet ache blooming in your chest.

With a sigh that trembled on your lips, you closed the distance. Your lips met in a hesitant touch, a tentative exploration of a forgotten familiarity. Three years of longing, of unspoken words and simmering emotions, poured into that kiss. It was sweeter than you'd dared to imagine, a warmth that spread from your lips and drizzled down your chest.

Unlike the passionate encounters of your past, this felt different; like kissing him for the first time. Luke's lips moved against yours with a reverence that sent shivers down your spine. He held back, his desperate desire tempered with a respect that surprised you. You knew him.

But then, you yielded. Your lips parted, a silent invitation, and his tongue met yours in a dance as old as time. A full, heavy and angry thunderclap erupted outside, a jarring contrast to the intimacy unfolding on the couch. But you paid it no mind, lost in the whirlpool of rediscovered affection.

Your arms encircled his neck, a desperate hold. He, in turn, cupped your waist, his touch lingering on the curve of your hip as he gently lowered you onto the soft cushion. His body hovered above yours. His lips, however, remained glued to yours, a relentless exploration that spoke of a love both fierce and fragile.

The kiss deepened, a slow burn that threatened to consume you both. You felt the familiar rhythm of his heart against yours, a counterpoint to the frantic beat of your own. It was a melody of second chances, of unspoken apologies and nascent hope.

His hand trailed down your back, teasingly brushing under your shirt, sending shivers dancing across your skin. You arched into his touch, a wordless plea for more. But just then, he pulled away, his breath ragged, his eyes a storm of conflicting emotions.

His voice, a husky murmur against your skin, sent shivers down your spine. "I missed this so much," he whispered, his lips trailing down the delicate column of your neck and the dip of your collarbone. His warm breath mingled with your own, a heady mix of emotions swirling around you.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, the familiar texture a stark reminder of the past you both desperately clung to. He reached for your pulse, slowly sucking in before letting it pop.

"I wanted to feel you every night" he confessed. "Every night, I dreamt of you." His words were a stark contrast to the cold, distant Luke you saw in your dreams, the only vivid memory you’ve had of him the past years.

"Luke" you whispered, your voice barely audible as you tried to speak.

He didn't stop. His hand drifted down your torso, his fingers brushing against the exposed skin of your lower tummy. Every touch felt like a brand, a searing reminder of what you had lost and the uncertainty that lay ahead.

"It was a mistake" he said, his voice thick with regret. "A big, fucking mistake. Leaving you, betraying you-, it was the biggest mistake of my life. My life doesn't make any sense without you."

With a strangled sound, Luke deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a desperation that mirrored your own. You clung to him, a drowning sailor grasping at a lifeline. The scent of leather that clung to him was intoxicating, a familiar anchor in this storm of emotions.

"Luke" you managed to gasp between kisses, a flicker of reason breaking through the haze of desire. You needed more than just words, needed a binding promise, something concrete to hold onto if you were to take this leap of faith.

He stared at you, his eyes a storm of emotions – desire, confusion, and a flicker of something that might have been annoyance. But before he could respond, you pressed on.

"Swear on it, Luke" you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "Swear on the River Styx” you repeat. Luke’s eyes dart back and forth, from your lips, to your eyes, to filling up with confusion. “I’m not-,” you cut yourself off as you feel your eyes filling with tears again. You bit your tongue before speaking, “I’m not letting you hurt me like this again"

You knew it was selfish, a desperate attempt to safeguard your heart. But Luke was here, finally, after all this time. You craved the warmth of his touch, the comfort of his presence. The thought of letting him go again, of enduring another betrayal, was unbearable. Yet, a part of you, still scarred from the past, craved a guarantee, an oath sworn on the most powerful river in the Underworld. It was dangerous, yes, but did you care?

Did he care?

Luke's expression hardened. The River Styx, held a weight that couldn't be ignored. The river he already bathed himself in. It was a binding vow, a promise etched in the very fabric of existence.

He looked at you, his eyes searching yours for a flicker of doubt, a hint of manipulation. But all he saw was the vulnerability, the fear – a vulnerability born from the scars he himself had inflicted.

"I swear on the River Styx" he said, his voice low and solemn, each word heavy with the weight of the oath. "I swear I won’t ever leave you. I swear I love you. I swear I'll fight for you, for us, with every breath in my lungs."

[malereadermaniac]

Relationship headcanons ~ Raihan x Male Reader

Random relationship headcannons with Raihan word count: 830 m!reader (no genitalia mentioned) / FDNI

The media had a field day when some paparazzi photo got leaked of you two out on a date. Even though Raihan is extremely vain and social media-present - you're not, and your boyfriend does nothing but respect that. But once that picture was on on every gossip page on Instagram, you two decided to lean into it. If anything, it would boost Raihan's popularity more!

You now feature in videos from time to time and you even have a special segment in his match videos of you cheering him on. Raihan loves that he gets to show you off now, every single one of his instagram posts has you in it, he has about 3 highlights of just you - it's very sweet.

The region also loves you. They originally had a lot of questions (which Raihan answered in a Q&A, of course) but now everyone sees you and Raihan as THEE Galar couple - people wanna see you just as much as they do Raihan!

The muscular gym leader loves to treat you like a Prince, he figures that if he has all this money from being a gym leader and an influencer that he should put it to good use on you.

Dates almost every night, and if you two can't be bothered to go out, then you call it a movie night and cuddle until one of you falls asleep in the others' arms.

Dates with Raihan are also all inclusive - this man pays for everything! It started with your first couple of dates being treats on him, which you would protest and demand to split the bill. But later on, you slowly let Raihan pay for your dates more and more - the conversation usually going something like:

"Is today's treat on you?" Already expecting the answer to be a yes

Raihan just smugly nodding with a small smirk in the hottest way ever

"You're buying?" You ask again with a small smile forming on your face subconsciously

"Of course, love" Raihan says with his signature grin after he swallows the huge mouth of food he was munching on

You then treating him in your own way and kissing Raihan's cheek cutely, making the grown man blush.

Now that the two of you are so deep into your relationship (4 years to be exact), you don't even bother to bring a form of payment with you on dates. But you still make sure to ask Raihan if today's treat is on the house, knowing all you have in your bag is chapstick and lube.

It boosts Raihan's ego to tell you that he's paying for you, who are you to deny your boyfriend such childish pride?

The two of you pokemon battle to decide most things, or just whenever you feel like it really. And even though Raihan promises he doesn't hold back, it is strange that you beat the 8th gym leader of Galar every time the two of you scrap.

Raihan also gifted you an Eevee on your one year anniversary saying that "just like an eevee can turn into everything, you turned my life into everything" - you never expected the strong and popular Raihan to be such a sappy man! That eevee is still on your team, your ace and partner pokemon (eeveelution). And even though it's YOUR pokemon, Raihan loves it just as much.

On the topic of pokemon and battles, not only do you support your boyfriend at every single one of his matches, but you two are the Double Battle champions at the Wyndon Battle Tower - a title you two have held for a while now. You two have such great synergy during battles that you rarely have to talk to understand eachother, one of you just has to tell your pokemon to attack with a certain move and the other will know what to do next!

The biggest fan of your relationship is Leon by far! He acted as your bodyguard when the paparazzi photo leaked, keeping crazy fans and more media representatives away from you - sacrificing his time to answer their silly questions about his championship in order to give you a chance to slip away.

He's also the one who forced Raihan to actually ask you out, the charismatic man actually being a wet wipe when it came to communicating his feelings to you!

And to this day, Leon is willing to 3rd wheel you and your boyfriend - and it isn't even awkward. The two of you hang out like close friends do.

You couldn't be happier than you are with Raihan

He treats you like a God and respects you and your boundaries no matter what. And he isn't too hard on the eyes either!

You ground him when his adrenaline junkie personality gets the best of him (especially during battles) and bring up his mood if he's ever feeling down for whatever reason - you're both the light of each others lives.

[dokries]

seventeen when their partner is lovey dovey with them on camera

pairing: seventeen x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, established relationship, idol!au (for both the members and reader)

word count: 2.3k

warnings: the public is okay with the relationships, all of seventeen is down bad, reader is kinda bold? not too much though, kisses and hand holding, hoshi says he’s a tiger like normal, mingyu and dino are bullied also like normal

author note: thank you so much for requesting, sweet anon ‎♡ i kinda got off track when it came to the request…so there’s little scenarios for each member and i hope that’s okay! i just had a little fun <3 lots of love and enjoy reading :>

masterlist

seungcheol (s.coups)

❧ if you were asked about your relationship with him and what you like about his personality, he would definitely try to keep a poker face (you are live after all) but fail very badly at it because the heart eyes he’s making at you are way too obvious, and the huge grin on his face that says “yeah, this is my partner.” isn’t helping.

❧ if the other members are near, they’d all roll their eyes and groan at how down bad the leader is and you’d just giggle.

❧ eventually, either you or someone else would have to say his name a few times before he remembers you’re on camera and he holds your hands in his as he whispers a promise of showering you with love later before answering whatever question was thrown at him.

❧ of course, he holds up his end of the deal he made you by giving you a tight hug when the shoot's over and peppers your face with kisses, all giddy over the fact that you said you loved him even if your relationship has been public for a while.

❧ “do you actually mean what you said earlier? because i meant every single word i said about you.”

jeonghan

❧ he’d share a glance with you and look away with a smile when you giggle and lean against his shoulder when someone said something funny.

❧ would be nonchalant about it, going back to whatever he was talking about with the only difference being a small smirk on his face that turns into a little bit of a smile when you interlock hands with him secretly.

❧ seungkwan would probably sigh, having seen this type of thing way too often at home, glaring at jeonghan to get his act together (as if jeonghan doesn't seem to be the most composed he possibly can be other than the slight redness to his ears because of how open you’re being)

❧ if he’s playing a game and you come up to even just smile at him, he would let out a sigh before gently touching the small of your back to move you away from him, whispering about how he needs to win and you’re not helping.

❧ “listen, i love you but you’re distracting me so you need to be over here. i need to win this skincare set for both of us–i mean, me and seungkwan of course! right, seungkwan?” (seungkwan’s not buying it)

jisoo (joshua)

❧ if you were walking from one location to another on set and grabbed his hand, swinging it as you walked, he would totally give you one of his signature eye smiles before looking around for any cameras nearby.

❧ if he couldn’t find any, he would quickly place a small kiss on your cheek, the thrill of potentially being caught causing the two of you to giggle. (in fact, you are caught, and caratland loves how sweet the two of you are once they see it in a behind the scenes clip, even if it’s not completely clear)

❧ if he does find a cameraperson coming up behind you, he would totally try to get their attention and raise your intertwined hands up and give a satisfied nod before looking at you with a big grin.

❧ when you squeeze his hand to get his attention on you, and not the camera when he starts talking about the scenery around the two of you (it’s a hallway), his gaze immediately turns to you, complete with a soft “hm?” and a head tilt. when you only smile, he chuckles softly before turning back to the camera and gives you a squeeze back.

❧ “hey, i saw no cameras so it should be okay! either way, the fans already know so you don’t need to worry.”

junhui (jun)

❧ even if you just pat his back encouragingly as he introduces himself on a variety show, he’ll either pause before continuing shortly after or stutter slightly on his words.

❧ would have that adorable laugh where his entire body laughs with him and smiles shyly as you hold his hand lightly, letting him know that you can let go if he wants you to (he would never).

❧ honestly, he doesn’t know what’s going on half the time and keeps whispering and asking what he needs to do in your ears, and when he gets caught by the other people on the show, he only smiles sheepishly, not wanting to admit it’s because he’s maybe a bit distracted by your smile in general, so he keeps stealing glances in your direction instead of paying attention.

❧ “oh, i’m sorry, what did you just say? i didn’t get the question.”

soonyoung (hoshi)

❧ he would totally put his head on top of yours if you leaned against him, tired after a game of futsal that took more out of you than you thought it would. the two of you would be sitting on the side of the turf, watching the others play, cheering for whichever team you liked better and soonyoung would play with your hands in the meantime.

❧ if you seemed genuinely exhausted, he would be the first one there to ask if you needed anything at all, and if your response was just to be with him, he would giggle before making sure the camera caught that (he needs to brag about his adorable partner, after all) and give you a hug before exclaiming about how sweaty you are while laughing so you know he’s just joking.

❧ “well, if you just need me…i’ll use all my tiger power to make sure you feel better! you can definitely trust me!”

wonwoo

❧ if you suddenly asked for his hand, he would look at you confused before giving it to you in a daze. once you keep a death grip on his hand, he slowly understands what you meant and nods to himself once before giving you a curt look as well.

❧ in general, he’s mostly calm when he’s around you but if you call him cute, he may just stop functioning for a few seconds before continuing with whatever he’s doing.

❧ usually doesn’t do skinship in general so when you initiate it, especially during a live broadcast, he’s genuinely confused and his ears heat up (depending on the setting, he may even let out a little giggle despite himself).

❧ “what are you—oh. … um, right, so about this question—”

jihoon (woozi)

❧ you leaning on his shoulder is more than enough for him to turn red because you're being so…open. of course, you usually do initiate skinship with him anyway by giving him a hug or a kiss on the cheek when he’s working in the studio but on camera, he feels a little bit embarrassed by how easily he gets red because of your fingers gently touching his in an attempt to hold them.

❧ shies away from you once someone else brings up the colour of his cheeks and it gets even more noticeable, which is the opposite effect he wants it to have. when you pout at him moving away, he just about melts back into your arms silently, secretly hating how much control you have over him (he really isn’t bothered by it as much as he probably should be).

❧ he’s so awkward after, and everyone just needs to bring up the way his face is tinted red to tease him on one of the rare occasions they can.

❧ “no, it’s just the lighting…i should move spots so it doesn’t seem like i'm too hot or something.”

seokmin (dokyeom)

❧ you’re on going seventeen and during a calm shooting—or as much as it’ll get when you’re with mostly hyperactive men and their partners—the staff start showing videos of the members’ partners where they each share something they love about their respective member, and you grab seokmin’s hand just before it’s his turn to see the video you had shot separately a few days before—it’s in age order, so you’re both expecting it when the screen turns black before your smiling face shows up.

❧ he’d either get super shy (by newjeans) and hide his face in your shoulder as he hears you praise him over and over again with a huge grin on your face, one that’s infectious to everyone around the two of you or he’d gasp and squeal like an anime school girl, his head whipping from the actual you to the on screen version as he slowly gets more red, especially when you look at the camera and make a heart with your arms over your head and say “doahae!”

❧ eventually, seokmin relaxes, leaning into your side calmly once his turn to get praised is over and make small comments or hype up the remaining younger members as his hand squeezes yours with a quiet thanks.

❧ also, you’re getting a huge hug as soon as he can give one to you. you have no choice in the matter (well, you do; seokmin would never force you into anything).

❧ “oh, sweetie…you’re too nice. doahae to you too!” (he looks like :D with a big grin on his face)

mingyu

❧ although this obviously depends on context, he’d definitely either be super cocky or giggly. there is no in between when it comes to you. 

❧ if it’s something similar to what just happened for seokmin, mingyu would be smirking, your praises fuelling his ego more than what’s needed (according to the other members, at least.) 

❧ would shrug and smile before hugging you for everything you’ve said about him, it being mostly about how much he cares for you. instead of cheering him on, his friends choose to boo him, and he frowns immediately, snuggling closer to you for support.

❧ “you’re the only one i can trust…i stopped believing in them a long time ago.” (when you say he does look a little silly, he starts to sulk, pushing you away slightly with a sigh) “you’re all traitors.”

minghao (the8)

❧ minghao is not phased by you caressing his hand as the two of you listen to game rules for what the programs are forcing you to play. like honestly, he smoothly takes your other hand in his like it’s nothing on camera, and you can’t help but swoon in your head. 

❧ despite this confidence that stems from the comfortable relationship the two of you have, he still can get a little flustered but he would show it off camera. 

❧ as soon as the staff lets everyone take a break in between filming, he looks over at you and giggles, squeezing your hand that hasn’t moved from its spot in his own hands, finally letting himself be off guard.

❧ alternatively, if you say something in chinese, like whisper bǎo bèi (baby) into his ear as you pass by him, he’d stumble on his own feet and sputter, even if you say it often outside of the public eye. he immediately turns red and can’t help but smile before clearing his throat in an effort to return to his normal composed self.

❧ of course, this wouldn’t be complete without the other members and people teasing minghao throughout the shoot, and his ears staying red really doesn’t help his case as he tries to gaslight convince everyone that nothing happened. 

❧ “what? no, no, you’ve got it all wrong–i’m perfectly fine! do you not see my face right now? i literally look the same as normal. be quiet, seungkwan.”

seungkwan

❧ speaking of seungkwan, this guy is somehow simultaneously smug and shy at the same time. he’d huff out a laugh if you complimented him with the smile on your face that he adores but his face would be red nonetheless. 

❧ if you kept going with your compliments—because there really is a lot you can talk about when it comes to him—he would wave it off with a “pshh stop it” before giggling and abruptly stopping to smack your shoulder because he’s flustered by you being so bold (though you’re really not; it’s just the camera being there changes things for him)

❧ despite the way he acts, he would smile in secret when he thinks no one is watching him before putting on a front when someone notices. 

❧ once they shoot ends or you get a break, he gives you a hug as soon as he can, and thanks you for the love you always show him. 

❧ “hey, i’m sorry for hitting you, i was just too…shy to do anything else. i love you lots, okay? you’re not allowed to forget it.” 

hansol (vernon)

❧ this guy is so hard to fluster, and i’m not even joking. 

❧ almost anything you do, whether it be compliments or a hug, will get you a series of nods before a high five in some cases.

❧ of course, you both call each other “dude” and “bro” because come on, it’s hansol vernon chwe. 

❧ the most you can probably get from him is his ears turning red after you aggressively compliment him or snuggle up to him for a while; that stuff means more to him then he’ll let on.

❧ however most of the time it’s just “thanks dude, appreciate it.” (i love him for it)

chan (dino)

❧ slightly similar to seungkwan because he’ll smile and chuckle with an “oh my god, stop it!” (he doesn’t want you to stop, ever.)

❧ he absolutely adores you and would look at you with the same look he had for seungcheol in that one clip, his eyes fond after you compliment him. 

❧ he’s also the type to give it back to you, saying that you’re much better than him, even if it’s not true. 

❧ however, we all know seventeen is out to get lee chan, and he would deadpan as soon as his members (aka seungkwan) starts booing him, snuggling closer to you instead for physical and moral support while pointing at his other members with a huff.

❧ “even if you all don’t love me, i know they do! and that’s all that matters.” (queue the fond look in his eyes again)

❧ (once you give him a kiss on the forehead as a sort of comfort, he would totally stick his tongue out at the members, your actions only proving the point he makes.)

[cherryredstars]

Pls pls pls miss Cherry I need other parts of Ribbons. I need a pt.3 cause I love that au. Something very fluffy super cute and introspective you know? I NEED IT thank you so much 🍒🎀

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: Suggestive, Hinted Intercourse, Talk of Past Intercourse, Fluff

Summary: They're well past the first date thing... right?

A/N: I missed them.

Unedited

Part 1 Part 2

You are not hearing him right.

You push yourself up, hand pressing into his naked chest as his arm and sheets fall off your bare body. His eyes momentarily drop to the soft skin that is revealed to him once again, pupils dilating. His eyes do a lousy job of running up your figure, getting stuck in different areas a bit longer than necessary. His eyes stare up at yours when you start talking.

"You know we've like... had sex before, right?"

Miguel doesn't need the reminder, his eyes falling back to your bare body, your taste and scent still fogging his brain. He won't ever forget that he's had such an honor. Multiple times.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

You give him an exasperated look, laying back down. Your hair fans over his shoulder, tickling the base of his neck. His arms wrap around you quickly, suffocating you in his body heat. His eyes shut as he breathes you in, a perfect combination of his cologne and your perfume. You turn to face him, wrapping your arms lazily around his shoulders and he peppers kisses along your naked shoulders.

"I think we're well past the whole going on a first date thing."

Miguel's brows furrow, and he stops his trails of small worship to look at your face. You try to soothe the wrinkles with your fingers, but he stubbornly holds firm.

"Who said?"

You roll your eyes playfully, a wave of deja vu hitting you. You smile gently at him, gently brushing his hair out of his face. It effectively smooths out his features, dissipating the bunched skin at his brow.

"Says my pair of panties you tried to hide before I walked into your room."

Miguel blushes, forcing his head back into the crook of your neck. He tries to distract you with small kisses and nips to your skin, but you only giggle.

"First off, I have no idea what you're talking about." He muffles against your skin, the burning of his skin revealing his lie. "And second, that doesn't mean I can't take my girl out somewhere nice."

You ignore the stampede of butterflies in your stomach, biting your lip to contain your smile. You slightly tug at his hair, pulling his face away from your neck. You peer down at him, placing a small kiss to the apple of his burning cheek.

"Do you even know how to plan a date?"

Miguel scoffs, rolling his eyes at you.

"Of course I do, I've had this planned for months."

You raise your brow, smiling wide.

"Months? We've only been a thing for like 3 weeks."

Miguel's cheeks burn once again, embarrassed about his slip-up. He rolls onto his back, throwing his arm over his face to hide how flustered you're making him.

"It's an exaggeration!"

You laugh, moving to lay on your stomach as you rest your chin on his chest. Miguel moves his arm just slightly to peer down at you, breath stalling at the pretty smile you're giving him.

"Yeah, sure it was." You tease, giving his chest a small kiss in an effort to calm him down. "But, I guess we can go on a little date."

Miguel gives you his signature lopsided smirk, tilting his head to give you a slow kiss. You reciprocate easily, humming against his lips before he flips you over. You giggle in between the kiss, smiling.

"Then you have yourself a date."

୨୧・・・・୨୧・・・・୨୧・・・・୨୧・・・・୨୧・・・・୨୧・・・・

You check yourself in the mirror one last time, reapplying your lip gloss.

You pucker your lips, leaning back and examining the final look. You hum in consideration, feeling that something is off. You lean further back, eyes squinting before they drop to your bare neck. You go to your dresser, quickly clasping the necklace you were gifted by a certain boy around your neck. You return to your mirror, nodding in approval right before your phone lights up.

You smile as you pick it up, holding it between your ear and shoulder as you grab your purse, back tracking to put in your lip gloss and spray yourself with your signature perfume.

"Bring a vase."

You pause, being met without a proper greeting.

"Hi! I am doing fantastic today. Thank you for asking!"

You can hear Miguel's chuckle, dark and slightly distorted over the speaker. You smile at the sound, setting your perfume down and looking around your room for a vase.

"Hi, pretty. How was your day?"

You smile wider, tone turning soft with affection.

"It was good, are you here? Why do I need a vase?"

"Just pulling up outside." Miguel speaks, the subtle sound of his gearshift moving following his words. "It's a surprise."

"Well," You huff, looking at the decorative vases you don't want to sacrifice for his mystery. "I don't have one."

You can hear his eye roll through the phone as he huffs.

"Yes you do. I promise it's not going to end up broken or something."

You groan, begrudgingly taking a ceramic vase and pressing it to your body, "That's it?"

Miguel hums on the other side of the phone, reassuring you none of your other precious decorations are necessary for what he has in mind. You quickly hang up, making your way outside of your building to find his car waiting for you out front. Miguel smiles as he sees you, taking the vase from your hands and tilting your chin up for a quick kiss before opening the door for you. You smile gratefully, sitting and buckling in before gently taking your vase back from him. He makes his way to his own door, getting in and beginning the drive to your date.

"So," you start, turning to look at him. "Where you taking me?"

Miguel smiles slightly, looking at you slightly before turning back to the road. "I told you it's a surprise."

You huff, lips pouting. Miguel chuckles at you, turning to look at you at a red light and kissing your pout away.

"Cheer up, you'll find out soon."

When that doesn't work, he gives you another kiss, pulling away and giving you that jaw-dropping smile before turning back to the road.

"Look stunning tonight, princesa."

Your pout, instantly drops, being replaced with a bashful smile as your eyes drop to the dress you picked out. Your hands gently smooth it out, a small thank you being mumbled from your lips. Miguel simply smiles to himself, grabbing your hand and holding it in your lap for the rest of the drive.

When he finally stops the car, you look out to see a small store. From the display windows, you can see mannequins dressed in the frilly dresses you love, soft stuffed animals adding to the cuteness. You don't realize Miguel has gotten out of the car until he opens your door, taking the vase from you as he unbuckles your seatbelt.

"You don't need this."

You furrow your brows, taking the hand he offers as he guides you out of the car.

"But you said-"

"I lied." He cuts off, smiling as he places it safely in his backseat.

You scoff and shake your head in disbelief at him, holding his hand as the two of you walk toward the entrance. He pulls the door open for you, and you step inside. You instantly forget the slight annoyance you had, eyes widening as you look around. The store is a bit larger than what the front of the store suggested, the shelves stocked with things plucked straight out of Pinterest. There is a wide range of clothes and decor, your eyes spotting a section dedicated to aesthetic toys.

Miguel comes up behind you, hands squeezing your waist as he bends down to your ear. His warm breath fans over your skin, and you turn your head to face him.

"Not really your style, huh?"

You smile, pushing his face away once you spot his shit-eating grin. He's obviously pleased with himself, and you instantly pull him back towards you as you walk deeper into the store of your dreams.

"Where did you even find this place?"

Miguel shrugs behind you, revealing nothing as he watches you. He can't wipe the small smile off of his face as you scan the shelves, your pupils wide as you take in everything. You gush over anything you see, excitedly turning to show Miguel the precious gems you find. He spends the whole day like this, following and encouraging you to add what you like to the cart.

Though, he does steer you away from the Sonny Angels. He doesn't want you to buy repeats of what he already has waiting for you in the backseat of his car. He only hopes the flowers he bought haven't begun to wilt while you shop.

[aokoaoi]

so ive been thinking abt smth lately and i just gotta request it yk? could you do like hcs where reader loves to braid neteyams hair and put little beads in with it as well, and jake is just literally shipping them soo hard 😭

༄ pairings : neteyam x fem!reader.

༄ warnings : none:P

༄ authors note : i loved this request sm<3, it was so fun writing it, and simple as well. ty for requesting !

— one thing neteyam definitely loves about you is your ways of showing affection. and how you constantly want to braid his hair for him.

— he seriously can't resist whenever you just come up to him, either strut to his direction, or behind him and tap his shoulders, and you go; "can I braid your hair? Please?"

— he wouldn't dare resist.

— first time you did this, he was overly confused and flustered.

— you're so sweet when you braid his hair; you always ask if you're accidentally pulling his hair too hard, or if he was feeling uncomfortable or tired.

— you're also surprisingly fast when you do braids. But he notices that often times, you slow down your pace just so you both can have an excuse to talk to eachother longer.

— now, you're basically his hairstylist.

— at random times, when you're braiding his hair and he start randomly flirting and telling jokes, whether it'd be bad ones or good ones, you always pull on his hair as a way to make him stop.

"Ow!"

"I told you to stop."

"You didn't have to pull on my hair:("

— you immediately apologized after those. He knows he can guilt-trip you with his cute pouts. Yes, he knows your weaknesses>:).

— if you have lots of time or is just simply feeling playful and childish, you put flowers or beads in his hair even if he doesn't want it.

— he never tells you no when you put the small flowers in his hair though, he only tells you not to when they're gonna go to another supply raid. He can't bare to get teased by his brother again.

— when his brother teased him though, his father surprisingly stood up for him.

— it was hilarious when Lo'ak looked at their father with a :o face.. it was almost as if he was betrayed💀..

— one thing about you too, is that you put flowers behind your ear to finish up your looks. So yes, flowers are your signature style.

— he also noticed that the flowers you use on his hair matched the ones you used, so it does fluster him everytime he realized.

— he wasn't the only one who noticed, though.

— his mother also did when she complimented your hair.

"I love that flower in your hair, (name)."

"Thank you, Mrs!"

"Wait, Neteyam has those in his hair."

"Oh yeah, I styled his hair, therefore I put them there:D"

— Neytiri immediately snitched to Jake, giving him more fuel to make his som just propose his love for you already.

— Neteyam turned his father's statements down as if it were the end of the world. His face was hot, and it wasn't helping that his mother was siding with his father.

"Just tell her already."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Ma child, I know what love is when I see it."

"She's just being nice, mom!"

"Nice my ass."

"Stop it:("

— Jake and Neytiri won't stop ganging up on him.

— the last thing he wants know is for his other siblings to know.

— but at least his parents loved you:D

[anton-luvr]

hii could u write abt how riize would react to you avoiding their kisses as a prank? like the tiktok challenge! tysm i love ur writing!!

# WHEN YOU AVOID THEIR KISSES ; 7riize.

⚝ bf!riize x gn!reader | fluff | bf au, prank au ⚝ note ; this is perhaps my favorite request... tysm for requesting anon!!! hope u like it and thank u <3

# SHOTARO. - the smile on his face instantly falters. he freezes for a while, trying to process what just happened. softly, he'll mumble "why'd you move away? come back here :(" and tugs you back by your arm so he can kiss you. once you burst laughing and tell him it's just a prank, his signature smile is back on his face as he kisses you.

# EUNSEOK. - petty mode: activated. the moment you dodge his kiss, he'll go "oh so you don't wanna kiss me? okay, fine don't kiss me then" and he'll saunter away with a scoff. when you run after him to tell him it's just a prank, he'll huff and fold his arms, grumbling about how "it's not funny". but once you kiss him, all pettiness melts away and he attacks you with tickles to make you promise not to do that again.

# SUNGCHAN. - he'll be in absolute disbelief. like did you just turn away??? from his kiss????? when you ask for them almost 24/7?????????? he instantly knows there's something up, and he'll chase after you to kiss you, your laughter echoing across your apartment. when he finally catches up to you on the sofa, he'll pin you down and smother you in kisses till you're breathless and your stomach hurts from laughing.

# WONBIN. - bro is confused™. he's oblivious at first, and he'll ask you if he has something on his face. but when you shake your head no and move away from him when he tries to kiss you again, he gets even more confused. he'll whine a "then why won't you let me kiss you?", and you can't help but laugh and give in to your lovely boyfriend.

# SEUNGHAN. - he instantly thinks he did something wrong, because you've never declined his kisses before. he'll apologize so so so gently, voice full of so much love and care for you. he didn't even do anything wrong but it's so sweet, and you kiss him and tell him it's all just a prank with a smile. he doesn't even care about it, because "as long as i still get to kiss you at the end of the day, i don't mind."

# SOHEE. - you have officially left him #heartbrocken. like the drama queen he is, he'll gasp and screech "do you not love me anymore?" before clutching at his supposedly wounded heart. even when you laugh at him, he keeps the act up. "are you laughing at my suffering?!" he wails, groaning in false pain. needs plenty of kisses and cuddles for the drama to go away after you tell him it's only a prank.

# ANTON. - he wants the ground to open up and eat him alive. he gets sooooo embarrassed and will literally turn and run away from you to hide himself, face bright red. when you stop him to tell him it's just a prank, he gets even more embarrassed. he'll whine a "not funny, don't do it again." while he hugs you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

© anton-luvr, 2023.

taglist: @wonbons @mxlly143 @keehobaldboy @shawyle @yenart (drop an ask to be added to my taglist!)

[romanticoms]

everything i said i knew, i didn't (come through)

lando norris x fem!reader → tags: wc 2.2k, pure smut, fan(?) x athlete, no use of y/n (thankfully) not proofread, 5am.

author's note: this set us back by like 60 years.. i won't elaborate on why it's so bad. (my excuse is that i only write resident evil fanfics :3)

it's about a week or so into the new season, which has everyone evidently excited, some more so than others, much like you, you could only ever dream of watching the races in real time, it's a given that you're on vacation a little too near to what could be considered a hotspot for drivers alike.

drivers were practically saran wrapped in black coats, heading from the hotel lobby straight up to their respective rooms,

you were just a simple thing, minding your own business, it'd be rude to even try to look for any one of the drivers, that's class a asshole behaviour, as much as you were willing to look for any of them, it's not like it's in your cards to find a driver on their one special night's rest, let alone build up the courage and ask any one of them for their signatures.

to your surprise, word on the street says something about mclaren's drivers promoting a new sponsor of theirs, it won't hurt to snag a picture or two, especially now that there are fans posting about it,

you arrive at the ballroom, not too big not too small, reasonable enough not to squint to look at either one of the two, but you were fairly distanced away from the two, a crowd lies in between you and the two, hell, if someone had to point you out from the crows it'd probably take hours, not for lando though, his eyes had been on you since the moment you'd been there, probably longer? only he knows, but it takes you a questionable amount of time to even realize who exactly he was staring at, you shrug off the possible feeling of the fact that he was actually staring at you, don't get your hopes up, that's what you agreed on since the start anyways.

a little after the event concludes, it's a slip past midnight but you still manage to shower the feeling of heavy crowds pushing you back and forth away, slipping into a racy nightdress, you're reminding yourself to make the best of a holiday, even if it means you have to sacrifice some comfort to look cute (even when nobody's looking), you finish off by tying a near slobbish knot that doesn't have you trying again, still buzzing with the idea that lando's been looking at you, as much as you're willing to deny it for the right reasons, it's true, looking back at the recordings on your phone and it's more apparent that he was taking quick glances at you and the crowd ahead of him, then you, back to the crowd, it's an endless cycle and it has you giggling to yourself, a fucking coincidence

a knock or two hits your door, it's faint but you're aware that it's bed time, room service at this time of the night? they changing your room due to booking fuck ups? you think of the possibilities on the short walk to the door, you peek through the peephole to find lando norris, at your door, smiling somewhat like an idiot.

meeting an f1 driver was certainly not on your "list of things that happened today" bingo card, let alone on the fact that he's here just to see you, it's too surreal it has you nearly weak at the knees.

the door, holy shit. opening the door, butter fingers, it's a generational curse, lando seems much more relaxed after seeing you, poor boy was probably scared he got the wrong room,

you turn to speak but he hushes you, a fucking finger to your lips and it already has you feeling butterflies, given your knees were weaker than gruel, he's had you in a trance, captivated to the point where you take a few steps back from the door until he allows himself in, he shuts the door softly, double— triple checking if they're locked, he turns to you, it's the glint in his eyes that show he owes you an explanation,

"sorry about that," he starts,

"what brings you here?" you ask out of pure concern, it shocks you (and others, probably) that lando would go out of his way for someone like you, it's cute, to a point.

"just needed an escapade," he sits himself on the edge of the bed, it's crazy that you have him here but there's no way in hell he's here for whatever your brain believes.

"well, if you really want to know," he clears his throat before speaking again, "i'm here to see you,"

"me? of all people, me?" you cough up, at this rate you won't stop beating yourself up over nothing, it's valid given the status difference between the two of you.

you're visibly surprised, and it amuses lando, well enough for him to take the first step.

"yes, you," he murmurs, standing as he speaks, his frame slightly overlooks yours, he's like a a shadow that's brighter than you, in any and every way, odd.

"i saw you at the event earlier, you'd be surprised to know how easy it is to play pretend with the concierge." he chuckles, you just stare at him with your arms crossed, like you're babysitting a kid.

"it's still shitty of me, i know, i know," he has both arms slightly up, you're turned to him, now you're sitting on the same bed as him and it smells like bergamot and a pang of tension.

a pang doesn't cut it, you stare deeply into his eyes as he does with yours, it's not long until you're letting out, it's messy, really.

catching onto how many times he's been chuckling in between kisses, it just gets hotter and hotter, he really is the sun much like they claim.

his arm is around your waist drawing you in closer to him, his free hand tangled in your hair, gently caressing your cheekbones.

he deepens the kiss, savoring the warm heat of your body against his. his hands move slowly down your back as he pulls you towards him, it's nearly dramatic, the way you two hit heavy on the bedframe while simultaneously continuing, like animals, it's evident from the pale moonlight watching over the two of you, he's ferocious, grasping onto either sides of your waist and down, bruising them evenly, he whines and bites his lip the moment you pull back, just briefly before he has you on your back, you feel the mattress dip as he gets closer to you, crooning in your neck, he whispers, "jesus, feels so fucking good,"

barely a minute, no, two minutes? three? you lost count, your mind is drifting elsewhere, questioning how lando could keep track of the time, (it's his job to do so, obviously) but his kisses just keep pulling you back to the situation at hand, he'll deal with the rest later, he's desperate to peel the layers of clothes stringing you two apart.

"come on, can't wait—" he mutters to himself, desperately undoing the final strap of your silk before tossing it somewhere to the side, he's careful to not rip a single thread,

if it weren't for anyone or anything suspecting your unexpected visitor this late at night, he'd make it his goal to get you to scream his name, he'll settle for what he can get now, the rest will come eventually.

"there, there, sweetheart," he's coaxing you relentlessly, you're at ease, "where do you want me?" he looks up at you, you say nothing, slowly snatching his wrist to feel his calloused palm feel your stomach, he's knee deep in this, you're just made that way, made for him, "fuck, that's hot," lando hisses by your ear as he positions himself to box your frame.

"want me to be gentle, sweetheart? or rough, it's your call," he murmurs sweetly before softly nibbling at the lobe of your ear, peppering kisses from ear to neck, "rough," you choke out, "didn't hear you, sweetheart," he's teasing you and it feels worse than having pins and needles, "rough, please," you're crying out and he's heartlessly teasing you, barely met the guy and you know he's gonna make up for it, "atta girl," it's like you were sculpted for him, mind, voice and body.

he brings the incessant teasing to a mere halt when he motions you to get on top of him, feeling your cold but sweat glazed back pitted against his abs, feeling his cock swell against you, in heat of the moment, you mindlessly respond to him without even realising it, swirling your tongue on his middle and ring fingers, coating through and through before bringing it down to your aching pussy, his digits pressed up on your clit, he's really, really slow with his movements but you're not fighting it, you're not fighting for a quick stimulation, given the situation, the pace and timing are suited to your mind's liking, not like when you'd desperately stuff your fingers in your pussy to take your mind off the edge, you were sloppy n' straightforward with it, but lando, lando's a whole other topic that needs to be studied,

"this good for you, sweetheart? i can go a whole new mile for you if you need me to, just give me the word, i'll be more than happy to provide," he's whispering in your ear and it's making your stomach turn, unable to think and come up with anything, you come, cum all over his hands, all over nearly nothing, guilt washes you, barely pleased him and you're already selfishly doing this, lando's not even questioning a thing, he smirks against your shoulder and you feel it, he's silent but he doesn't even think twice before he continues, "good girl, such a good girl," he's consistently praising you, still at the same pace, maybe a little faster, you wouldn't know because of how it'd felt in the moment, lightheaded but in a good way, indefinitely, cloud nine? better than that, then you're hit with a second orgasm, this time your legs trash and you nearly give in before he stops briefly, you're gasping for air but you're desperate to finish, "no, please, don't stop," you pant in frustration, "hey, i'm not going anywhere," he's nonchalant about it, treating your desperation with utmost attention, he's careful with you, switching positions, he's up and facing you on the bed, slowly going over your waistline, then, he lines the throbbing red heat of his cock with your mound, slowly teasing you, pushing it up and down for a few seconds before slowly bottoming out, you push back in a pang of shock, not even a split second later it feels better than anything you figured he'd promise, locking your fingers with his, slow but rhythmic slaps fill the hollow sound of your once empty room, he dives forth, finds the crook of your neck, slowly sinking his teeth in, this one definitely does it for you, the third orgasm definitely jumps on the scale, feeling it ramp up to a solid twelve, you feel lando pick up the pace, "'m gonna cum, baby, n' it's gonna be all over you, n' you're gonna take it," evident from the grunts you hear in the back of your mind before you're picked back up into reality, he pulls out and you feel empty, yearning just a little more, nothing beats the view of seeing his essence take up certain areas of your belly, he watches as your breathing slowly regulates.

figuring you need a minute or two to cool off, he disappears into the bathroom without saying a word, you hear the water run and hit the cold floor, then you start to see steam fog up the mirror from the door, conveniently angled to the bed, lando pops back out to pick you up, bridal style at that, he's admiring every feature painted on your face, even the waterproof mascara he's managed to ruin, kicking the door shut with the back of his foot, he sets you in the bath tub where you're immediately soothed by it's warm embrace.

[the-kr8tor]

Okay I had a fic idea and rushed to tumblr to see if your requests were open I'm lowkey shaking rn.

Anyway can we imagine hobie and reader who are friends but secretly having feelings for each other, and one night reader gets a little too drunk at a party and sends a confession text to hobie ?! And the way he would come to pick her up right after this and confess in return AAAAAAAKFODJODNXODBF do you think you could write something about it ? No one can write Hobie fics like you 💕❤️

Hi hi I combined both of your requests bc they were similar hope you don't mind. Changed it up a bit but it's basically the same! Thank you for requesting!! 😘❤️❤️❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 2.3k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), CW alcohol, fluff.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Getting wine drunk is a bad idea, getting wine drunk alone is an even worse idea. Your vision swirls whilst you watch the most mind numbing reality tv there is. Mind hazy, the smell of stale popcorn filtering in the air, blanket comfortably on your legs. You look at your phone right next to you like it owes you money.

With a narrowed glance, the screen blinks open like you commanded it in your mind. You don't miss how you quickly take it in your wobbly hands despite the alcohol warming your insides. Huffing, you're immensely disappointed to see a notification from one of the games you play to pass the time.

‘Your castle is under attack!’ it says in bold letters, and you wish it was him texting you instead. Your wallpaper doesn't help much with your pining, the picture’s a bit blurry but even the blurriness can't hide how deeply in love you are with your best friend. You remember when the photo was taken, and you remember how fast your heart was beating in your ribcage when Hobie yanked you towards him. Sweat still clinging to him from his energetic performance, adrenaline still flowing in his veins as he squeezes his face close to yours. He gives the camera his signature smirk, whilst you could only manage a lopsided smile. Eyes shimmering under the spotlights, arms bravely wrapped around his middle.

You still can't believe you fumbled that day, you thought you had your confession in the bag, but when he stared at you with those brown eyes you loved so much since year eight, the words got stuck in your throat. With alcohol in your system, flooding your nerves with courage, you open your phone to finally tell him your feelings.

> Heyyy boo thang <3

You giggle whilst you hover your thumb at the send button. Backtracking and drunk off cheap wine, you add more to your message.

> Heyyy boo thang <3 just messaging u how ur doing and also I love u so much like a lot ever somce you held my hand during pe when that ball hit my face I loveee u and not just a friend muah <3

Eyes scanning the message, a sudden realization hits you like a truck, as if sobering you immediately. The thought of sending a love confession to *your best friend has you sitting up right on the settee, moreso via text message. But before you could erase it and forget about it, a sudden scream startles you, jolting, the sound making you drop your phone on the carpet.

“Shit!” You glare at the fallen phone then at the telly where the reality stars are now pulling each other's hair like they're in the playground.

With an annoyed click of your tongue, you take your phone from the ground to check the damage. Sighing in relief, you see no cracks in the screen, but your heart falls on the floor once you see that your drunken message has been sent. “No! Motherfucker—!”

Hobie’s head is pounding from the combined powers of the pints he chugged and the loud music banging on stage. The old leather seats of the booth scratch at his jeans, the smoky and musty air entering his lungs, and the warm lights shining in his blurring vision. He usually doesn't mind it, he thrives in the environment. But his band mates basically dragged him into the pub when he was supposed to be hanging out with you tonight.

“Mates before chicks!” James said, earning a loud slap from Yuri a second later. “You hang around her too much, we miss our guitarist.” Ned mumbles with his puppy dog eyes that Hobie never thought would actually work on him. “Just one round with us! And you can come back home to your girl.” Riri added with a teasing grin. Hobie didn't even correct her at this point, and he knows it’s not just for one round.

After sending you a heartfelt message using Ned's phone, he rescheduled the weekly hangout where you and Hobie would watch the crappiest show you could find airing on cable, and whoever leaves the couch first owes the winner dinner. To which Hobie always sees as a win/win, he gets to hangout with you more, and he gets to see you smile when he purposely loses. Hobie invited you to the pub, even though he knows you'd reject his proposal, simply because he knows you hate the place, and how the carpet sticks to your shoes.

He knows you more than he knows himself.

It's hard enough to find the time to see you with all his responsibilities. He hates it when he could only settle with a quick phone call every night to check in on eachother. Especially when just a few years ago you were hanging out with him almost everyday.

He never thought he'd miss you this much when he agreed.

Hobie loves his friends, he really does, but you just have a very special place in his heart that he wishes he was in yours too.

Nursing a pint, he drowns his feelings with the amber drink and loud chatter with his band mates. Riri grumbles something about her landlord, while Yuri replies back with a ‘mine’s always open for subletting,’ she says in a singing tone. A minute later, the entire table looks at him with similar glints in their eyes.

“What?” He asks a little too roughly.

“You should get your own phone, mate, because I don't want to see your bloody messages.” Ned scoffs, his phone in hand. “Seriously, this one is sweet and all but this could take a turn real fucking quick, and I don't want to see that shit.”

“What the fuck are you talkin' ‘bout?” Hobie doesn't think he's that drunk yet, even though he doesn't notice how his words slur together, or how his tongue sits heavy in his mouth.

Riri and Yuri giggle amongst themselves, while James takes a peek at Ned's phone before making a dramatic shocked face.

His nerves shoot up when James mouths your name. Are you hurt? Are you mad at him? “Y/N, texted? What’d she say?” Hobie tries to snatch the phone from Ned, to which his friend pulls it away from him playfully.

“Oh I'm gonna need some popcorn.” Yuri snickers.

Ned, being equally drunk, clears his throat dramatically while leaning away from Hobie, who is too drunk to even win against James who's currently holding him back. James laughs like a hyena in Hobie's ear, while Riri takes a picture of the chaos.

“Hey! Boo thang! Heart emoji.” Ned reads unabashedly, the girls laugh louder at Hobie's expense. “Just messaging you how you're doing, and also I love you so much!” Ned tries to copy your voice, “Like a lot—!” Hobie has had enough, cheeks hot (not from the alcohol) he uses his spider strength to push past James, then grabbing the phone so quickly that not even the owner processed what happened until he sees it in Hobie's hand. “You're no fun, mate.”

“Has anyone ever told you not to read someone else's messages?” Hobie hides the screen on his chest.

“It's my fucking phone!” Ned gestures wildly.

Hobie glares at his bassist, he peeks down at the bright screen, your name up top and caller ID smiling at him. He can't help but smile back.

He might be drunk, but he's not drunk enough to hallucinate you confessing your love to him. Via Ned's phone nonetheless.

He feels bodies crowd around him, Yuri's chin is pressed on his left shoulder while Ned on his right. Riri pushes James away to get a closer look at the screen while James settles to loom over everyone like some muscle-bound shield.

“What the fuck are you lot doin’?” Hobie asks, hands gripping the phone like it's about to be snatched from him.

“We're dying from anticipation here, bruv.” James says above everyone.

“‘Anticipation’, that's a big word, James.”

“Eat a bag of dicks, Yuri.”

“You first—”

“Would you all shut up?” Hobie hisses, eyes glued to the tiny dots at the bottom, indicating that you're currently typing.

“She's typing.” Riri whispers.

“We can all see that, Riri.” Ned whispers back.

Hobie shushes them both when the three dots disappear without a new message. His heart hammers at his chest, he feels like he's back in high school, way back when you could just smile at him and his day will be made better.

“Just tell her, mate.” Ned says a lot softer than Hobie thought he was capable. “We all know you love her, just bloody tell her because I'm gonna need my phone back to call a cab real fucking soon.” And he ruined it.

“D’you have a curfew, Neddy?” James asks teasingly, earning a scowl from Ned.

Ned rolls his eyes. “I'm just saying, she might appreciate it if you actually reply to it.”

“I think she's drunk.” Riri pipes up, everyone looks at her. She roams her eyes towards each of their faces. Rolling her eyes she points at the message. “Look, there's so many mistakes there and I've texted with Y/N before, she doesn't text like that.”

“What's wrong with texting with spelling mistakes? I do that.” James smiles.

“Because it's just you, you ding dong.” Yuri teases, and James fakes a deep frown.

“Being drunk doesn't mean she didn't mean the text. The alcohol might've just helped her send it.” Ned reassures Hobie.

“I did it.” Hobie half exclaims, bleary eyes repeatedly reading his text. I fucking did it, shit! He thinks to himself. Hobie's suddenly incredibly sweaty.

“Oh shit! That's my guy!” Ned punches Hobie's bicep. The rest look at him with bewilderment.

“What did you even say?” Riri scooches closer to read.

> I love you too I might be drunk right now but I wasn't when I first realized it I have loved you since you gave me hot chocolate when I was freezing my ass off trying to win that stupid selling contest

“Holy fuck.” Yuri pats Hobie's cheek. “Can't believe you're capable of being sweet.”

“Shit, bruv,” James sniffs, his tears falling on the screen. “that shit is awe inspiring— don't even start, Yuri”

“Wasn't gonna,” she shrugs.

Ned pokes Hobie's side when he realizes his friend hasn't moved an inch from his position. “You okay, Hobs?”

Hobie inhales shakily, a smile slowly spreading across his lips once your message pops up. He swears that fireworks suddenly lit up inside him.

“Oh my god—” Riri tears up, but before the rest of the band reads the message, Hobie jumps out of his seat, even forgetting his own jacket in the process.

“Hobie—shit! Wait!” Ned tries to call him back, but Hobie's already out of the pub, sprinting fast. “My fucking phone.” He could only scratch his head.

The wind nips at his bare arms, lungs heaving whilst he runs at full speed. He should've brought his web shooters with him, but he unfortunately left it in his jacket pockets. If he had them he'd be swinging to your place so he could get to you faster.

Hobie's glad that it's late, or else he'll be dodging people left and right. Boots thumping loudly across the pavement, hand gripping Ned's phone, getting closer to your familiar street, he curves around the corner, almost bumping into you.

He stops your momentum with his arms. He feels his own jacket against his arms, you wear his hoodie well. Your chest heaves, grin slowly appearing on your wind whipped lips.

“Hobie?” You ask and everything clicks together in his mind.

All the tentative touches you two shared, all the hugs that lingered a few seconds longer, all the times that you looked at him like he fished the moon out for you. And all the times he looked at you like you're made out of stars. It all comes together in that dusty street corner where you both have crossed a thousand times before.

“Looks like we had the same idea.” Hobie softly says, clammy hands sliding down to your own sweaty palms. He doesn't mind, it's you, so he would never mind it.

“I guess you read my message.” You hold him close, hands squeezing at his hands that you've mapped out in your mind.

He chuckles, sliding his hand out from yours to show you the screen. “‘Say it to me in person and I'll say it back,’ doesn't give me much leeway, love.” The streetlight above perfectly aligns above you, giving you both a spotlight.

You mirror his smitten smile. “What are you waiting for then?”

Hobie pockets the phone, then he holds your face gently, eyes staring at you like he always has. “I love you.”

You pull him closer by his collar. “I love you too, Hobie Brown.”

“Since when?” He rags you on.

You roll your eyes with a smile. “Ever since I got hit in the face with a basketball and you deflated it with your spiked bracelet and then called the jock who threw it a wanker.” He smiles wider at every word you utter. Leaning closer, he smells the wine on your lips. “The hot cocoa, really? That—” you fight the tears from flowing. “That was years before we became best friends.”

“And I've continued to love you since then, and will love you as long as you let me.” Hobie presses his forehead atop yours, a kiss would suffice better, but for now, he'll settle for this.

You know him better than you know yourself. “Save me a kiss once we're both sober?”

“They're all reserved for you, love.”

[f1shart]

i am Hearing you Out on Tankbalt. me and bro when we're traumatized teens forced to carry the curse of being too much like our parents and not enough at the same time. please go on

EVERYTHING TANKBALT HAS IN COMMON

rambling under the cut. aha

both the oldest brother with two younger siblings and are the strongest out of them (IGNORING TANK'S 0 BODY POINTS) - you could say they take on the protector role

The Anger

both cover their faces

neurodivergent coded. one camouflages and the other masks come the fuck ON

they have one signature color (which are complementary fyi 💚❤️)

both involved in family feuds though the grunt-smith one is much smaller in scale. also they both have a really gay obsession with a boy from their opposing clan

dead moms that are a key factor in their unbridled Rage

on the topic of family, they both also have a male parental figure that has both a heavy overall influence on them and encourages them to partake in the feud (in consort's case you could argue he doesnt actually encourage tybalt to beat the shit out of the monty brothers every day, but he also doesn't effectively stop him or even make an effort to. i say "effectively" as a reference to the scene in r&j where capulet calls him a saucy boy for wanting to deal with romeoSORRY IM SO OBSESSED WITH THAT)

going back to the color thing can i also say how both their colors relate heavily to their family/expectations... tank's green is obviously representative of how buzz expects him to pursue a career in the military and center his whole life around it; meanwhile tybalt's red, often the "Capulet color" in many r&j adaptations, represents his very strong allegiance to his clan and how he's like. the only teen in that town to actually give a fuck about the feud

both are fanonically associated with an animal aka angry pussy and perrito encerrado <3 not to mention that the kitty x puppy type ship dynamic is very popular

both technically come from wealthy families? i'm just being logical here - i KNOW the grunts dont have a super mega amount of cash in their bank like the capps (and those guys are a whole different breed of rich..) but generals make a fuckton of money irl so just imagine the accumulated wealth of wholeass generations of them!! plus, buzz often gets this one chance card that, if you choose correctly, he brings home §50,000. if u get that one make sure to choose to launch a missile at the thingy (asteroid?) btw

what if we dove into fanon real quick..you could sayyy they both have physical signs of their trauma ^_^ for tybalt, it's his burn scars from escaping the fire that killed his parents when he was young and additionally having to save his even younger sisters. for tankernaut there's a couple of things you could argue: 1. his ptosis. i typically depict it as a congenital thing mysef but perhaps it's stress-induced? from my 5-second google search i've concluded that this isn't possible as a permanent affliction but first of all Fuck Realism, secondly it could be a thing that just appears every once in a while when he's reeeally going through it. and 2. his funny bone injury mentioned in gba/ds, presumably obtained on the battlefield. i've also seen tank depicted with more intense scarring (shoutout to my boy mash) but yap yap NEXT POINT?!??

hmmmmm ah. i think my brain juice's all fixzled oit.... hm. both are whi..te...???

both reeeaalllyy gay like fag asf. quite possibly the gayest boys of the sim franchise

TANKBALT GALLERY

[ashleyfilm]

Seeing Clearly - Chapter 3. Joel's House

Please leave comments, I'd love to know your thoughts. And if you feel inclined to reblog, that would be so nice.

Chapter Warnings: cursing, talk of body image, negative comments about body image (not by reader or joel), talk of SA and violence (past), There Will Be Smut, (eventually) Minors - DNI

Characters: Jackson!Joel Miller x F!Reader Plus Size. F!OC was recommended to me since there's a lot of description of her but I'm writing her as You (Reader) so hopefully you can still imagine yourself. Black hair, glasses, tattoos, big body, wears dark clothes, won't stop talking. Joel is tv show Jackson Joel.

Story Summary: Joel just saved your life, begrudgingly. He doesn't know exactly why but he brings you back to Jackson and you ingratiate yourself into his very small circle and his life. This takes place after season 1 of TLOU and season 2 doesn't exist in my brain because no.

Chapter Summary: You enter Joel's house for the first time and get to know him a little bit.

Thank you to @saradika-graphics for the book line divider. :)

Chapter 1 Here Chapter 2 Here

Chapter 3. Joel's House

You finally catch up to Joel as the two of you approach a surprisingly lovely two-story house. Is that a front porch swing? As you get to the door, Joel stops so abruptly you knock into his back. Oh, his back, it’s so big, and he’s taller than you and you smell the pine, musk and vanilla, maybe. And it’s intoxicating. He smells so good. Your eyes flutter closed and breathe him in. You’re startled back to earth by his low, stern drawl, “Look, this is my house and you’re a guest, so no wanderin’ around, no snoopin’, don’t take things that aren’t yours and stay outta my way.” Something about Joel giving you orders makes you feel a slight pull beneath your belly button. Something to unpack later, there. “Aye, aye!” You respond and he does one of his signature sighs, side-eyeing you and finally opens the door.

It's so cozy in here, it’s a home. A real home. There’s a set of stairs just to the right when you walk in the door, and the living room is to the left, a couch that looks more comfortable than anything you’ve slept on in decades. There’s a fireplace and on top a beautiful drawing of a black horse with a mane like your own hair, silky black with streaks of gray. Can Joel draw? No way, maybe Ellie did it. Then you see the little carvings. A moose made of dark mahogany wood; a wolf made of a lighter almost ivory shade. Okay, that’s got Joel written all over it. You don’t know how it’s possible you missed it when you walked in, maybe because it’s so foreign to you now but there’s a TV in the corner of the room on a tv stand. You gasp, holding a hand to your chest, “Does that work?”

When you turn to look at Joel, you realize he’s been watching you intently, observing as you take everything in. And there’s something in his gaze that makes your skin flush, like he’s proud to show this home to you. He shakes his head almost to clear his mind and come back to reality. “Yeah, we have some movies on tape we can watch from the library.” And that’s what does it. You start crying, fat wet tears down your cheeks. You can’t help it. You don’t sob, it’s just water, silently leaking down your face. “Darlin’ hey, you’re okay.” Joel comes to put a hand on your shoulder, and you don’t even realize the pet name he’s just called you, much to his relief. Voice shaky, “I’m sorry, Joel, I don’t know what’s come over me. I just never thought I would see a movie ever again in my life. I know it might seem trivial or whatever, but I went to school for filmmaking and wanted to be a director all my life and before everything, before, this was my life.” You look in his eyes now and again you’re shocked by the fucking depth of emotion they carry. He doesn’t want to show you, but his eyes do it anyway.

“Ain’t nothing trivial about it, Ash. I guess I should tell you the town has weekly movie nights, there’s popcorn and a big screen and everything.” You gasp, the tears have finally stopped, and you wipe them away, and you smack Joel on the arm, “Shut up, Joel, oh my god!” He can’t stop the chuckle that leaves his mouth, “I promise, on my life. This week its Jurassic Park, I just found that one on patrol last week.” “I LOVE JURASSIC PARK.” You’re yelling now. “Alright, alright, we’ll go, its Friday evenin’ – um, 3 days from now, it’s Tuesday, today.” Joel says, smiling just a little. You look at him now, and he looks softer, you think you see the brother of Tommy, the dad to Ellie, and maybe he could be a friend to you. “You’ll go with me?” You ask meekly. Joel shakes his head, smirking a little, “Yeah, yeah, don’t make a big deal of it. Now, its late and you’re sure as shit exhausted so head upstairs, your room’s the door on the left. Mine’s on the right, MINE, meanin’ its off limits to you. Maria left you some clothes and things in the room you might need, the showers got towels and everything ya need in there. Get a shower and get some sleep.” You nod, smiling at how he’s taking care of you without even realizing it. He’s such a dad. You walk to the stairs and kick your worn old boots off and leave them by the door. As you make your way up the stairs, you stop and look at Joel, “Thank you.” “It’s nothing,” he replies, not looking at you. “No, Joel,” you wait till he finally meets your gaze, “you saved my life, and you brought me to heaven on earth as far as I’m concerned...thank you.” His lip ticks up in a grin and you see it, the dimple in his cheek and it takes your breath away. Well, you’re officially fucked. “Get some sleep, Ash.” Your cheeks flush and you continue up the stairs. You’ll do anything to see that dimple again and as many times as possible after.

Warning: talk of body image, negative comments about body image (not by reader or joel), talk of SA and violence (past).

You wake up early the next morning, the sun shining in through the window of your small, incredible, beautiful bedroom. YOUR BEDROOM with a bed and a door and a lock and a window that’s not broken. You slept so well, clean with a full stomach, in the most comfortable bed with sheets and pillows, multiple pillows. Hugging your curves and alleviating your back. You could just lay here for days, but you’re restless and you’re wondering what you did in a past life to end up here like this. You don’t think you deserve it. You sit up and stretch, the sleep shirt you’re wearing revealing your plush tummy, you grab for your trusty glasses on the nightstand and your shorts that ride up on your thick thighs and round ass. Even in the apocalypse with little food and a lot of walking, you’ve held onto your weight for the most part. Thicker than most others. Some strange phenomena. People you’ve run into during your journey over the last 20 years have questioned it. Accused you of stealing food, being lazy around the Nashville QZ. Men in the QZ ogling you, their wives or girlfriends blaming you, calling you a slut. Busting your lip open with their fists after catching you in an alley alone. Raiders telling you they haven’t seen a woman like you in years, calling you a fat bitch while assaulting you. But you never turned that in on yourself, you were happy with your body, she kept you alive. She survived everything. Your mind on the other hand…well that’s a different story.

You decide that there is something you can do to try and balance the scales. It’s not much but everyone loves breakfast, right? So, you pad down to the kitchen and start cooking, eggs and bacon. They have bacon here. Are you dead? Is this even real? You even see a loaf of sourdough bread, okay you’re making toast, obviously. You get to work and soon you notice Ellie and Joel come in from different sides of the kitchen. Oh Joel. He’s in flannel pajama pants that ride low on his hips and a thin t-shirt that strains to keep from tearing on his beautiful biceps. You thought maybe you made it up, maybe you were sleep deprived and starving and your eyes tricked you. No, nope, he really is incredible. “MMMMMM, hell yes, breakfast!” Ellie exclaims as she goes to pour herself some juice from the fridge. Joel grunts, “Who said you could go through the fridge and start cookin’.” You look at him with guilt in your eyes about to apologize when Ellie saves you, “Oh, stuff it, old man, she made you breakfast, say thank you, mind your manners. Isn’t that always what you tell me?” She winks at you, and you bite back the smile on your face. “Uh, thank you.” Joel coughs out. “Okay, sit down you two, I just have to plate the eggs and we’ll be – FUCK!” You scream as you grab the piping hot handle of the pan the eggs are sizzling in. Clanging it back on the stovetop.

In a flash, Joel is at your side, holding your left wrist and looking at the long red burn mark on your palm. He walks you over to the sink and turns on the tap of cold water, placing your burning palm underneath the stream. “It’s okay,” he coos, as you audibly wince, “You gotta keep it under here for a good long while to help keep it from scarrin’ too bad.” You’re not looking at your hand anymore, you’re looking at Joel. “How do you know that?” you ask timidly. He doesn’t take his eyes or his hand off your injured one, “Parents pick that kind of stuff up.” And you know he’s not referring to Ellie, but you don’t press. Speaking of Ellie, she’s got a huge, stupid grin on her face watching this interaction while scarfing down bacon. Still quiet you say only to Joel, “I haven’t cooked in two decades, I forgot the handle heats up.” He finally finds your eyes not expecting you to be looking right into his, he startles like a wild animal and drops your wrist. You instantly become colder without his touch.

He speaks, gruff and a bit louder now, “Well, watch it next time and go sit down, I’ll get the eggs.” You sit down at the table next to Ellie in what will soon become your designated seat, and Joel comes to sit beside you after dolling out the eggs. Ellie makes to grab your wrist, slowly, making sure you’re okay with it, “Can I see?” You nod and hold out your burned palm, “EWWW, its gonna scab, and then its gonna peel, can I see it when it starts to peel?” Joel about to take a bite of the eggs, “Ellie, can you not, tryin’ ta eat here. Ugh.” Ellie starts to giggle and so do you. Then you hear Joel moan, and you look over to see his eyes closed and notice he’s savoring the eggs you cooked him. You try to contain your squeak of excitement but fail and his eyes flick open to you like he’s been caught. “Okay, okay, I’ll give it to you, you make way better eggs than me, and no shells, good job.” Ellie watches you as you smile into your glass of water and Joel as he smirks just a little showing his dimple and she starts placing bets in her head on which one of you is going to fold first.

[nerdieforpedro]

Filthy Hooligans

Lucian Flores x female reader

This fanfiction and my entire blog is 18+ MDNI

Main Masterlist / Lucian Flores Masterlist

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: Showing up at Lucian's place at 3 am only means one thing. You both know it.

Warnings: Reader (nickname is cupcake) and Lucian are filthy, moisture, smoking, teasing, reference to public sex, exhibitionist behavior, fingering, 2 ass slaps (I think), unprotected P in V (wrap it people!), finger sucking

Notes: I came home from work last night. Fully intended to work on like 4 other WIPs I have. Fell asleep in my chair after eating something in my scrubs, woke up at 3 am. Wrote this, sent it to @musings-of-a-rose to read to over. And here were are. I hope I got the scuzz right. 👀

“I didn’t realize you were full of such bullshit Flores.”

“You’re not going to take that tone with me. I’m telling you not to come here anymore.”

“Is that why you opened the door for me, because I shouldn’t come here anymore?”

It’s your damn mouth. You always have something to say, you can never just accept an answer. Always questioning, always saying something. He needs you to understand that he isn’t saying this because he wants to. Any man in their right mind would enjoy a visit from you at 3 a.m. in nothing but a crimson silk nightgown, black kitten heels and that long black peacoat he remembered buying for you even though you said it was too much. Things are a little too heated right now, he needs to lay low and not have people coming to and from except family, which you care clearly not. Everything about you is loud, which he enjoys. Immensely, finds it entertaining, but not now. 

“I opened the door because I can’t have you causing a scene in my building. I don’t need this shit right now.” Flores is barefoot and pacing. The door man knows you downstairs, he’s one of his people who knows you visit usually at night several times a week. He shouldn’t have let you in, Lucian doesn't remember off hand if he told him or not. He needs to follow up on that later. 

He always has a slight sheen to him, no matter if it’s cold or warm or he’s actually inside. Hair lightly damp around the edges but still curly on top. His small soft belly jiggles over the top of his gray sweatpants he normally sleeps in. A hand at his temple, massaging it, while his other one holds his cigarette, half ash and falling onto the floor. He’s aware that this isn’t his usual calm, collected and suave self. 

“Seems like you need my mouth after all Lucian.” You’re starting your game. Calling his name like that, kicking off your heels, running your cool hands across his heated back. It feels too good. He stops pacing for a moment. “Lu, please. I’ll take care of you and then go.” The idea floats in his mind. To let you do it, have that hot moist mouth of yours, he can lay his head against the back of his couch and not worry about anything while you work. Kissing, sucking, licking, smearing, worshiping at the altar he has between his legs. “Lu-cian~ Lu baby…” Your voice is deepening raspy, lips on the back of his neck, fingers tracing the gold chain that has become his signature over the years. Once he feels your tongue where his hairline starts, he turns to grab your wrists, not too hard, but so you’ll stop. 

“You damn siren! Just fucking listen. You. Need. To. Go. Do not come back until I call for you. I mean it cupcake.” Releasing you he curses. This is not what he needs right not, to be worrying about you. Flores needs to be focused on a plan to get out of the mess, find where the leak is. One of the boys messed up, he needed to know which one. He expects to hear you storm out, welcomes it because then he can focus. 

“Lucy~” Dammit, he hates when you call him that. It pisses him off, you know it does. He can’t engage. He’ll fall for the trick you’re trying to pull on him. Sticking his cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table, he goes over to his kitchen and gets a drink of water, gulping it down. Trickles of it slide down his neck, he knows it’s hitting the vein you like to nibble and suck on when you ride him. He’s been half-swollen since you banged on his door. He knew what you came here for, the same thing you’d been coming for the last three months. Lucian doesn’t expect your next move though, to have your silk, up around your waist, you on your knees facing the back of the couch and opening yourself for him. “Lucian, fill me once. Once and I’ll go.” His hands hold tight onto the sides of his marble kitchen island. Watching you. You’re just as bad as he is. 

The two of you have been like this since the Burger King parking lot in your car. You’d pulled him in, got on top of him, rode him, told him you liked his gold chain and used a marker you found in your glove box to write your number on his arm. Well you tried to, he was too sweaty once you two finished so that was a good laugh. There was a speed warning ticket that you tore in half and you both exchanged numbers. You were sure your phone was somewhere in your car. He was going to meet his guys to check in and see how collections were going, you said you were going to pick your mother up and take her to the grocery store. Filth to match his grime. Different locations, indoors and outdoors. At times, ripped and stained clothing was all you two parted with. His sweat on your body, lipstick on his chest and neck. Sometimes he wouldn’t wipe it off before he went to his next stop, showing off what he’d been up to.

Flores took his time in walking over to you, watching you wiggle your ass for him. When he was behind you, he spread your thighs wider and inserted two fingers in your dripping cunt, curling them to have you call his name louder. “They slid right the hell in didn’t they? Only been two days since I was last in this pussy. You already want it filled again, don’t you cupcake?” You look over your shoulder and whine, he uses his free hands to swat your ass. 

“Hell yes Lucian. I want to leave dripping again.” You grind on his fingers, making him start to pump into you slowly. “Give me your thick cock and stain me again.” A single kiss to the back of your neck is all that Lucian gives you before removing his fingers and replacing them with his cock. He feels you spread, groaning from finally having what you want. His hands take hold of your hips but doesn’t move yet.

“I mean it cupcake. You don’t show up here again without me calling you.” He feels you pushing your hips back and he pinches your hips making you yelp. “Do. You. Understand. Me?” His grip starts to loosen and you feel him pulling out of you.

“Yes! Yes Lucian I understand. Damn. I won’t be here unless you call.” Said almost too quickly to understand, Flores chuckles before making his hips flush with yours, bottoming out within you.

“You’ll only listen with my cock inside of you, it figures, cupcake.” The growl Lucian releases as his pace quickens, has your thighs dripping with your slick and his pre-cum. You’re slumped over the back of the couch, writhing your hips in tune with his. Flores has an idea and takes your elbows in his hands instead of your hips, pounding that much harder into you. 

“I’ll listen to whatever you say with this cock of your Lucian,” Your head hands toward your chest, your moans are turning into squeals. He muttered soft curses in between his grunts, releasing one of your arms, placing his hand on your chest, then sliding it up to your neck. 

“Will you now? My dirty cupcake, suck my fingers. Maybe I jerked off before you got here.” He commanded. His palm was now on your chin as he inserted three fingers in your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. He felt your walls starting to quiver and knew with his throbs he wasn’t too far off either. With several haphazard thrusts, Lucian gave you your filling as requested. It warmed you from the inside, churned inside of you. The loss was felt when he pulled out this time, removing his fingers from your mouth and pulling his sweatpants back up. He saw you close your legs and stagger when standing up, he debated helping you, assisting you with your shoes, but not your coat. Before you closed it, trickles of his come were visible on your thighs. He smirked. 

You wobbled a bit but found your footing on the way to the door. “Don’t wait too long to call Flores. I may have to get some other filling if you’re going to holed up here.” The way you smiled told him that you actually would seek out a replacement for him. The corners of his mouth turned downward.

“You see if they’ll make you wobble like that. I doubt they will cupcake. You’ll be missing this dick. If you don’t answer, there’s plenty of pussy out here.” Lucian took his pack out of his pocket and lighter, firing up another cigarette. The small flame glowed against the visible sheen of his skin and his gold chain that you’ve never seen him without. His lips around the stick making a small ‘o’ as he inhaled, holding it in before his released the smoke from his nostrils, tilting his chin up.

“I’ll probably have to try a few before I find another good fit. And I don’t know what other woman you’d be able to find that can get wet enough to handle you. See you Lu~” He watched you walk out the door and down the hallway to the elevator. You blew him a kiss and he nodded before stepping back into his apartment and plopping down on the couch. He took a long drag of his cigarette and sighed, exhaling the smoke again. He’d need to figure out the leak sooner rather than later, he’s not willing to have blue balls over this shit.

The beads of sweat on Lucian's neck 💦: @laurfilijames @avastrasposts @maggiemayhemnj @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @morallyinept @trulybetty @goodwithcheese @secretelephanttattoo @rhoorl @linzels-blog @yorksgirl @for-a-longlongtime @legendary-pink-dot @magpiepills @alltheglitterandtheroar @beefrobeefcal @pamasaur @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @theywhowriteandknowthings @gasolinerainbowpuddles @megamindsecretlair @daddy-dins-girl @readingiskeepingmegoing @guelyury @missladym1981 @heareball @sin-djarin @gwendibleywrites @katw474 @immarocketman @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

[ziipzeepzop-eez]

❝ just like magic, here you are! just like magic, in my heart. ❞

━━ ⁎˚ ໒ 🍥 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞!𝐥𝐞𝐨 𝐱 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐢!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ⊹ ࣪ ˖༄

request — @snipersiniora : " Cool! Cool! As a ROTTMNT big fan my requests goes there especially either platonic, romance or sister reader in general (you can say i love these types of HCs/one-shot). ⨾ About the request; May i please - and as always if you don't want to, don't feel comfortable about it you can delete the request - Rottmnt romantic hc about Leonardo x fem!reader who's a Unicorn yokai? ⨾ Like she has a habit to flip her wings whenever leo is aroundshe loves wearing pink but once leo became her boyfriend she wear blue his color and she's super sweet and trusting of him. Something rotten tooth sweet type of hc. "

𝐚 / 𝐧 ༝༚༝༚ ☁︎ :: my dearest love. at user sniper siniora. here it is. i bestow this upon you with trembling hands and a stoic grace. i won't lie! — with this being my first time doin' an official sorta " request " outside of the usual shenanigans with my shawties, i was more than a little nervous. but this was a lot of fun!! i hope it makes you feel at least a lil better :')) <3 thank you for your endless patience, the creativity juice, and most of all - for requesting from me! 🩵💫 it's been an honor, and i reeeally hope you like it because if you don't i will JUST BE CRUSHED.

now, on with the show. *bows with a flourish*

HE'S OBSESSED WITH YOU Awww, look guys!! It's couple of the year! (ﾉ^ヮ^)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧

༘⋆✿ No but seriously. How dare you exist? How dare you become the exact embodiment of this boy's wildest dreams? (/lh + /aff)

The world of the yokai is already a diverse plane, so the possibility (read: literal existence) of unicorn yokai being a reality was never not thereeee . . . .

Our Neon Leon just never got that far. Haha.

So trust that when homeboy sees you for the first time, he does a whole double-take.

༘⋆✿ He is, enthralled. You have him entirely wrapped around your pretty li'l majestic finger. Ope- there he is, kissing up your knuckles! (Just shove him away.) (He'll come back. He knows you can't resist his charm.)

Let's be real: the first time he caught a glimpse of you, it was in passing, and he could not stop thinking about you for the rest of . . . well, until you see each other again!

His brothers probably know every little detail about you (physically wise) before you guys even get together lmwoooo.

He would NOT SHUT UP about the "majestic unicorn lady down in Times Square down in the Hidden City (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+ . . . NO, HE WAS NOT HALLUCINATING DONNIE. He really saw you! >:("

(Donnie definitely wouldn't miss out on an opportunity to tease his twin but I feel he'd be just as interested in the aspect of your existence! What can I say? The man's a scientist. He tries to run genetic tests but Leo doesn't let him and shoo's him away each time he even comes close to you with in-the-name-of-science intent lolz)

༘⋆✿ Thinks you're the most magical thing to ever grace this wretched earth.

And, if magic is a bit of a stereotype for your kind?

If you can't actually- . . . if you don't have magical abilities— that doesn't make you any less in Leo's eyes!! To him, your whole existence itself is magical. ✨ His words, not mine. (/lh)

He's all over you any other way.

Casual settings, ranging from cozy atmospheres such as date nights to the eccentric zany missions, circling back to midnights on the rooftops,

Just sneaking into your everyday life in broad daylight,

with or without his signature hoodie,

but always with his charming smile.

He's your new constant, just like you're his.

However! If you do share in the mystic aspect that comes with being a yokai, or a direct descendant mutant of a mysticism involved bloodline (*stares hard in bro's general direction*) —

you're gonna get dragged into a bunch of crazy thematic shenanigans that

- more often than not -

end up with you guys bustin' your butts in a mad escape from some rogue yokai of sorts.

During the calmer times tho? You'd indulge him.

Set off little magical cotton-candy pink shadow puppets dancing across the walls of his bedroom while he cuddles close to you, churring softly while rubbing his cheek against yours, his eyes sparkling with nothing short of adoration.

Whether you're casting those little puppet shows out of your own volition,

or from the music box Leo had gifted to you on a date he'd nabbed from a cute little shop in the Hidden City,

that's up for you to decide.

It's a sweet bonding time either way. (✿ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)⁾⁾

༘⋆✿ . . . He has his moments of trademark insufferability, tho. You knew it was coming.

"Ooo! Ooh, I know!- can you magic up a pizza?"

"Can you teleport like me? If I got you in a high enough position, could you defeat our enemies with the power of friendship?"

"Can you make fireworks come outta your fingers? It'd make a lotta sense, seeing as you have magic fingers; that massage last night did wonders for my scales, cutie. I'll help brush your feathers later, hm?"

"Oh- OH! I know! Can you-"

"Leonnn."

༘⋆✿ Magic abilities, no magic abilities. Noodles, no noodles . . . One thing about this funky blueberry muffin is he will be absolutely obsessed with you, through and through.

"You're all the magic I need in my life, [Name]."

༘⋆✿ If being one of his favorite existing creatures wasn't enough, let's talk about your fashion!! Now he adores your fashion sense. Your entire aesthetic. He loves unicorns, he loves every sugar-spice-and-everything-nice thing surrounding said unicorns! You're such a vision to him.

But shortly after you both got together, and you started incorporating blue into your everyday style??

Mm.

Reeeeemember when I told you that he's a little (read: extremely) obsessed?

Yeah. Good luck tryna get him off of you like this. (/hj)

Like, girl- as soon as you step into the lair and he catches you wearing blue?

It could be the most inconspicuous detailing of an accessory - and he'll still catch it.

NOTHING EVADES HIS NINJA TRAINED SUPERWEAPON MUTANT VISION.

—And he is ZOOMING OVERRRRR with the biggest grin and just.

Purely cajoling. An absolute cajoler.

A professional flatterer.

Honey is what his words are made of, made to drown you in their syrupy sweetness and trap you like a helpless fly in his venus flytrap of all-encompassing love.

(Except he's being 100% serious.)

"I knew it'd be a matter of time before I rubbed off on you, bonita. Look at you! Spitting image of absolute beauty, if I do say so myself. Blue is definitely your color. You should wear this forever, actually, from now on. Always."

Expanding on this, he lends you his clothes! :'))

If they can't fit you (y'know, wings and all) HE WILL LITERALLY CUT HOLES IN THE BACK SO YOUR WINGS CAN POP THROUGH AKSHDJDHFH —

*SLAMS FISTS ON TABLE* YOU GUYS WILL DO THE ICONIC BOYFRIEND-GIRLFRIEND HOODIE STEALING THING, IT IS NON-NEGOTIABLE.

(He's a simp. And a little bit freaky. (/ns) But you didn't hear it from me.)

Something about seeing you in his clothes just makes him feel so fuzzy and warm inside.

It makes him feel wanted. Sorta gives him a sense of security. A reaffirmation that you're his and he's yours.

Soft, warm, pure, fuzzy feelin'. Good for the soul. ☁

Like when you hug him with your wings!

He loves that feeling. (..◜ᴗ◝..)

༘⋆✿ Speaking of those luxurious wings . . .

Each time they start to fluff up and flap when he comes within your general vicinity, he gets SO SMUG.

What can we expect from Mr. [Macho Ego] Charmer himself??

"Looks like someone's happy to see me." As if he's not over the entire universe to see you too, smh.

and then you excitedly affirm his words — rather than getting annoyed, even if playfully — and he just gives you the most enamored expression.

Well — it's a fine mix of smugness (because I mean c'mon. It's Leo.) and fond adoration.

He thinks you're so, so adorable.

Cuteness aggression galore.

Once you're trapped in his embrace there's no escape.

Nobody is safe, and

He is fooling NOBODY.

I mean, his own tail starts wagging whenever he sees you . . .

and sometimes, he subconsciously churrs loud enough for you to hear whenever you guys are close, which is literally all the time, . . .

So he can't really speak. Now can he?

(He does anyway. It's Leo.)

If you're okay with it, he definitely pets your wings.

He likes to run his fingers through the feathers. They're just so fluffy.

' Is this what clouds feel like? '

At first he mostly did it to fluster you, seeing as it seemed to have the same blissful effect of him getting shell/chin scritches, but over time, it just happens naturally.

He seeks it out ─ it becomes a source of comfort to him.

Not only because they're so soft and fluffy, hereby appeasing his sensory needs, but also because it's you.

Asks you if you can fly lmwo.

Begs you to take him for a flight by moonlight but y'all will literally go crashing down AJSHDJDHD

Until, you actually do . . . pick him up, that is.

Until you actually do . . . take him for a moonlight flight.

Until you indulge him in everything because you love him so much and would do anything and everything to put a smile on his face.

He's shell shocked (I AM SO HILARIOUS).

A blushing, stuttering mess.

Bro doesn't know what to do with himself.

A turtle? Nay. A tomato.

Someone tell bro not to dish what he can't take lolllll.

༘⋆✿ Sure, he'll tease you a little bit (It's Leo.) but it's all out of love!! Pardon his major ego, he'll throw it all away for you at the drop of a pin; he genuinely loves and cares for you and how you perceive him.

In turn, this causes him to show out a lot more whenever you're around, subconsciously standin' on bidness 25/8 to 'prove himself' to you,

but you also just make him so giddy.

How can he not want to squish and hug and cuddle you and plant kisses all over your cute little face every time he sees you?

He treats you so, so gently.

You're his princess and he beholds you like absolute royalty.

Yes, he may roughhouse from time to time, but he's capable of handling you like fine china.

It makes you feel just as special as it sounds, aughhh.

It's a nice balance in your relationship. <3

At first, he may be a little shy and not know how to handle how trusting and loving you are.

Well, lemme rephrase : he loves how much you love him, because he loves you a lot too!! Whatever affection you give him, he returns tenfold.

You're just so precious he can't help himself, nor would he try.

It's the trust part.

He's . . . well, he can get kind of overwhelmed and in his head about it sometimes.

Especially when his insecurities come to play at the surface :(

He just cares for you so much, it's scary. How much he cares.

— it's a swirling mess of many different things: "you'll put her in danger", "you'll end up disappointing her", "there's someone better out there for her", "why should she trust you?" but at its core, it's all the same:

does he really deserve you?

Precious, pure, sweet, ethereal you?

Surely not, is what his mean brain tells him.

But you're persistent. And with time, dedication, and consistency, you get him to realize that.

Leo is family-driven.

He's deeply devoted to his loved ones and would give the entire world for those he cares about.

Despite his boasting of how awesome of a character he is, he doesn't really believe it like that all the time :((

But he really is a wonderful person.

and you help him further recognize that!!

༘⋆✿ He wants to become the best version of himself when he's with you. He wants to be worth your trust and affection and attention; the self-expansion that manifests from your guys' relationship is one that will turn him for the decades to come. (bro just needs to realize he was worth it all along 😔✊ he's a little slow but he's trying his best, that's what matters.)

It's wondrous what can come from a foundation built on mutual love and trust and respect.

Trust and be trusted.

Love and be loved.

Leo is one who gives and gives, even when he's running low on it for himself.

Blessedly, breathtakingly, you're there to fill that cup for him every time.

And he couldn't be more grateful.

Cuddles close to you, planting loving kisses all over your soft face, from your eyebrow ridges to your lips and relishing in the sweet giggles that he's rewarded with in return.

"I love you," he murmurs. "I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you"

And onnn and onnnn he goes. (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈)

Because he does.

He really, really does.

And you believe him too.

━☆・.ೃ࿔:･♡

One thing will forever remain for sure:

Choosing and loving you was the best decision of his entire life.

And having you choose him day by day as well? Ah, well, what can I say?

He's in the sugary pink cotton candy clouds, and it's the beautiful serenade of you. (⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠｀⁠*⁠)

@cafekitsune + @rookthornesartistry + @animatedglittergraphics-n-more for the dividers / "hc" banner ! 🩷

[idyllcy]

from one admirer to another : top holiday in your opinion?

pairing: leon kennedy x reader || masterpost: from one admirer to another

synopsis: from one admirer to another, an online penpal service, allows for two people with common interests to write to each other without ever revealing their actual address! Luckily for both you and Leon, you get matched up! What do eggs and Christmas even have in common anyway? sure hope it's that modeling business and NOT that Ada Wong addiction.

featuring: reader as scrambled eggs // leon as christmas

Hi Christmas!

What an interesting name. I don't think many people on this service actually use something that creative. I, for one, just really enjoy having eggs so I'm called scrambled eggs. Though, sometimes the doctor tells me to go easy on them since the cholesterol in the yellows of eggs is HEINOUS for my blood tests. So, alas, I am coping through naming myself all things eggs.

I love Ada Wong. She's my beloved, and if I say I'm her second biggest fan, no one can say they're her first because I am her day ONE you hear me? DAY ONE. I AM HER DAY ONE— okay, I'm sure you're not convinced, but a person can dream. Come on. I've literally already read glhf <3 on ao3 so I'd say we're pretty neck to neck. Also, that fan event and the sticker? Thank you. Going into my phone case like right now.

As for her helicopter shoot, what Ada stan DOESN'T feel some way about it? I, for one, went manic when it came out. It was so bad I was begging for her signature on my magazine and yelled a little when she signed it. No, don't rob me. I live in an apartment with my friend and NO it's not an option to climb to the 17th floor.

History about me... I wonder? I don't do much. Well, a little bit like you, I model a little on the side as well, but only because I'm nepotism-ing my way into the industry through connections. I'm not interested in it as a full-time job, but it's kind of nice being on set and watching how it all goes down. Maybe I'll become a manager? But that's too much work. Honestly, I'd rather just be some weird form of sugar baby except not to an old man and to the people who are trying to get me into the industry. I'd love to just be their bestie who shows the bts of everything. That sounds FUN.

Hm, to speed-answer your questions, my favorite way of having eggs is actually in a nice cheesy omelet or an egg benedict, my favorite holiday (call me biased bc of my bsf) is the dragon boat festival only because those sticky rice zongzi are actually the chinese's greatest gift to man, and I write in my freetime (don't ask what. I know a degen when I see one, and YOU my friend, are no different from me).

Now, to ask you a couple of questions back. What's your favorite way to have eggs? Your fav holiday? Surely it's Christmas? All jokes, of course. How about some life updates? We can be like... besties, except not besties because we don't even know what the other person looks like and for all I know you could be some 60-year-old man who's faking everything through the letter. Just kidding! I'm not lying, so I'm sure you're not either.

I'm attaching a small Ada print I found on my table while digging for pens to write back to you. I hope you like it. I think it's signed by her? But I'm not sure. I think I had her sign two that time... or something. I don't remember.

hope to hear back ? scrambled eggs

You finish the letter and sign, print slipped in as Ada steps out from the shower, towel around her neck as she raises a brow.

"Oh, is that the model penpal service?"

"Yeah." You seal the letter and write in the PO box, humming. "Did you ever use it?"

"No. I only know it because Wesker insisted that I know that the penpal service wasn't actually for finding friends, but getting to know who else in the company shares a passion for the same things. I have you, so I don't need to worry much."

"MARRY ME!" You sob, crying into your hands as Ada rolls her eyes.

"I'm your roommate. Also, that contract you signed as a small-time model prohibits dating."

"I said marry me, not date me." You raise a brow. "Also, I made them scrap that part since I wasn't planning on becoming famous. My contract has a lot more leeway compared to yours."

"I know." Ada sits at her vanity, plugging her hairdryer in as you step behind her, helping her out. "It's a shame you didn't want to become famous."

"There's no point in being famous unless it's for the money. What of that do I need to care about if you're legally obligated to provide for me?"

"Really sucks to be best friends with you." She rolls her eyes, pulling out her phone. "Did you update that chapter yet?"

"No, I was going to update it after your hair."

"What did you write about this time?"

"I'm not telling you because I gotta lock myself in my room when I post it."

"You didn't even ask me any questions this time around." She huffs.

"Mainly because I was gonna write angst again and you hate it when I do that."

"God, you're insufferable."

"Thanks, love you too."

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