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soiwj · 2 months

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Has anyone imagine Arlecchino with a s/o who's emotionally detached, someone who's cold, indifferent, and rude to anyone they meet. They won't go out of their way to be mean but they make it clear that they don't like people. Then they're dense so anything and everything goes over their head that has to do with romantic interests.

Loosens up after they accept someone to be on friendly terms with them but is still inadvertently an ass, simply because that's their natural self. (The only thing that gets a positive response is Kitties)

I find it funny imagining someone trying to court them and they simply don't notice.

Arlecchino: *gives them flowers*

S/o: *staring at the flowers blankly* "who are these for exactly?"

Arlecchino: *this the 30th time she has tried to catch their attention* "You."

S/o: *Confused* "oh, thank you. I'm not a big fan of flowers but I guess I'll keep them"

-----------

Arlecchino(a few days later): "We're Dating."

S/o: "what?"

Arlecchino: *dragging them to a restaurant by the back of their shirt* "we're dating." *She ran out of patience and took the initiative to make her actions clear*

S/o: "do I have a choice?"

Arlecchino: "No."

S/o: "ok...?"

Arlecchino: "Good"

Omg this is adorable hold on lemme cook

Im sorry this is so late!!!

Esteemed Guest

Arlecchino x detached!GN!reader

Synopsis: reader works at a restaurant where arlecchino takes an interest in them.

It was a peaceful day at the restaurant. Well, more peaceful for the customers than for you. You're known at your job and around town for being quite indifferent to everyone. You can't count how many times you've been told to smile more. It's exhausting.

You go through your usual routine of taking orders, serving food and answering questions about allergens when your manager calls you aside for a second. "Hey, there's a special guest coming in a few minutes. Could you take out the trash before they arrive?"

You nod your head yes as you walk to the back of the restaurant, having picked up the plastic bags on your way. You set them down as you look around at the street. A cute kitten catches your attention as it's wandering towards the trash bags. You run inside looking for some spare tuna from one of the dishes. You sneak out of the kitchen, tuna in hand, to feed the kitten.

Arlecchino has never been a slacker. Better yet, she is the exact opposite. Structured and cautious. That's why she's never late to anything. Just like right now, she's a few minutes early. As she walks around the restaurant, looking at the building from all possible angles, she sees you. Crouched down, holding some fish out towards a small cat. The genuine smile on your face sparks a slight flame in her heart. She finds the sight quite endearing. As she sees you going back inside, she walks back to the front of the restaurant, greeting the owner.

You see a black and white haired figure being led to the VIP area. You catch her gaze as she sends you a slight smirk. How strange. You just stare at her in confusion as she walks by.

Not even 5 minutes after your cowerker was supposed to serve them, your manager calls out to you. "Our esteemed guest has asked for you to serve them during their meal." Your brows furrow as you look at him, confused. "Why me?" Your lifeless tone as indifferent as ever. "I'll give you a bonus?" You sigh as you start walking to the VIP lounge.

The dim lighting and gold ornate decorations are starting to give you a headache. You enter the room, looking the black and white-haired woman directly in the eyes. Usually, people tend to be scared of Arlecchino off the bat. It might be because of her eyes or her demeanor. But you're not. Your blank face stares at her as you hand her the menu, muttering a quiet 'here'. She looks intrigued as she opens the menu, reading through the options quite quickly.

"Are you on the menu?" She winks. "Uh, no, not really. There's not many restaurants here or anywhere that condone cannibalism?" Your face is painted with a semi concerned experssion at her taboo request. She giggles, finding your obliviousness quite entertaining. "I'll have a bourbon. No, actually make that two." You furrow your brows at her again. "Is someone else joining your table?" She nods, her smirk still very present. You walk back to the bar, giving the order to the bartender. She quickly finishes pouring the drink as you walk back to the client.

You set the glasses down as you realize the clients' guest is still not here. "When is your guest going to arrive? The drinks will get warm if you wait too long." You state. "Oh don't worry dear, she has just arrived." She's gazing at you like a predator would their pray.

"I don't see anyone -" you say as you look towards the entrance. Before you can finish your sentence, you get pulled down onto the couch seat next to the woman. She sets the bourbon glass in front of you as she throws back hers. "It's against restaurant policy to drink on the job." You say, looking her straight in the eye. Unbothered by your cold behavior, she throws an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer.

She sighs as she contemplates your words. "How about this then, do you work tomorrow?" Her eyes start wandering as she waits for you to answer the question. "No, it's my off day." A sly smirk appears on her face at the words. She gets closer to your face as she observes your lips. Looking down at you, she says, "You and me, dinner tomorrow, here." Confusion settles on your face at the suggestion. "Why would I come in on my off day?" She laughs softly at your confusion. Realizing that you misunderstood her. "No, I meant as my date."

You're confused as to why she would invite you, a mere server, to be her dinner guest. Nonetheless, you don't have anything to do tomorrow so you might as well see where the dinner leads you. "Alright, well, I can't really pay. My wage isn't that big." She looks at you amused. "Don't you worry about that, Doll."

The next few days have been quite exciting compared to your monotone life. Although you're still as cold as ever, you're starting to warm up to Arlecchino.

You often wake up to flowers in your mailbox and deliveries of expensive goods at your door. You appreciate her gifts but you just don't understand why Arlecchino is doing all of this. Until now.

"We're dating." What? The candles on the table are lit. Your living room's currebt dim lighting sending shivers up your spine. The fumes of the spaghetti lay in front of you, filling your senses as you try to make sense of what's happening. You look up at her, confused as always. "I said what I said. Any objections?" You're flustered, but you can't seem to deny how enticing that relationship status sounds to you. Especially because it's with Arlecchino. She stands up from the table, swiftly moving to you as she holds your chin, tilting it up. "You're mine." She puts her lips on yours, "forever."

Wow that took me a while but i did it!!!

#arlechinno genshin #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino genshin #genshin x reader #x reader #genshin impact #genshin

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starlightazriel · 17 days

Text

bee 10

series desc: modern best friends >lovers au(fem reader, tattoo artist coke boi az haha) part 10 psa: not everyone will like this part lol don't kill me borderline domestic violence/abuse

warnings: 18+, rough sex where reader is drunk(blurry consent lines, i know i have issues im sorry), unprotected sex, spanking, praise, bj, possessive az, dark az, more groveling, drug/alcohol addiction, az having lots of inner monologue, self loathing, depression

a/n: canon az would never do this omg hes an angel with women bee series az however is a hot mess PROCEED W CAUTION!!!! kisses xoxo

AFTER COMMENTS RECEIVED I ADDED A POLL FOR THE NEXT 24 HOURS REWRITE OR PART 11 VOTE HERE

wc: 4.7k

other parts can be found on my az masterlist<3

ten

Azriel was watching the front door for hours. He knew she was back in town, he saw Kat's story. Y/n standing next to her, drink in hand. A grin, bloodshot drunken eyes, swollen from crying too, a tiny jean mini skirt, a crop top that was definitely Kats as it stretched too tightly over her generous breasts, nipples rings showing through the taut fabric. It had taken everything in him not to throw his phone through the flat screen. She was out looking like that, and he was here, miserable, sober besides all the weed he had smoked, which didn't do much for him anymore.

12:23 am.

He did clean up the house a bit for her... He couldn't let her walk into the mess he had created. He started with all of the trash, moved to the dishes, put any paraphernalia away back in his room, picked up all of his clothing strewn about the house.

1:37 am.

Fuck. The drawings. Azriel hesitated in front of her door, though he had been spending a lot of time in there recently, knowing she was back in the city, it somehow felt like a violation. That was ironic, considering how all of this had even started between them. It took effort not to physically cringe when entering her room, and his stomach twisted, cheeks burning at the realization that she had been in here. She had stopped here earlier before going to Kats. There was her bag. Right there, in the corner. His eyes settled on her bed, three of his drawings laid there carefully. He swallowed thickly as he looked at the drawings, each one made in the peak of his mental breakdown he had been going through since she left. One was of their hands, his own scarred flesh against her delicate smooth skin. One of her by herself, laughing, happy, his gut twisted. The last, of them kissing, him holding her face in his hands, tear stains dotted the page and that feeling of guilt that he was all too familiar with lately settled, dragging him down with it.

2:01 am.

Fuck. What the hell was she even doing? Where was she? He let out a heavy sigh before he picked up each and every one of the messy drawings he had done and brought them into his own room, shoving them deep into the filing cabinet by his desk. That was when the pacing about the entire house began— he couldn't possibly sit still now.

2:22 am.

Twenty minutes of pacing wasn't him doing any good, so on went the TV, he thought some cartoons should make him feel better and he settled on CatDog. Another spliff, some chips, cartoons humming in the background. It was better than going out of his fucking mind wondering what she was doing. Which he was still doing— but at least the mindless cartoons helped to drown out the voices screaming in his head, and the insatiable desire to do a line. He had forced himself to stay sober today... He wanted a clear head when he spoke to her.

2:46 am.

Azriel froze when he heard the doorknob turn, his heart beginning to pound wildly. He hadn't seen her since that night on her parents porch. What was she going to say? He had been preparing himself for the worst.

"You cleaned," a small hiccup, flushed cheeks, nervous, sad eyes avoided his as she entered the apartment. She was looking around, anything to avoid eye contact.

"I did," he rose to his feet, dropping the end of the spliff into a the ash tray he had been using. He took a few strides closer, freezing in the hallway when he finally got a good look at her. Lipstick smudged across her lips, hair disheveled, stray pieces falling around her face and eyes.

"Az," she whispered, her eyes widening slightly as they met stare that was growing angrier with each passing second, the emotion emanated from him, filled the apartment like a heavy shadow that pressed into her chest, that made her want to cower away from him.

He didnt know what it was, what over came him but he was in front of her in an instant, long scarred fingers grabbling her face, jaw clenched, grip tight around her own jaw, her cheeks squished, smudged lips smushed together. She's afraid of you, stop. She yelped quietly, eyes wild, wide with fear as she stared up at him, a pleading look in her eyes.

Stop now.

"What the fuck did I say?" it was a low growl, deep from his throat, she was drunk, he could tell, she could barely keep herself up, her knees wobbled, both hands curling around his arm, trying to pull him off of her. He knew this wasnt okay— no this was wrong, so very wrong.

Let her go.

"Az," she whimpered softly, her eyes glazed with tears.

Fucking stop— irreversible damage Azriel, stop now, before you can't.

"I told you not to fucking play with me. You fucking reek like booze and you look like a cheap fucking whore," a lie, his eyes flashed as it passed his lips, she thrashed slightly trying to free her face from his grip. "Stop fucking moving," he grunted, releasing his grip on her face to grab her neck, his fingers squeezing against her soft flesh, he felt her swallow beneath his grip, his blood thrummed.

"Az stop," she begged, her fingers still wrapped tightly around his arm, eyes wild and nervous as her nails dug into his skin.

"This is mine, its all mine," he rasped, his other hand roaming roughly over her body, "I swear to fuck— y/n if you gave my pussy up," he nearly choked on the words, his blood boiling and stomach churning at the thought.

This is wrong Azriel— stop, stop now. You should be on your knees begging forgiveness, stop.

This wasnt him, this wasnt supposed to be happening... This was his father— this is how his father treated women, not him.

"Az, I didnt," her voice broke as she rasped, her eyes were afraid but also— tender, because she knew him, she knew he didnt mean to treat her this way, she understood him on a level that no one else could.

"I should slap the fuck outta you for coming home like that," his fingers loosened on her neck, a sigh of relief escaping her lips with the motion. He didnt mean it, he would never hit her, his chest tightened, her eyes flashing as his words sunk in.

What the fuck is wrong with you? She's never going to talk to you again.

"Im sorry," she slurs softly, her glazed gaze dropping as if she couldn't look him in the eyes, guilt settled on her face. No, this is my fault, don't do that, don't look like that because of me.

"Don't be sorry," His voice was still firm but his eyes softened, swallowing the lump in his throat. I don't deserve you, run. Fucking run. "Just be a good girl and take off your whoring outfit," he finally loosed his fingers from her neck with a gentle push and she stumbled back, wobbly on her feet, she's drunk as fuck, don't fucking do this Az, this is fucked. Youre fucked, youre fucked in the head.

"You missed me didnt you?" she relaxed again allowing a small drunken giggle to escape her lips, she steadied herself on the near by side table before beginning to undress. His eyes followed her movements as her fingers slid over her silky skin and she slowly unclasped the dainty clips on her high heels revealing the fresh looking French tipped toes, his mouth watered at the sight of her.

Tell her how much you miss her. Tell her the truth, tell her youre sorry. Put her to bed Azriel, change her clothes, put her to fucking bed you sick fuck.

Anger outweighed his desire to do the right thing, he couldn't stop himself, what if this was his last chance to fuck her? To feel her?

"Keep going," he encouraged, his hard cock aching in his pants, pressing against the fabric of his sweats, he could feel the precum leaking from the tip, painfully so, he hadn't gotten his nut off since last time they'd fucked weeks ago. He watched as she slid the little mini skirt down her long smooth tattooed legs, many of them he had done himself. She looked so fucking good, shit he'd missed her. "Mhmm," he hummed to himself, his eyes burning into her skin, not looking away for even a second. She shimmied off the crop top next, her braless breasts bouncing deliciously as she freed them from the tight top. A soft involuntary groan escaped his lips at her now near bare body before him. He took a step toward her, placing his hand under her chin and tilting her head up so he could inspect her, she shivered slightly at the touch and he pressed his thumb lightly into her chin, his eyes raking over her bare skin.

"Azriel," she whispered, squirming slightly under his gaze, he froze at the small purply spot behind her ear, a little hickey.

"Oh youre so fucked," he let out a soft breath, poking the small bruise, she let out a small yelp, flinching away from him.

"Az! What is wrong with you?!"

So many things.

"What is wrong with you?" a soft growl escaped his lips, his eyes growing darker with each second that passed, he reached behind her, his body pressing against hers as he did, her breath caught, her eyes wide as she stared up at him. In a swift motion he cleared everything off of the side table in the hallway, the ceramic bowl that held their keys cracking on the floor, she winced, opening her mouth to say something but he grabbed her chin tightly again, forcing her to meet his gaze. "You come into my house, at almost three am, dressed like a fucking thot with a hickey on your neck, face all fucked up," he released her jaw aggressively, her head thrown to the side slightly, she let out a soft whimper, rubbing her chin. "Who gave it to you?" he demanded, placing his hand on her shoulder and whirling her around, pressing her against the table so her hips were flush with it, another small whine escaped her lips.

"It doesn't matter Az-"

"Tell me," he growled softly, his hand connecting with her ass in a sharp smack, she flinched, her hand finding the edge of the table and she held tightly. "Tell me," a warning edge in his tone

"E-Eris!" she yelped out softly, bracing herself for the next impact.

"Yeah, youre so fucked," he chuckled dryly, without an ounce of humor in his tone. Rage was coursing through his blood, red, red was all he could see. Fucking Eris, why? Why him? He didnt know why it infuriated him so much, maybe because he was so different from Azriel, practically opposites. How could she even be attracted to both of them? His pale perfectly smooth skin and red hair like the fucking devil, immaculate cleanness, infinite pockets and endless confidence and suave. He hated all of it.

"Az please," she begged, and he was too angry to even acknowledge the damage he knew he was doing.

"Youre soaking wet," he yanked her thong down, exposing her bare ass to him, his mouth watered again at the sight. "Is it because you like when I rough you up like this?" another smack to that same reddened spot on her bum followed by another soft whimper, her fingers gripping the edge of the table tightly. "Or is it because you like redheaded pricks?"

"Both," she bit back, her words slurred, he laughed again, that same humorless cold chuckle before his hand connected with her skin again, the sound echoing through the quiet hallway. A shaky breath released from her lips as she braced herself for more, her eyes squeezing shut.

"Makes me sick you let him put his hands all over you. Act like a whore get fucked like one," his gravelly voice laced with intent as he released his hard cock from his sweats, they pooled on the floor at his feet as he wrapped his fingers around his thick length. She gasped softly, wincing at the sting as he slapped his cock on the round of her ass in that same spot he had spanked numerous times. His teeth sunk into his lower lip, cheeks flushed with anticipation, he had missed this.

"Youre mine, you understand me?" he asked, his tone sharp as he slid his leaking tip over her entrance, he hissed softly under his breath at the feeling of her wet cunt on his most sensitive skin.

"Yes Az, yes I understand," she rasped softly, another soft yelp leaving her lips as he shoved his cock into her, a low guttural groan leaving his lips. He had missed this so much.

"Good girl," he ground his hips against her ass, pinning her against the table, another small cry left her lips as he pulled his throbbing cock nearly all the way out and back in, the table shook beneath them. His thrusts were greedy, quick and unforgiving as she fell apart beneath him. Her pussy clenched around him, the tip of him dragging across her g-spot with every forceful stroke.

"Az," she let out a broken whimper, her mouth falling open, face twisting in blissful pleasure as she came all over his cock. He rasped a breath, surprised he hadn't been the one to cum first. Maybe she had been wound just as tightly as he was.

"Oh?" he breathed out, panting softly from the pace, small beads of sweat forming at his temples. "You came already?" he asked, a prideful smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he ground his hips his cock filling her up so perfectly, her creamy release leaking around the base of his cock. She only whined softly in response which was only broken up by a soft yelp when he abruptly yanked his cock from her. Azriel grabbed her shoulder, pulling her up on wobbly legs before pushing her down on her knees.

"Go on," he grunted, his eyes glazed as he stared down at her, she was drunk as hell. He swallowed, wrapping his fingers into her hair and tapping his cock on her face, she loosed a breath, her jaw dropping open for him. She gagged as his cock hit her throat, not nearly fitting, he moaned, holding her head in place and fucking her face. "Fuck baby, good girl," he panted softly, his cheeks flushed, eyes glued to her, she moaned around him, her eyes squeezed shut, tears forming at the corners of her eyes as he brushed the back of her throat over and over. He hummed in approval as she swirled her tongue around his tip, dragging it along the underside of his cock, over his balls and then back up, her lips wrapping around him again.

Azriel cursed under his breath, his fist tightening in her hair as he released his thick ropes of milky cum into her mouth, she nearly choked as it shot to the back of her throat, one of her hands gripped the back of his knee tightly as she swallowed every last drop and sucked his cock clean. She panted, shrinking down onto the floor a bit her knees nearly buckling beneath her. He released her hair as she sunk down, a shaky breath escaping her lips as he did, his gut wrenched at the sight of her. On the floor beneath him, body dusted with red marks that he knew would turn to purple by the morning, he left them there. Azriel swallowed thickly as he tucked his cock back away into his pants before leaning down, putting his hands under her arms to lift her.

"Come on, get up," his tone is soft as he helped her up, once she was on her feet he easily he picked her up, and she rest her head on his chest as he brought her to the bathroom. "You feel lighter... You eating?" he asks, the guilt beginning to gnaw at his gut.

What the fuck is wrong with you? Fucking sick piece of shit.

"Mhm," was her only response, he let out another small sigh before setting her down on her feet. "Where's all my pictures?" she slurred softly, her eyes raking her her room.

"Put em away," he muttered, a blush creeping onto his cheeks as he rifled through her clothing retrieving a soft cotton pair of panties and a long t shirt.

"I liked them Az," she mumbled lazily, her eyes closed as he dressed her in her more comfortable clothing. He winced a little at her words

"Bed time," he breathed, steadying her on her feet before scooping her up in his arms again, and placing her into her bed. He tucked her in, pulling the blankets up to her chin and tucking them around her body.

"Why didnt you tell me you were moving to Vegas Azriel?" she asked, her words still slurred, he swallowed hard, tugging at his hair as he sat on the edge of her bed.

"We should talk tomorrow," he muttered, knowing she probably wouldn't remember the conversation if they had it now. She only nodded, her eyes still closed. Azriel reached out hesitantly and gently rubbed her back as she fell asleep.

He stayed there, watched her sleep, the soft glow from the string lights she had put up along one of her walls the only thing iGuilt gnawed at his gut, at his insides, he wanted to jump out of his own skin.

She deserved so much more than him... The little girl that he had shared his favorite candy with in front of her house, the girl that had saved him, so many times— she deserved the world, and he couldn't give it to her. He couldn't even keep her happy, the dark circles and the drop in weight proved that. It was his fault. All of it.

All day, he had gone all day without a single line.

And now— after he had taken advantage of her, put bruises on her, fucked her while she was too drunk to say no, said horrible fucking things he didnt mean...

Now he needed a fucking line.

A soft groan escaped my lips as I rolled over, pain, I was in pain everywhere— felt like I had been hit by a damn bus. My head pounded from the amount of alcohol I had consumed, my pussy was still lightly throbbing, completely beat up from last nights activities.

The house was quiet, but still my head throbbed.

My mind was fuzzy but I remembered pieces, remembered that I had made out with Eris, come home late, Azriel had put his hands on me- we had fucked. I groaned again, pressing my palms into my aching eyes.

Obviously, Azriel was out of fucking line— out of control. I hadn't thought our situation could get any worse, and now, impossibly worse.

Could I blame him for his actions when nobody taught him how to love someone? When I knew that his need for control had rooted from the childhood horrors he had once faced? Could I blame him for his actions when I knew his brain had developed around abuse and violence? No, I couldn't blame him.

Maybe I was in denial, but underneath it all? Still my Az.

Waiting on the counter for me was a latte and a breakfast sandwich from my favorite cafe, next to it a folded piece of paper. I unfolded it, my chest swelling at the bouquet he had drawn along with a few bees flying around it, the drawing was messy a few ink splatters where he had pressed the pen down too hard, but still beautifully done like anything he touched with his artistic ability. A small message scribbled at the bottom.

hope its still warm when you get up im sorry if you don't completely fucking hate me stop at the shop before your shift, i love you, azriel

Still my Az.

I sighed, frustration beginning to bubble within me. Always lax, always acting like everything was just fine. I was tired of it, I was tired of always just pretending like everything was okay when that dark cloud of depression had reared its ugly head weeks ago.

It was an effort to shower, to get dressed, I didnt have the will to put any makeup on besides a little mascara afterwards. Every movement felt heavy and painful and full of more effort than it should, but it wasnt only my physical condition from drinking an ungodly amount and Azriels- outburst. It was also my emotional state- my brain so utterly exhausted from all of the trauma I had been enduring in the past weeks. I couldn't even bare to look in the mirror for more than a few moments either, the fingerprint shaped bruises dusted along my jawline highlighted by the brightly lit bathroom.

It was even more of an effort to get myself out of the car when I reached the shop. Anxiety gnawed at my gut, would they ask? Would they even notice? It didnt matter, I needed answers. I needed answers to questions I hadn't even formed yet. The bells chimed as they usually did and the stares I received upon my entrance didnt do anything to sooth my anxious gut. The lack of clientele in the waiting room definitely helped, a little.

"Hey," I said wearily to Kat and Cass, I avoided eye contact at all cost, and found my usual place leaning against the counter. Kat was in her chair behind it, Cassian perched on a stool nearby.

"Hey boo," Kat says quietly, I could feel Cass' boring into me. Don't bring it up. I could tell by his lack of greeting he was about to.

"Y/n, please don't tell me Az did that," Cassians voice is soft but I could hear the concern laced in his tone.

"Is he here?" I ignored his question completely, I didnt want to get into it. Not now.

"Hes doing a tattoo, Cassians room is empty tho— if you wanted to wait for him, its been a couple hours, hes almost done," Kat didnt pry, she knew better, and Cass didnt protest when she offered his room up without asking first.

"Thanks," its slightly breathless, with an effort not to burst out in tears in front of them. I couldn't handle the worried stares— the pity. The door clicked shut behind me and I dropped my bag on Cassians piercing bed and slid into his chair. Alone, now, I let the tears of frustration flow freely. They were silent, but hot and streaming, I wiped my eyes with my sleeves, letting out an exasperated sigh.

I didnt know how long it had been when I heard his voice outside, I held my breath to listen. "She's here?" surprise, hopeful surprise.

"Az— Im not past putting you on the floor if you put your hands—"

"Im not," Azriel cut him off with annoyance. I straightened, realizing he was about to be in here.

I sniffled, wiping my eyes again quickly to try and hide the evidence of my tears before Az stepped in, in all his brooding glory. His face was grave, eyes impossibly more tortured than usual, hair messy and disheveled, chains stacked, poking out from under his shirt, he was in the same clothes that he had been in last night and it didnt look like he'd gotten an ounce of sleep.

"Leave it open," I commanded softly, I saw Cassian quickly look away and back toward Kat as Az began to shut the door. Hurt flashed in Azriels eyes, but he stopped, leaving the door where it was. It wasnt wide open, but open enough.

"You don't trust me," it wasnt a question, but a statement, and he was right, to an extent at least. I didnt think Az would hurt me— after last night... I wouldn't feel bad for asking him to leave the door open.

"Youre fucked up," I muttered when our eyes met, his pupils always a tell tale, he swallowed, his throat bobbing with the motion. "Probably should have this conversation another time."

"I was always fucked up Bee, every fucking moment I was fucked up— it doesn't matter," he took a step toward me, I held my breath again, my eyes tracing every movement he made. "Im sorry." Another step, I bit my lip, my cheeks flushing as I watched him drop to his knees in front of me.

"Sorry doesn't fix everything," my voice broke, he winced, his eyes boring into mine, showing me a vulnerable side Id never seen before.

"I know that," he breathed, and I almost broke all over again seeing the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. "Im so fucked in the head Bee nothing I did last night was okay- fuck- it was- Im sick Im sorry," he rambled, he slid his hands into his hair, his fists curling into it, his elbows on either side of his head.

"Its not okay none of it— the fucking bottle girls, the lying, last night especially... I- you asked me last night why I kept Vegas from you and I have nothing- I have no good fucking answer or excuse that makes it okay but I swear I was gonna ask you to come with me, like fuck y/n I wish you could see I wish you could understand—" rambling again, I let him, my tears flowing again, words failing me. "I would let Rhys fucking sue me for breaking contract before I would leave this fucking city without you," his cheeks were flushed, tears running down them, I hadn't seen this before... As well as I knew him he never showed this much raw emotion, besides anger. "I know Im a fucking addict and a fucking alchy, but Im trying to be better, I went to AA, Im trying to quit drinking, but Im fucked Bee- Im so fucked up from all the shit Ive never faced and Im so fucking sorry I put that on you lastnight."

AA, he had done that for me, my heart ached for him. To hear him say those things about himself, in front of his friends, my heart ached knowing how hard all of this must be, but for me, he was doing it for me.

"If you never forgive me I deserve that, I honestly do Im a piece of shit— a fucking stain on your very existence you deserve so much fucking more than someone like me," I wanted him to stop, I wanted him to stop saying all of those horrible things, as angry as I was at him.

"Im so fucking sorry," he breathed again, his voice breaking, with a sob. Az, my Az, the one who hid behind that cold stare and never let anyone in, the one who never let that hard exterior crack... Was on his knees for me... Every word, Kat and Cass could hear every single word, they could hear him cry, hear his confessions his countless apologies and he didnt care. He didnt care that they knew, he only needed me. He needed me like air to breathe.

And I felt it, I felt it with every ounce of me because I needed him just as much.

So I didnt hesitate when I reached for him, when I pulled his hands from his hair, and pulled him to me. His body went limp, his knelt form hunching over as he let his head fall into my stomach.

"It's okay Az, breathe," my voice was soft as I stroked his hair, holding him close to me while he cried.

I knew it wasnt okay, none of it was, but he needed me and I needed him, and the rest I would figure out later.

a/n: wow they are toxic and codependent hahaahahaha NOT FULLY PROOF READ EXCUSE MISTAKES

taglist<3: (if you changed your username and still want to be tagged lmk, or would like to be added to the list)

@smalljasper289 @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @scorpioriesling @userxs-blog @lilah-asteria @abadfantasybook @judeduartewannbe @lindsayscottagebythesea @velarisdusk @serxndipity-ipity-blog @julesvanslutta @honk4emoboyz @bookishbishhh @dakotali @blessthepizzaman @scooobies @durgenyx

#azriel smut #acotar #azriel fanfic #acotar fanfiction #azriel spymaster #azriel fic #acotar fic #acotar smut #azriel fluff #azriel fan fiction #azriel au #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel

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cottondo · 8 months

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hey! been scrolling your page for the last two minutes, and i think its really cool! i like the short story's you do, and i was wondering if you can do angle dust&husker x reader? husker and angle already have an established relationship in this, but maybe when a new patron for the hotel comes they take interest in them? just an ask! thank you!

Hi hi ! Im SO sorry I took FOREVER TO GET TO THIS OMG @airhead-arts

Here you go ! Also really sorry how trash it is , I’m not really proud of my writing lately 🥲❤️‍🩹

Requested ;

Angel x reader x husk

After coming across a hotel for sinners that seek redemption, you stuck a free place to live that offered food, room and board. It was nice, overall. Didn’t have to worry too much about somebody crawling inside your window, trying to kill you in your sleep. Then, there was the clientele. Most of them, super friendly! Alastor seemed a little creepy and weird, but you paid no mind to him much.

But, one of those certain ‘patrons’ living there, rent free, was Angel Dust.

Yep. The porn star.

You honestly couldn’t believe it- - but then again, anything was possible, you guessed.

You sat at the bar, which was surprising in itself, and sipped on a fruity mixture in a fancy little glass that the cute bartender poured. “New in town, kid?”

You nod, giving a slight lopsided frown. “Yeah- - well, no.” A bit dazed, your figure sits up straight out of thought. “I’ve been in hell for a few months now.”

Husk leans his arm on the counter top, and wipes out an empty glass. “So what’s gotcha so down?” He raised an eyebrow towards you, to which you glanced up from your glass and opened your mouth to respond; However, you were cut off by another voice that crept up from behind you.

Two hands trace their way up your arms, parking on your shoulders. The head leans down to your ear and smirks. “Because they haven’t said hello to me, yet.” A voice purrs in your ear. You pause, eyes widening, as you glance to your right and see a familiar face smiling at you.

Husk rolls his eyes, and stands up straight with annoyance. “Angel, leave ‘em alone. You don’t have to flirt with everyone you lay eyes on.”

Angel shrugs, still taking the liking to you anyway. “Oh, please. Y/N loves it~” He smirks down at you.

You laugh up at them, taking Angel’s hand and pulling it off from your shoulder. “I mean, I think you’re just coming on a little strong,” There’s a giggle under your tone as you catch them both stare with confusion. “But it’s fine with me.”

Angel shrugs, snapping out of the daze, and smiles. “See? Told ya!” He sneers over at Husk. “Why don’t I give you the ‘grand tour’~?” His head tilts down at you.

You were about to respond, but glance over to Husk as if looking for his approval of something.

The bartender lets out a huff, stepping around from behind the bar to situate himself beside you. “I think you’ll need a chaperone.” He mumbles with a dull look to his eyes.

You’re plenty amused, now. If you didn’t think this place was gonna be fun before, well shit - you certainly do, now.

With a laugh, your figure slides off the barstool and then glances between the two demons. You take Husk’s hand, then with your other, lock arms with Angel. “Guess I’ve got myself two tour guides.” You smirk.

Husk gives you a little smile in return, looking down at your hands, while Angel nudges you gently, “The more the merrier, doll face~”

#hazbin art #hazbin #hazbin angel dust #Angel dust #husk #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel x reader #angel dust x reader #husk x reader #husker x angel dust #husk x angel dust #huskerdust #alastor the radio demon

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gay-wh0re-slut · 4 months

Note

rhea smut where rhea and reader get into a petty argument (that's not even serious they're both just stubborn) and they decide instead of arguing they take their anger/tension out on eachother by fucking? (this is really just an excuse for bottom rhea again...)

omg yes i can bc im a stubborn ass bitch too hahahaha

(((also sorry this has taken me so long to do but thank you for the request <3)))

Bath Time

rhea x fem!reader

content: rhea flashes her big blue eyes… oh SHES GETTING IT and by getting it i mean fingering, oral, slight edging, hot sexy times

You hear the front door open, footsteps and two sets paws clacking on the hard wood floor, door closing and locking back. Sitting on the kitchen counter eating some cereal, Rhea finally comes into view, unhooking Barry and Luna from their leashes.

“Oh,” she said a little shocked, “good morning!”

“Morning, love,” you kicked your feet slightly. “How was the walk?”

“The weather was so nice, but because of the rain last night there were…some puddles,” she pointed at Barry.

You look to the terrier and see that his paws and legs were covered with dirt. Your mouth dropped but quickly closed once you looked at Luna, she was completely dry, typical.

“I tried to wipe him off as best I could before we came in but he just thought I was playing with him,” her big shoulders shrugged.

“Of course,” you giggled, “well it is your turn to give him a bath.”

It took her a second to process what you said as she was putting the leashes on the hooks by the garage door, “w-what?”

“I did it last time he got all gross, so it’s your turn,” you repeated.

“No no no no, I specifically remember him splashing the hell outta me because I had to take an extra long time getting the mud off of him from the last time it poured down and we let him out the back,” she walked towards you with her hands on her hips. Her booty shorts, big tshirt and little messy bun weren’t helping her look scary.

You took your last bite and put the bowl in the sink, “no that was the time before mine because I have snapchat memory proof of the last time he took a bath because I did it. He was doing surprisingly well so I decided to take a bubble picture, remember?”

She thought for a split second, “no, that was before the fiasco happened when I was doing it. I had to pee so bad that I asked you to watch him and then he got too excited to see me again that he jumped in the water!”

You could tell she was getting a little frustrated but you knew you were right. “Yes, I remember that, but I gave him a bath when you were at a show. I posted it on my instagram stories too, Dom even said ‘wow he’s acting right for once!’ So I for sure did it last time, so it’s definitely your turn,” you crossed your arms in satisfaction, thinking you finally won.

She bowed her head and squeezed the bridge of her nose, “I don’t remember that.”

“Well, it’s true,” you leaned your hands on the counter, kicking your feet again as you leaned into her gaze, hoping that she would give in anyway, even though you were definitely correct.

She finally looked at you, “don’t look at me like that,” she huffed.

You bit your lip ever so slightly, “like what? I’m not doing anything!” You knew exactly what you were doing.

She sighed as she looked at the ceiling. You knew it was hard for her to get mad at you because you never did anything wrong in her eyes. She looked back down at you and finally pushed her way between your legs, “baby,” she said in her gravelly voice.

“Noooo, don’t do that,” you stopped her almost immediately.

“Baby,” her hands grazed along your outer thighs as she looked up at you, “please, I’ll do… the dishes for the week or take out the trash or-”

“Stop it,” it was hard to tell her no because of the overwhelming power she had over you but you couldn’t let her win this time, “you know I’m right or you wouldn’t be doing this,” you avoided eye contact because if you did look at her eyes, it would be over.

“Oh c’mon,” her tattooed hands slowly moved up your torso under your shirt, “we can take a shower after.”

Still refusing to look at her, “I can take a shower by myself, thank you.”

“But it would be so much better if I was with you,” her nails were gently scratching at your back sending chills down your spine, “c’mon,” she whispered, “look at me.”

You crossed your arms and looked up at the ceiling dramatically with a big sigh, “no, because this happens every time, but I’m winning this one,” you huffed.

She left soft kisses on your arms, but you pulled away, only after letting her get a few in.

“You know it’s your turn or you wouldn’t be acting this way and you know it!”

Her soft growl came through, “why won’t you look at me?” completely ignoring what you have been saying.

“I can’t, Rhea,” you said annoyed, “and you know that.”

She let that sit in the air for a minute thinking of what to say next. Though you weren’t looking at her directly you could tell that she was seething and it made you feel satisfied. Even though it was a little toxic, you loved when she got upset because that either meant that she put you in your place or you got your way. You didn’t let this happen often though because then you knew that would be too much, but when it did, it was so fun.

Tricking you, one of her hands gently slid out from under your shirt and glided up your chest, to your shoulder, to the back of your neck, but then the mood quickly changed when she flung her hand around grabbed your face forcefully, pulling your head down to finally look at her.

“Let’s make a deal,” her eyes flashed dark, staring into yours.

Your heart pounded as she pulled you closer, unfolding your arms to brace yourself on the counter. You were about to speak but she started again.

“Whoever…finishes first, has to give him a bath,” an evil grin grew on her face.

“And what does that mean?” you asked knowing exactly what that meant.

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” her grip tightened slightly.

You pulled your head out of her grip by grabbing her wrist and squeezing it, causing her to loosen her fingers. You yanked her closer to you looking down at her, which you never got to do because she was a bit taller than you, and gave her an evil grin back, “You can’t even last a second under me.”

Her facial expression changed immediately when you pulled her closer to you, scared but intrigued. Her eyes widened at your dig, but quickly changed back to sinful, “I could say the same about you, princess,” she gave you a wicked grin as she yanked back her arm.

“I’d like to see you try,” you growled.

She took a deep breath, glaring back at you. In what seemed like half of a second, she pulled your hips towards her and picked you up off the counter. She flung you over her shoulder, fireman style, and carried you to the bedroom. You gently writhed and kicked as she walked through the house but she smacked your ass to calm you down…it didn’t help.

Once inside the room she closed the door to keep the dogs out, then turned around and slammed you on the bed. It literally took your breath away but you didn’t care. She ripped her shirt off and threw into oblivion as she crawled on top of you, immediately starting to kiss over your body. You loved when she touched you no matter what kind, but you knew you couldn’t let this go on for long.

So you let her go for a minute longer, letting her think that the small moans and sighs were a sign of you losing the bet. Taking a deep breath and gathering all your strength, you pushed her to the side of you and climbed on top of her. Blue eyes widened at the sudden change. “Don’t think you’re winning this one, Ripley,” you knew she could never back down from a challenge.

“Wanna bet?” she said right before flipping you back over to the first position.

You grunted in disappointment because obviously she was stronger than you. She went back to leaving a trail of gentle kisses on your exposed skin as her hands found the hem of your shirt, pulling it up slowly, teasing you.

It was working, and you hated it. You were going to win. But…you also loved it so you reveled in it for a little while, letting her cherish you before you ultimately took over. She carefully pulled your arms causing you to sit up, then quickly took your shirt off throwing it into the same oblivion. Landing one of her hands on your now bare shoulder as the other gripped your hair, pulling your head to one side exposing your neck. You swore you saw her eyes turn red as she dove into you, nipping and sucking at your skin.

Gentle moans and whimpers asking for more fell out of you with ease. The hand on your shoulder moved down to your breast, tightly squeezing it before moving to your chest to push you back down with a little force. You huffed as you landed, looking up at her. Her strong tattooed legs straddling your hips, her chest heaving quickly as she looked over you as if she was going to eat you alive. She raked a hand through her hair, licking her teeth. An evil smile grew on her face, you could’ve folded right then but you didn’t, you can’t let her win.

“You look so…helpless,” she whispered almost laughing.

Your brow furrowed at her as your eyes squinted in fake anger, knowing she didn’t actually mean it, she just wanted to get a rise out of you. She did this often when she wanted you to fight back. And you loved it.

“Aw, did that hit a nerve?”

“Never,” you said but caught her by surprise as you hooked a leg around the front of her torso and pushed her back as you sat up copying her pose above her. She looked genuinely shocked that you could do that.

“Where the fuck did you learn that?” her voice was shaky. You got her.

“Watching you,” you said nonchalantly. Finally you were in charge, but surprisingly, she didn’t stop you.

You genuinely didn’t think you would get this far though you had all that confidence, so you hesitated for a second before you decided on what to do next. You cupped her face, gently caressing it with your thumb which led to you gliding it over her lips. She voluntarily opened her mouth, giving you the idea to put it in, “close,” was all you needed to say and she followed orders. Her tongue swirled over your finger with her piercing clinking on your nail, followed by her giving it a good suck. Finally letting her go, she opened her mouth letting it fall out gently sliding off of her tongue.

Wiping your thumb in the process, you traced your hand down the center of her chest. Once it reached her tight sports bra, you caressed one of her breasts, toying with her piercing underneath. Now both hands were tugging at the elastic trying to get it off.

“Oh please,” she huffed as she sat up and took it off for you throwing it to the other clothing, “better?” as she laid back down.

“Someone’s eager to lose,” you cooed.

“Watch your mouth, princess. I’m just letting you get some licks in before I take over,” she rolled her eyes.

“As if you don’t like when I’m on top,” you squinted.

“Shut up,” was all she could say. You knew you were right, as much as she liked being the dominant one, she loved being taken care of once in a while.

You rolled your eyes in response as you dive down to her chest. You began leaving sloppy kisses all over her now bare skin. You traced your tongue up her chest to her neck, ending at her ear. You gave it a small bite, “now look who’s helpless,” you whispered. You gave a good bite on her neck causing her to whine loudly, grabbing at your hips for support.

You chuckled at her response. Going down once more, leaving a trail of kisses, nips and bites, you shimmied your hips further down her legs as you went. Listening to her small but deep moans could send you over the edge easily but you didn’t dare to venture that far.

As you snuck your way down her toned torso, you grabbed the waistband of her black booty shorts and dragged them down with you. She voluntarily lifted her hips letting you pull them off of her. You struggled a bit because of how tight they were but she didn’t seem to mind too much.

You hummed at the sight of her, “you’re so pretty.” The pace so far was intense and fast but as soon as those shorts hit the floor and you saw her sprawled in front of you, a switch went off in your hand to slow things down.

“You’d look prettier with your face between my legs,” she blurted out above you. Shocked at what she said but also a little pleased.

“Oh so eager,” you caressed your hands up her tattooed thighs slowly. Taking your sweet time, sometimes dragging your nails on her skin just to watch the goosebumps form. You got very close to her center more than a few times but didn’t want to give her that satisfaction just yet. You took one last trip around the skin of her legs before forcing them open. You situated yourself on your knees between her strong legs that could choke you out at any second, but that wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing, you thought.

“Please do something before I take over. You’re not gonna win at this pace,” she scoffed out of fake boredom.

“So you know I’m right!”

“N-no, that’s not what I said, I sai-”

“No I heard you, don’t worry though, I’m still gonna win no matter what,” you giggled as you finally dove down to pick up the pace again. Without any warm up or the chance for her to give you a snarky comment in response you swiped your tongue up her center.

“Fuck!” her back arched for a split second.

You let out a soft chuckle. Repositioning yourself on your stomach and slinking your arms under her beefy thighs for leverage, you continued to lap at her core. Her hands for their way to your head gripping at your hair. “You should really let me do this more often,” you kissed her thigh looking up at her writhing. The sight of her was so pleasing.

“Shut up!” she snarled but you loved it. She pushed you further into her, wanting more.

You were surprised that she was helping you win because you both knew this was a game but deep down, you knew how to play it better than her. You’ve studied for this, worked your way around her likes and dislikes. You wanted- no, needed to win just to prove that you were right.

As you were lapping her up and thinking of all the ways to get her to finish quicker, she suddenly yanked your hair up forcing you to crawl on top of her, “Ooww! What’re you doing?” you winced.

“Not letting you win,” she breathed before slamming her lips against yours to prevent you from talking back. Of course you easily fell into it. Unfortunately, she took the opportunity and whipped you back around onto the bed as she hopped on top of you. She pinned your arms above your head with one hand as she grazed the other hand up your stomach, between your breasts, finally locking it in place on your neck. “You know I’m going to win, so why don’t you just give up now, princess? Make it easier for both of us,” her eyes twinkled.

You huffed at her knowing that the pet name always got to you, “bite me.”

She was mad for a split second before her expression turned wicked, “whatever you say,” as she dove down to your neck and began to sink her teeth into you.

“Shit,” you whined as you tried to release yourself from her godly grip. You loved it too much, you needed her to stop but also… you didn’t.

She continued to nip and bite where she pleased until she was satisfied, “oops,” she said slyly looking at the marks she left.

She finally let go of your hands but didn’t let go of your throat. One of your hands found her wrist while the other landed on her thigh that was keeping you down. You tried to wriggle your way out from under her but she refused. Her free hand snuck its way under your waist band, teasing as if she would go farther as if she forgot about the game.

“You’re not gonna win at this rate,” you copied her from earlier.

“Don’t,” she tightened her grip on your neck, “mock me, babygirl. I’m just getting started,” she chuckled as she finally released your throat. She gave you an evil grin before she shuffled off of you and almost actually ripped your booty shorts and underwear off of you.

You bounced on the bed from the force, “damn!”

“Chill,” she huffed jokingly. Without hesitation she immediately shoved her hand between your thighs and began to circle your clit and hard.

You arched your back in response slamming your fists on the bed, “damn!” You said in a more needy tone than before. Whimpers fell out of you with ease, it was so hard for you to hold them back.

She continued her motion while diving onto your nipple with her skilled mouth, sucking and twirling her tongue just right. Your hands tangled themselves in her hair. Unfortunately, with this fast pace and extra stimulation, you’ve never been closer to finishing this fast before. As much as it pained you, you pushed her head away and sat up to face her. Her hand below stopped its motion.

“What? What’s wrong?!” she looked genuinely concerned.

“I can’t let you win,” as you pushed her down onto her back so that now your heads were at the foot of the bed.

“So I was close to winning,” she exclaimed

“Barely,” you lied. You crawled back down her tan body hoping to continue what you started before, and surprisingly she let you.

But this time you amped it up. As your tongue flicked about her center, with her writhing above you, you easily slipped your middle finger inside of her. A loud moan filled the room, satisfying you. You smiled into her core as you gently began to pump your finger in and out of her. Slowly increasing your pace as time went on, your tongue working its magic and her moans filling the room louder and louder, you knew she wouldn’t be able to last much longer.

Surprisingly, she didn’t stop you this time. You finalized your pace and kept it steady, swirling your tongue on her clit, you couldn’t wait to win.

“GOD… FUCK!” She screamed as she arched her back so hard she almost levitated off the bed. Her muscles were clenching around your finger, and her eyes rolled to the back of her head…you won.

You continued your motions until she finally came down from her high. You slowly removed your hand from her as you took one last long lick to clean her up. She shivered pulling your head up from below. You made eye contact with her as you sucked your finger clean, crawling back on top of her. You sat your happy self down on her hips watching her chest rise and fall, letting her catch her breath.

“I win,” you snarled with a wicked grin.

“Best two out of three,” she breathed.

You thought for a minute, “Bring it.”

#rhea ripley #wwe #rhea ripley x reader #i’m so sorry this took so fucking long please don’t hate me please #i thought this was a fun idea so i had to do it

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chiikasevennn · 4 months

Note

(this has topics of murder and yandere.....and stuff PLS DELETE IF URE NOT COMFY IM SORRY HUHUHU)

haia omg i have no idea if you're still open or no but i really like whenever writers dive into the more darker aspects of a character or how especially when a process of basically ascending to something what you would consider non human (monarch in this case) and how this affects a character like does this make them less humane or posssiblllyy twist their morals??

like as we can see with jinwoo his morals is err well yeah there but we can see times where he is willing to commit crimes if the time calls it (often the system forcing him to it) but like what happens when he finally swallows the system as a whole?? LIKE since now there is no third party to force him to do murder or what not will his way of thinking change too? like i imagine when he first murdered the guys in the cave very early on in the series you think that maybe he thought that it wasn't that bad..??

I can honestly see it more if it was another scenario and we add in the aspect of the reader or I'll call [name] whwhw.. I feel like Jinwoo is the type to actually lose his sense of humanity just for the sake of [name] or keeping them safe like the two probably was close but had to separate in their own ways but when they meet again [name] can barely recognzie Jinwoo and i dont mean physically or what not it's more like he lost his warmth and seems more... unsettling.. like do you know the feeling of watching those analogue horror or watching anything eerie and you get that feeling that somethings off in a scene that seems normal but you know something is OFF. yeah i feel like that's what [name] would feel ✊.

I just wanna hear your opinion on a more screwed up Jinwoo because as muchhh as i love the fluffy cutie jinwoo i also love delving into the topics of jinwoo just going batshit insane 🤯🙏

-🌟🎀

ABSOLUTELY!

Jinwoo x Reader

Your wish is my command, pookie bear.

Warning(s): YANDERE, nothing much, maybe too short? Not a fic or oneshot lol js my crazy thoughts

Also guys ples comment and say something ...

^⁠_⁠^

Jinwoo himself was already prepared to walk through fire just for his family, and that was just platonic love. Imagine how insane he'd be for a significant other that he loves way too deeply.

Hello???? Like I feel his dedication and love for darling would be higher than the heavens especially if they're already there for him during his lowest part in life.

My hunch is he's a chill yandere; he adores you and wouldn't pull any outrageously crazy stunts directly at you. Instead, he might convey lessons through various means, like allowing uncomfortable scenarios to set up, then emerging from the shadows he casted beneath your silhouette to rescue you.

Like a "savior" yandere. Your knight and sole protector.

He'd be more possessive ig if his crazy fans found out about you, particularly if they desire him to be romantically involved with Hae-In in the name of being a power couple. Jinwoo literally and genuinely didn't give a damn when they trash-talked him.

But hey, fans can be krezi

ALSO HELLO LIKE WHAT IF THOSE CRAZY ASSHOLES START HARASSING YOU ON WORK OR IN SOCIAL MEDIA (like leaving you death threats or rudely demanding you to break up w him bc apparently according to them, you don't deserve him)? Lol he'd be willing to do something about them, so good luck reasoning against him if you don't want bloodshed!!!

He'd convince you to not work anymore if that was in store for you.

"... Woo, you know I can't just quit work like that and have you become the breadwinner for the two of us. You're getting financially better and I'm proud, but I can't jus—"

"Shh," He'd tenderly cup your cheeks with his eyes overflowing with love and concern, every bit of his attention dedicated to you. "Is it so bad for me to want no dangers coming to you?"

"You're also being unintentionally put into unavoidable situations whenever you're in public. Love, you remember what happened last time, right?" He'd add. With a kiss on your forehead, he said, "I'll provide for you, you don't have to work. I can't stand how they're looking at you."

Jinwoo would mumble the final words gently before pulling back. He'd whisper them solely for your ears, aware that you wouldn't interpret that knowledge negatively anymore—it would now simply reflect his worry for your welfare and highlight his character as the tender and loving partner he was.⁠ ♡

#sjw is hot #solo leveling #solo leveling x reader #solo leveling fic #sung jinwoo #sung jinwo #sung jinwoo x reader

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caesium-55 · 5 months

Text

—everything is orange. [ iv ]

pairing: lando norris x kpop idol! reader

summary: a racecar driver who needed a fake girlfriend to dispel rumors and a kpop idol who needed publicity for her song. somewhere in between orange cars and orange sunsets, stands something they're afraid of naming.

note: omg im so sorry for not being online lately. i got a writing part time job now so... i may not be as active as before. hope yall are having a great day! not edited. not beta read.

masterlist.

Everything inside your studio is gray. The walls, the couch, the floor, the instruments. It's the kind of room that will make a sad beige mom over the moon.

But when you open the door and the sight of one Lando Norris greets you, looking devilishly handsome in his dark blue button up shirt and black pants and Nike sneakers with his curls concealed underneath his dark blue bucket hat, the studio suddenly doesn't feel as gray as it usually is.

“Lando?” Your brows rise towards your hairline. Truthfully, he’s one of the last people you expected to see inside HAN Ent’s building, much less outside your studio.

“Hi,” he smiles charmingly at the shock in your voice, showing all teeth and smile lines. “Do you mind if I come in?”

You stammer, still not over your shock, “S-Sure.”

You step aside to grant him space and allow him to enter your magic shop. Lando’s eyes curiously roam around the studio and you close the door behind him, nudging the houseplant further to the wall using your foot to avoid getting tripped on it in the future.

“Take a seat. Please,” you invite, gesturing towards the couch. Lando takes the invitation and sits down. He looks too big on the couch, you note. He has long legs and an athletic build. Perhaps, it’s time to buy a bigger one.

“Nice place,” he compliments.

You want to snort out loud but refrain yourself from doing so.

Lando is saying things out of politeness.

Your studio is shit.

You know that.

It used to be a stock room that was converted into a studio when Yoon PD-nim offered you that deal, that's why the room is graciously small. They soundproofed the walls, painted everything gray, shoved in a few pieces of recording equipment and called it a day.

It's still quite nice of Lando to compliment the place though. You might hate this place but this is your wizard’s tower, your witch’s hut, your magic shop, and you feel pride swell in your chest when someone thinks your little corner is cool, even if you think he’s lying.

“Thanks,” you say sincerely. “How did you know I was…”

“I asked Jinnie,” he says simply.

“Ah,” your tone falls flat.

A moment's pause.

“So this is where you’ve been working?”

You nod. Suddenly, you feel conscious.

Your studio isn't really in the best state right now. When you work in a creative fever, you tend to make a mess. Being messy enhances your creativity. The sprawled papers with lyrics, the empty styro cups of coffee lying around, numerous pens and pencils (you don't even know why you feel the need to bring a lot of them) and rubber erasers, and your snacks. There's a mountain of crumpled paper in your trash can.

“Sorry, the place isn't really….” you trail off, making vague gestures with your hand. “I didn't know you were coming.”

“It's okay,” he chuckles. “I called, you know. And texted. You didn’t return any of it.”

“Oh, my phone’s charging,” you say, beginning to feel bad that you accidentally ignored him. “And my notifs are silent.”

“That explains it.”

“Shouldn't you be resting?” you asked. “You have a flight tomorrow.”

It's currently the 19th. Lando is set to leave for Japan on the 20th. His team wants him in Suzuka by September 20 and not later than that. They already had a field day when Lando announced that he's flying with you. At first, he wanted it to be just you and him. His team wouldn't let him because he can be a PR nightmare if given enough freedom so they let his manager, Kyla, tag along.

You’ve mistaken Kyla as a member of the PR team. Turns out she’s his manager.

“Is it a sin to want to spend a few hours with my girlfriend before I go?” he flutters his eyes innocently. You snorted.

“Fake but okay.”

“I’m being sincere here, girlfriend,” he pushes his lips into a pout. “Did you eat already?”

“No,” you answer.

“Should we grab something together?”

“Should we?” you humor his suggestion. It's been a few hours since you’ve eaten. You’ve skipped both breakfast and lunch.

“I think I can call a restaurant and make a reservation.”

“It's near midnight,” you point out, glancing down at the Rolex decorating his wrist. Isn't he aware of how late it is?

“So?”

“Restaurants are closed by now,” you state.

Lando shrugs.

“I can make the effort of finding those seafood pasta you like.”

Your brows furrow.

“What do you mean like? I never said I like those.”

“But I thought…” Lando blinks. “I’ve read it somewhere…”

“Huh?”

“You're from Jeju, right? You grew up eating seafood so you like seafood and you once said you have a palate for Italian food. I tried…liking the pasta with seafood. I hated it but I ate it anyway.”

Your jaw hangs open at the revelation.

This is single-handedly the sweetest thing someone has ever done to you.

You don't know whether to be touched about the sincerity or to cry because of his idiocy. You can definitely do both but you refuse to do both. You have an image to maintain.

“Didn't I tell you that the company manipulated my public information?” you ask incredulously. “Yes, I was from Jeju but I didn’t eat seafood much. I have a mild allergy—”

“In seafood?” you see his eyes widen into saucers. Oops, you shouldn't have said that. “Wait, you had an allergy attack, didn't you? On those lunch dates we had? Why didn't you tell me so early on?”

“I thought you liked it!” your voice raises slightly, panicked. You're caught. He isn't supposed to know about this.

“I didn't?! I loathe seafood but I ate a few bites because I thought you liked it!”

You blink at him. That is the sweetest while simultaneously the most stupid thing someone has ever done for you. You drag a hand across your face, a groan escaping your mouth and yet you’re smiling. You shake your head at him.

Points for Lando Norris for making you capable of feeling frustrated and another feeling you cannot name.

“We’re idiots.”

There is a stretch of silence before Lando speaks up.

“What do you want to eat? And please tell me the real one.”

You began listing the first three things that appeared inside your brain, “I like…. ramyeon, natto, and tteokbokki.”

You have a palate for convenience store food. Food that you can find in busy night markets. Food that is sold by street vendors. The kind of food that tastes like absolute shit if cold but tastes like home if microwaved into the right amount of temperature. If you venture in your imagination hard enough, you can taste your mother’s cooking after a few bites. But you don't tell Lando that.

“We can eat that.”

You raise a brow.

“The ramen, the chicken, and the tteokdokdok.”

“Tteokbokki,” you correct him gently.

“Tteoktokki,” he repeats.

“Tteok.”

“Bokki.”

“Tteokbokki.”

“Tteokdokki.”

You shake your head, “Tteok-Bo-Kki.”

“Tteok-Bo-Kki.”

You snap your fingers, nodding in approval, “Better.”

“I literally said the same thing.”

“You didn't.”

“Where will we eat this tteokbokki?” He says the tteokbokki slowly, careful with his pronunciation.

“There are night markets nearby,” you tell him. “It’s crowded though. I know a good convenience store that’s a good drive away. It’s usually empty. Do you go to convenience stores?”

You suddenly feel stupid for asking.

Do multi-millionaires like Lando Norris go to convenience stores? It’ll make much more sense if he books restaurants or employs a private chef to cook for him at home. Do they even have a palate for instant food? What do rich people snack on? You don't know. You're not rich. Even after becoming famous, you’re still not rich enough to live the life of luxury.

This just highlights the difference of the worlds you and Lando live in.

“I do. Just not frequently,” he shrugs. “We can go to the convenience store if you want. I don't mind.”

“No, it’s fine. We can eat anywhere you want. Jinnie might have a few hotel restaurants in mind.”

“But do you want to eat in hotel restaurants?”

His question makes you pause and Lando immediately takes your hesitation as a no.

“We can eat anything you want to eat. This is your place anyway. Show me around.”

You bite your lower lip as you contemplate. Should you or should you not? That is the question.

When your eyes drag themselves back to Lando’s face, you see that he’s already looking at you intently as he awaits your answer patiently. You want to shrink back at the intensity of his gaze.

“Well then, do you want to go on a convenience store date with me, boyfriend?”

Despite the hesitation he’s displayed earlier, Lando grins at your offer.

You take Lando to your favorite place in all of South Korea. Google Maps says it's a three hour drive away. You arrive there in two hours and a half.

Maybe it's a sign to change careers.

You used your Jeep Wrangler. Lando offered to drive but you shook your head and hopped on the driver’s seat, him taking the passenger seat.

You won't allow anyone to drive your car. It's a rule of yours.

The last time you allowed someone to drive your car, your Hyundai jumped over a sewage canal. Lando might be a professional race car driver and that alone spoke multitudes of his driving skills, but you're so traumatized with the incident with your Hyundai that you physically can't allow anyone, professional driver or not, to handle the steering wheel of any other cars you own.

Cars are expensive. You can't buy another car. You’ll bawl when you see the money departing your bank account.

You palm the steering-wheel with your right hand. Your left hand lays flat on the back of the passenger seat, behind Lando’s head. Your upper body is rotated towards the back, full focus activated as you reverse the car in expert ease. Lando is observing you, you can tell. You can feel his eyes burning holes in your side profile.

“You okay?” You ask Lando. The man has gone uncharacteristically silent when you’ve started reversing the car. You hear Lando let out a breath. Almost shakily. You cannot tell for sure.

“Yeah,” his voice breaks like a boy undergoing puberty and you have to thin your lips into a line to prevent yourself from laughing. “Nice parking skills.”

“Thanks,” you say nonchalantly. “You sure you're okay though?”

“Yeah, don’t worry,” you see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he rubs his throat. “I think the seatbelt’s a little too tight.”

Once the car’s perfectly parked, you kill the engine and exit the car. Lando follows suit.

“I don't know why you have to drive for almost three hours just to visit this place,” Lando gestures to the surroundings. “There's nothing here.”

“Exactly,” you say. “Come on, boyfriend.”

You pat his shoulder and lead the way. A bell chimes loudly as you push the door open. You step inside, the British racer only a few steps behind you. You tug down your mask.

“What's this place?” Lando questions.

“24-hour convenience store,” you answer. “But no staff.”

“No staff?” he asks. “So self service?”

“Ah yes, that’s the word. Self service,” You say. “Quite nice, right? We have complete privacy and good food. Two best things in the world.”

“Careful. Your introvert is showing.”

You snort, “First time coming to a place like this?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs. “No staff? Does nobody attempt to steal things?”

You shrug, “Probably not. Ramen is not worth going to jail for.”

“This shop will make a million dollar loss in an hour if it's in another country,” Lando says, his nose wrinkling. “Like in the UK or US or something.”

You beckon Lando to follow you through the aisles, “This way.”

“You even memorize the places of things,” he comments. “You come here often?”

You hum a yes. You stop in front of the freezer and open it, pulling out two plastic cups.

Lando’s forehead creases, “Just ice?”

“This is an ice cup,” you explain.

“Are we going to wait for the ice to melt before drinking it or….”

You stare at him incredulously before promptly bursting out in laughter.

“What's funny?” he asks, genuinely confused.

“Nothing, sorry,” you clear your throat. You don't know why you find that funny. Your humor is broken. “They sell pouches of juice or coffee and you pour it into the cup.”

Lando’s head tilts. He looks like a confused baby owl.

“Here, I’ll show you,” you walk up to a nearby shelf and grab a Kuromi pouch. It's peach-flavored. “This. You pour it here.”

You gesture to the ice cup. Lando’s mouth forms a circle in realization.

“Cool.”

“There are a lot of flavors,” you add, gesturing to the shelf. “Peach, apple, mango, strawberry, orange…”

You read out the flavors for Lando because you know he can't read Hangul. Lando wordlessly picks a grapefruit-flavored pouch. You nod.

“Good choice. Oh wait, we forgot to get a basket. Can you?”

Lando nods and leaves. When he comes back, now with a yellow basket, the two of you continue to browse down the entire store. You explain each of the food. He said no to most of them. Lando is a picky eater, you learn.

The two of you fill the basket near to the brim. You pay for each item, even though Lando insisted that he do it, and you occupy the table that faces that floor-to-ceiling glass window, overlooking the darkness of the night outside.

“Here,” you hand him a plastic fork. Lando accepts it, his brows furrowed. “You were struggling with the chopsticks.”

A shy smile makes its way to his face, “Sorry.”

You wave your hand as if to say it's no problem and plop down on the chair beside him. Lando digs in with his Buldak Samyang carbonara while you stir your Yoppoki Tteokbokki with yours before taking your first bite. You immediately let out a moan of pleasure.

“Is it delicious?” he asked.

“Very.”

You eat until your cheeks fill, chewing slowly.

“Oh wait, you should post something.”

“Now?”

“You took pictures of me earlier, right?” you know he did. He tried to be slick about it but you’d know if someone is taking a picture of you. “Put it on your story.”

“And delete it?”

“No. The world already knows we're dating anyway. Well, fake dating.”

Lando pulls out his phone and shows you the pictures in his gallery. There are aare a total of four pictures. Three are blurry. The other one is blocked by his finger.

“That one is good.”

“What do you mean good? It's blurry.”

“Blurry is an aesthetic.”

Lando shakes his head but opens his Instagram and begins to edit the photo you’ve chosen, “Help me with the caption?”

“I’m not good with them.”

“Me neither.”

“Your first caption was pretty good.”

“You think so?” he sounds hopeful.

You shrug your shoulders.

“Just say something like ‘her’ then put a period.”

That's the limit of your creative powers for the day.

Lando nods and begins typing. He’s typing quite long for a word with three letters and a single punctuation mark. He shows you the caption.

Your brows furrow.

He laughs, “I’m funny.”

“You’re really not,” you shake your head. “Put it in your drafts.”

“So I’m not posting it now?”

“You post it after we leave the place,” you say. “So we’ll be gone by the time the fans see it and decide they’ll come here.”

“That's very smart.”

“That's not being smart. That’s just common sense,” you state flatly.

“You know, I always thought you'd be a cold person.”

You raise a brow, not entirely sure if you're understanding him correctly. Cold is an adjective. It's used to describe temperature. You're uncertain if it can be applied to use as an adjective to describe a person.

Lando must have sensed your confusion that he adds, “Ice queen.”

Oh.

Yeah.

Okay. You understand it now.

“You used to look so cold and cool,” Lando says. “Ice queen. But also an IDGAF attitude. Very intimidating.”

You have no idea what IDGAF means but you nod your head and act like you understand him anyway. You make a mental note to search it up on the internet later.

“But you’re not.”

“I’m not,” you echo.

“You’re actually pretty sweet,” he adds.

“I’m trying to be kind.”

“You don't have to try. You already are.”

“The companies make us act sometimes.”

“What?”

“Like, before debut,” you begin. “There are companies that assign certain images to their idols. They give them parts to play like directors do to actors in movies. Like, oh, you look like this kind of person so you have to act like this kind of person. They take a look at your visuals and decide what role you’ll have. They took one look at my face and told me that I have to be a strict and serious person who is scary and cold and unbothered. I didn't want to do it because I tend to smile really easily before and I just wanted to have a lot of friends, you know?”

You shrug your shoulders.

“When you’re intimidating, you tend to not have a lot of them. Despite that, I followed the role. Many praised me for it and others just….well, they didn't like it. The company was happy, though. They told me I was good at acting. But it's just…sad that the person I am on the screen is not real.”

“Yeah, that's honestly sad. I can't imagine doing that for my team. I’ll suck at it. Imagine me cold and serious,” Lando makes a serious face but he ends up doing a The Rock Smoulder. You have to stop yourself from laughing out loud by thinning your lips and twisting it.

“You're doing it, though. For the team. This whole fake dating thing,” you gesture to yourselves.

Lando mutters something under his breath while stroking his chin. You don't catch it.

“Hm?”

“Nothing. I think your eyes are pretty.”

He's changing the subject. He does it so swiftly, too.

“I know, I thank my mother every day for it,” you joke and Lando chuckles softly. “But don't be jealous, you have pretty eyes yourself.”

He turns into a lovely shade of pink. You can see it. You don't speak of it.

“It changes colors sometimes,” you continue, pointing at your eyes. “Like, it’s kind of gray in the dark. But if the sun shines on it, it has three colors.”

“You stare at my eyes a lot, do you?”

“Well, if a certain thing is pretty, you can't help but stare, you know?”

“Yeah, I guess that's why I stare at you a lot, too.”

You laugh, the sound airy, shaking your head. What a flirt. The cute kind.

“I’m quite the head turner, aren't I?”

“You are,” he agrees seriously.

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

He smirks, confident.

“Careful, you might fall for me, fake girlfriend,” he says cheekily. You have the desire to shatter his ego so you did.

“You're handsome but you're not my type.”

His smirk falters. You give a chortle.

“What's your type then?” he asks, leaning slightly forward. His eyes reflect anticipation.

You fall into a momentary thoughtful silence, “For starters, attractive men who can drive very fast cars. With a racing license this time. Not like me.”

Lando smiles at your light attempt at a joke. Good to know that he finds the dark humor surrounding your career-ending scandal funny.

“I am an attractive man,” he gestures to his face. “With a priceless face and I drive a very fast car. Formula one or sports cars. Oh and would you look at that? I have a racing license and a regular driving license.”

“You are an attractive man,” you agree. “But again, not my type.”

Lando dramatically puts his hand against his chest, right above where his heart lies and acts like you just shot him dead on the spot.

“Hmm, what else? Ah, plays golf,” you list another trait of your ideal man.

“I play golf,” he crosses his arms, leans back against the back of his seat, and lifts his hips a little as he adjusts his sitting position on the chair, manspreading a little. This is one of the subtle things men do that women cannot help but find attractive. You’re also a woman. Of course, you find that attractive.

You roll your eyes, feigning annoyance. Lando laughs at you.

“A few years older than me.”

When Lando opens his mouth, you cut him off, holding up a finger, “I’m older than you.”

By months only but still.

“In the standards of your fake birthday, I am older than you.”

You huff, shaking your head. He is right, to some degree. The world thinks he is older than you because HAN Entertainment decided to lie about your birthday.

“Looks good in red.”

“You know, orange is a mixture of red and yellow. Technically, it's still red. So I look good in red. One plus one equals two. I am connecting shit.”

He raises two index fingers in the air and connects them together to put further emphasis on the words he imparted in a sage-like manner.

“You're not connecting anything.”

“Hell yeah, I am. I am so smart, I should just be McLaren’s chief strategist. Maybe then I can finally get my first win.”

You cannot help but raise an amused brow.

“Fine, if you're so smart Mr. Strategist, what's plan A to your victory?”

His answer comes immediately, no hesitation and he utters it with so much confidence in his chest: “Sneak into Red Bull and steal their car.”

You abruptly burst out laughing, the sound filling up the entire convenience store. You cannot hold it in anymore. You have to slap a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself down.

You don't laugh pretty. You're very much aware of that. You sound like a dolphin when you do. But Lando is so funny that you forget to feel conscious of the weird sound that leaves your mouth for a whole five seconds before you remember to compose yourself and stop.

“You don't have to cover your mouth when you laugh, you know?” he says. “Or try to stop yourself from laughing. Just laugh if you want.”

You give him a look. Why is he turning serious all of a sudden?

“Wait, red?” Lando does a double take once you’ve composed yourself. “Don’t tell me your ideal type is….”

His forehead creases. You nod.

He says, “Carlos?!” the same time you say, “It’s Kim Mingyu.” How did he even come to that conclusion?

Oh wait. Red. Older than you. Drives fast cars. Racing license. Makes sense.

You blink at each other.

“Who the hell is Kim Mingyu?”

“You don't know Kim Mingyu?” you pull out your phone, open Google Photos, and search for the folder named: 민규❤️❤️❤️. The folder contains 7659 photos of Kim Mingyu.

“Fake boyfriend, let me introduce you to my boyfriend, Kim Mingyu,” you show your favorite Mingyu photo.

The one where he’s wearing a black fitted shirt, his cheek against the back of his hand, and the veins in his arms bulging. He’s serving major boyfriend vibes.

Lando rolls his eyes.

“He doesn’t look that good.”

“No, Lando, you are not seeing it,” you hold the phone closer to his face.

“I am seeing it and I am saying he’s not good looking.”

“Lies.”

“I'm not lying.”

“It's Kim Mingyu.”

“And?”

You pull a face, retracting your phone. “Come on, he’s quite good looking. And tall. Very tall.”

You once have to stand beside him in an ending ceremony in Inkigayo. You barely even come up to his chest.

“I’m tall.”

“You’re shorter than him.”

“You're killing me here.”

You chuckle. You pat his shoulder in faux sympathy.

“There, there. That's okay. You're my boyfriend anyway. Don't be jealous.”

“Damn right, I am.”

You snort.

“But you have to stan Seventeen though. After your race in Suzuka, we’ll try to binge GoSe.”

When you’re too full to finish the rest of your tteokbokki, you drag Lando outside the convenience store.

“Sand?” he questions.

“Sand,” you state.

“There's sand in my shoes,” Lando complains.

“Take it off and like,” you make the motion of flipping your shoes upside down to remove the sand inside. He does as you’ve told him but he seems to be not fully satisfied with it. There is still sand inside his shoe.

“This won't do,” he says. “I should have brought flip flops.”

“Let's go barefoot,” you kick off your shoes and neatly place them on the foot of a nearby coconut tree. You motion for Lando to do the same, but you’re met with hesitance.

“What if someone steals them?”

It's a valid concern to have, you suppose. You look around you. Darkness is all that can be perceived.

“Who’d steal them? Cheonyeogwisin?”

“I don't even know what that is.”

“Just leave the shoes here, Lando.”

The sand feels good underneath your feet. A bit ticklish. A little too familiar. You turn on the flashlight of your phone and jog up to the shore.

“Wait for me!” you hear Lando scream from behind you.

“Palli!” you yell back, voice almost drowning in the wind.

“I am palli-ing!”

You roll your pants up to your knees and soak your feet in the cold waves, shivering. You turn around just as Lando body slams you and the two of you fall into the ice-cold waves. Your jaw comes slack, eyes wide. The two of you are now drenched from head to toe.

Lando bashfully smiles, “Sorry.”

“Lando!” you splash him in his face.

Lively shrieks fill the silent night sky. The stars twinkle with mirth at the two of you, the line between fake and real blurring.

Lando flies out just four hours after you arrive in Seoul proper. You feel bad for bringing him somewhere far and not giving him enough hours to rest. Then, he tells you: "It's one of the best nights I've ever had."

He sounds so sincere that you have to stop yourself from blushing red.

In the schedule Jinnie gave you, you are only required to make an appearance in the race proper on the 24th. You have the 20th, 21st, and 22nd to work on your single before having to fly out on the 23rd. Regardless, you fly to Japan on the 21st with Jinnie in tow, two days earlier than your original schedule.

Jinnie doesn't question nor protest against your obvious disobedience on the appointed schedule. You're glad she didn't.

"Lando?" you question after seeing the man standing behind your hotel door. It's nearly twelve and you've just checked in the hotel with Jinnie. "What are you..."

"Just checking in," he smiles. "Do you mind if I come in?"

"Don't you have a race tomorrow?" Despite your question, you sidestep to let him inside your hotel room. "You should be resting."

"That's okay. I'm well rested. Are you going to watch the FP1 tomorrow?"

You shake your head, "I'm going to work on my song."

"Oh," his face falls. "Why'd you fly in early then?"

You shrug.

Honestly, you don't know either.

It's an act based purely on impulse. Not your finest moments.

"Maybe I can watch?" you say. "I'm not really sure."

You don't want to get mobbed again.

ORACLE has a rather large fanbase in Japan. You know there will be curious fans who'll await your appearance in the race. And while you're glad that your PR relationship with Lando is receiving the right type of attention from the public, you still hate having this much attention on you.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Lando says.

"I'll go," you decide with finality. "I mean this is why we're doing this in the first place, right? Make people believe that we're real."

Lando's lips form a line.

"I suppose."

"Then, I'll be there."

The song making can wait.

Once again, Jinnie takes charge in deciding your clothing. You’ve long since given up on protesting or even suggesting your ideas. You have to get used to it again. Wearing whatever is given to you like a doll. After all, you are to return to the stage of KPop again.

Today’s WAG OOTD is a Miu Miu black dress, a black leather jacket, and Gianvito Rossi strappy sandals. Nothing too impressive. It's just the free practice sessions after all.

Jinnie hands you the McLaren ball cap and you grimace.

“How's the song coming up?”

“I’ve been trying to combine my demos and see how it sounds,” you reply. “But I have a concept in mind and I jotted down a few phrases for the lyrics.”

“I got an email from Yoon PD-nim today. He’s strongly suggesting you use a racing concept for your single.”

Strongly suggesting.

Translation: commanding.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Fuck it.

He’s really going to use the scandal and hope it’ll make you rise from the ashes like a phoenix reborn. The problem is that you're far from a phoenix. You’re human. As disappointing that may be but that is the cold truth. You're uncertain how people will react if you use a racing concept. You cannot afford to risk this over something like this.

You have one chance. And if KNetz reacts badly on your song and your MV, you’re never going to have another chance to go back on stage, to go back home.

Yoon PD-nim is too thoughtless at times. You want to shake him.

Jinnie drives you to the paddock and drops you to the parking lot. You expect that you’ll have to find your way to the garage again alone. Your knees are trembling as you step out of the car.

To your surprise, a staff member of the McLaren team—you assume he works for the team because of the orange polo shirt—approaches you as you exit the car.

“[Name]?”

“Hi,” you offer a polite smile.

“I’m Rick, I’m one of Lando’s mechanics, pleasure to meet you,” he introduces.

“Pleasure is all mine, Sir,” you say, dipping your chin into a small bow.

“Come this way,” he beckons. You follow him.

“Did Lando ask you to pick me up?”

“Well, he insisted on picking you up but the race was about to start so we had to force him to stay put in the livery and he wouldn't stay put until we said we’ll pick you up. Said people might flock over you and you don't like it when it happens.”

Your heart warms.

“That's very thoughtful of him. And sweet.”

“That's Lando Norris for you,” he says. “He’s always treating all the people he’s working with kindly. He only has to be polite but he even exerts effort in helping and making our work easier.”

“That's true,” you agree. “I can attest to that, as his fake girlfriend. He only has to treat me well when there's a camera but he’s even going as far as offering friendship.”

The rest of the walk to McLaren was peaceful. Or at least as peaceful as you hope it can be.

#f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #f1 imagines #fluff #fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris #ln4 fic #ln4 #ln4 x reader #kpop idol! reader

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