#and he's still never been my favourite performer in any of them. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dawndelion-winery · 8 months

Text

Tripping Into Love

Clumsy confessions and the silly things they do for you

Ft. Capitano, Dainsleif, Diluc, Kaeya, Pantalone

Capitano:

He knows better than to charge in without a plan

At least he thinks he does, which is why he's begrudgingly forking over a hefty portion of his personal funds to Pantalone in exchange for information about you

He didn't stop to think how odd it might be for him to know things about you when you've never told him

Honestly, the only reason you probably haven't told him to piss off for being a creep is because you like to think you know him well enough to know he wouldn't have any unsavoury intentions

That and his reputation as the esteemed captain

He does panic when you question where he got the information from though

He doesn't know Pantalone have you a heads up simply to have the joy of watching Capitano squirm

"Did...didn't you?" Capitano stammered. "Perhaps I heard it from someone else, I could've sworn I'd heard somewhere that these were your favourite flowers."

You were cackling internally, of course, knowing his informant. Not that you'd tell him that; he could stew in his panic for a while longer until he finally mustered the courage to ask you out explicitly.

Dainsleif:

You were only joking when you said he should act more knightly

Sure he'd said there was no point since the fall of his nation meant all titles and status were irrelevant

But that's pretty hard to believe when he's practically bending over backwards for you

It was hard not to notice his efforts, honestly, with how curt and cavalier you knew he could be

Yet there he was, offering you his knee as a footstool for your comfort

"Dain, this isn't what I meant when I said I'd love to see you get on one knee."

You looked at the bough keeper quizzically. In return, he only gave you his usual, impassive expression as he insisted. "You're tired, it is a knight's due duty to ensure his companion's comfort."

You'd protest if it hadn't been for the faintest of blushes dusting his uncovered cheek, his gaze averting subtly in a momentary flicker. So you sat on his thigh, resting your head on his shoulder with a soft thanks as you shut your eyes, leaving the ex-captain swallowing hard as he stilled his aching heart.

Diluc:

Mondstadt's most eligible bachelor? Or most rizzless?

Sure, he's got the money to send you gifts and little tokens of his affection as he courts you

And yes, it's sweet to receive bouquets and desserts that remind him of you

What's less than ideal is the love letters he sends

You find yourself compared to the most questionable of descriptors that you're not sure if he likes you

I mean, did he seriously compare you to his deceased pet tortoise?

Years of living like a social recluse has scuffed all sense of tact he might have had

"Master Diluc-"

"Just Diluc is fine, love."

You blinked slowly, noting the way a faint blush crept up his cheeks, thinking he was slick with sneaking in a little pet name for you (he wasn't). It was hard to tell him relating you to the soil in the winery wasn't the most romantic declaration of his affection when he seemed so proud of himself. Admittedly, you were somewhat proud of him for coming out of his shell to court you too. But this!! This wasn't it.

"I don't need you to try to be poetic, Diluc, a simple 'I think you're lovely' is enough."

"Oh."

Kaeya:

Remember those poetry lessons he got from Venti? (Well not really but still)

Venti was peerless when it came to his songs, so naturally, you were quite enchanted with his performances

And of course, why wouldn't Kaeya think serenading you would be a good way to win your heart?

Unlike Diluc, he's much more delicate with his words, weaving them to flatter you best

Yet it's not quite what piqued your interest in him

Sure, it's poetically romantic and all, but it didn't really feel like him

It was moreso his banter with his estranged brother that you found endearing

"Care for a refreshing beverage on this fine day? My treat, of course, the Angel's Share has a new series of fruit mocktails that are just perfect for the weather, and I'd love to try then with you."

You hadn't expected master Diluc himself to stop the both of you at the entrance - well, he stopped Kaeya, at least. "Isn't it a little early for you to be drinking? As I recall, it's office hours for the Knights of Favonius right now."

"I have the day off, am I not allowed to drink in the company of my lovely companion?" Kaeya quips, gesturing to you.

"So you're being a bad influence?"

"We're not here for alcohol."

Diluc looked at Kaeya doubtfully, glancing in your direction as though to gauge if Kaeya was bluffing.

Oh woe is you who has to see Diluc burning holes into the back of Kaeya's head as he moniters his brother on a date.

Pantalone:

Money can buy anything.

Except your affection, it would seem

Sure, you enjoy the gifts, and it's nice to be spoilt

But he wants you to look at him the way he looks at you

Worse still is how he's conflicted about making use of his intelligence network to dig up information about you

"it'd ruin the process of getting to know (you)" he says

Which leaves him squeezing time into his schedule to spend with you against his better judgement

He's totally not slaving through his work to make time for you

He's nothing if not opportunistic though

Will most definitely take advantage of any concern you show

"Eyebags? No, no, I doubt I have those, but if you insist, why not come a little closer to check?"

All you'd said was he looked a little tired and haggard, and suddenly he has you in his chambers, sitting on his satin sheets as he lays his head in your lap. After all, if you were so concerned about whether he was resting, surely you wouldn't oppose helping to make sure he got a good sleep, yes?

Taglist: @myluvkeiji @aqui-soba @favonius-captain @tiredsleep @raincxtter @gensimping-for-all @irethepotato @almond-adeptus @mx-kamisato @chaosinanutshell @heizours @haliyamori @callmemeelah @sadlonelybagel @plinkuro @thevictoriousmoon @mastering-procrastinating @cxlrose @astrequa @eowinthetraveler @ajaxstar @boundedbyfate @the-lost-anime-dad @moonbyunniee @greyrain23 @heavenlyfloof

Commissioned by @monstersealclubber

794 notes · View notes

stellar-skyy · 5 months

Note

Sir/Ma'am PLEASE I need the readers reaction to furina's announcement you have made ur fic my roman empire.

RUIN — Furina x reader.

i. SUMMARY: The aftermath of Furina's announcement. (Sequel to Court Gossip.) ii. CONTENT WARNINGS: Arguments, crying, brief use of pet names (darling, dear). iii. NOTES: Angst, hurt with no comfort, gn!reader, they/them pronouns used, 1.7k words. iv. A/N: I think this the best compliment I've ever recieved omg... I truly did intend to make a happy conclusion to this but the angst. It was too tempting... there might be a part three coming :3

The trip from the Opera Epiclese to her home was a whirlwind. Furina’s mind began to stray as soon as she stepped behind the curtains, with Neuvillette’s hand resting on her back the only sensation grounding her. He was kind enough to accompany her to her residence, opening the door and allowing her to trudge inside.

“Lady Furina?” He asked carefully, watching from the doorway as she kicked off her shoes. Usually she would wait until she was alone to begin shedding her layers of clothing, but Neuvillette had seen her in worse states.

“What is it?” She tugged off her gloves and laid them on the coffee table, pausing to pick up the photo frame in the centre. She stared at her own grinning face, chin hooked over her lover’s shoulder. Her finger traced their face, delicately, like the glass would shatter with any harsher touch.

Neuvillette paused. “Would you like me to stay?”

“Whatever for?” She giggled, like it was a silly proposition. “And shut the door behind you, you’re letting the cool air out.”

He obliged, before continuing. “I know that wasn’t an easy announcement to make, and you must be very stressed by what you’ve been through this past day. If this situation is weighing on you, I am more than happy to stay and talk to you. Especially if I can bring you some sort of comfort.” Silly Neuvillette. She wasn’t the one who needed comforting.

“But, it’s a Tuesday, isn’t it…” Furina murmured, half in a daze. “It’s Tuesday. I cook dinner on Tuesdays.”

She blinked. “You can’t stay, it’s Tuesday. I have to get dinner ready for my darling when they come home.”

“…Very well.” A pinch had formed between Neuvillette’s eyebrows, a distinct sign of an incoming migraine. “Will you be alright?”

“Oh, you worry so, Monsieur Neuvillette!” Furina feigned a laugh, like she was still onstage performing for Fontaine. Something painful sparked in her chest, as she wondered when her own home became a performance. “I will be perfectly fine!”

The sound of a key turning in the lock made her flinch. Neuvillette moved away to let in her partner, who scarcely gave him a glance as they entered.

“Furina,” They called, in lieu of a greeting.

“Hello, dear,” Furina said chirpily. It sounded strained. “I’m about to start making dinner. It’s going to be your favourite tonight! I thought I would surprise you.”

“Ahem. I believe it is time to take my leave,” Neuvillette cleared his throat. “Goodbye, Lady Furina.”

She hummed a goodbye, still turned away from the door.

“Furina,” her lover repeated, stressing the word.

“It’s been a long day, a-and I thought we could eat and then—”

“Furina I was there.”

Oh.

She turned slowly, letting both the plates and her fragile grip on normalcy go. They were standing tall, eyes red and rimmed with tears, and Furina resisted the urge to rush over and smother them in kisses until their face split into a grin.

“Ah. I’m sorry dear.” Sorry. It was too simple of a word to try and mend what she had broken.

There was a beat of silence. Their eyes never left her own. “What for?”

“…What do you mean, ‘what for’?”

“What are you sorry for?” They asked, the barest touch of anger in their tone. “Are you sorry you told them I was unimportant? Are you sorry for what they said about me? Or are you sorry that you got caught?”

“I—I don’t understand,” Furina’s face felt hot. “You know I’m sorry for…”

“I don’t think I do,” They snap. They finally break eye contact with Furina to take off their coat and lay it over the back of their chair. “I thought you would be sorry for saying those things, but if you were actually sorry, you wouldn’t have done it.”

“Darling, I know I have hurt you, but it was a mistake.”

“Mistake?” A huff left their lips, incredulity marring that beautiful face of theirs. “I’ve made mistakes. I haven’t stood in front of the opera and told an entire crowd you were worthless.”

“I-I understand that mistake is a rather silly word, but there isn’t anything else I can say! I certainly don’t think you’re worthless, you’re… you’re everything.” Everything was a silly word too, when she was thinking of the only person to strip back her layers and see her for herself.

“Do you actually love me?” The words hit her like a shot to the chest. “Or was that a ‘mistake’ too?”

“Of course, I love you!” The mere thought of not loving them sent her head spinning. “I’ve loved you since I first laid eyes on you. I can’t imagine a world where I don’t!”

“Then why?”

“I had no other choice! They would have said—”

“Let them talk! Who cares about what they think?” They scoffed, hands curling into fists.

“I do! I have to!” Furina’s voice cracked, her composure crumbling with each second they spent looking at her with disbelief in their eyes. “Do you seriously not get it? My reputation is important!”

“More important than me?” They asked.

Furina was silent. The word yes hung between them like a noose around both their necks.

“Yeah… I don’t know why I expected anything different,” they said hollowly.

“Darling…” Furina croaked out, moving closer until they were eye-to-eye.

Her face was wet. When did she start crying?

“I’m sorry for hurting you.” Furina stressed. “I’m sorry for being cowardly. I’m sorry I put their opinion over you. I’m sorry, darling.”

It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. She would never be the attentive and loyal partner they deserved, and they would never be passive enough to be content falling into the shadows. The two of them were doomed to stay trapped in this painful dance, stumbling between Furina’s work and their own feelings towards each other, until one trips over their own feet and sends them falling to the ground. It was a performance of tragedy; one that would leave both in ruin.

The hopelessness of their relationship was not lost on Furina, but it was drowned out by a deep and unshakable longing—to be touched, to be held, to be loved, by them and only then.

Before them, Furina had never met anyone she’d willingly let herself be ruined by.

“Please,” Furina whispered, clasping their hands in hers and pressing them against her lips. Between each kiss to their knuckles was another whispered promise. “I love you, darling. I swear I love you.”

“I… I love you too,” they said shakily, squeezing her hands. “I—I don’t think I can see you right now. I just—I just can’t.”

Slowly, they let go of her and turned to pick up their coat. “I’m going out. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“Darling, please…” Furina clutched around the edge of their clothes, grasping at any part of them to frantically try to keep them from slipping away. “I’m sorry!”

“I know you’re sorry,” they sighed, carefully untangling from her desperate hands.

“Tell me what to do!” She begged. “Please, just tell me what you need me to do, and I’ll do it. I need to know how to fix this. Tell me what will make you stay.”

Something hollow crosses their face. “I want to stay. But I don’t think that would be good for either of us. You said it yourself, you have to care about what they think.

“You can stay. We can simply keep it under wraps.” Furina traced her thumb along their face, committing each mark and curve to her memory.

They laughed wryly, without a trace of humour. “We tried that, didn’t we? How well did that turn out?”

Furina brought her hands back to her lips, brushing a kiss over every patch of skin she could reach. Her words were quiet, barely a murmur into their hands and barely reaching their ears. “We’ll do better this time, won’t we? Just… please don’t leave me, darling.”

They gently shifted their joined hands down so they were looking straight at Furina again. They leaned forward, close enough that she could feel their breath on her cheek, and for a moment it seemed they were going to kiss her. Their lips paused, about a centimetre away from hers, and began to speak softly. “I’ll put it this way. If you can look at me in the eyes and tell me that you can be in a public relationship with me, without it negatively affecting your work, your reputation, or either of our wellbeing, then I will stay.”

And oh, if that didn’t feel like they had dug a knife into the wound and twisted. Furina bit back the protests threatening to spill over, promising them that of course, they would be her top priority, and it wouldn’t be a problem at all!

Because they weren’t wrong, were they? Furina de Fontaine, Hydro Archon, surveyor of justice. Someone like her could never survive in an ordinary relationship, not without a nation’s worth of eyes keeping an eye on her every move. That was no way to love someone. Perhaps it was for the best, to turn her back now and save them the heartbreak that was to follow; to end it when they were still so in love and spare their inevitable drifting apart.

Furina’s grip on their hands loosened with each passing thought, while they stared back at her with hope in their eyes. It was a look so raw, so painfully tender that she almost fell apart. Such hope would only destroy them if she entertained them with wishful thinking.

She couldn’t allow herself to destroy them. They were simply too precious to treat so carelessly.

And so—

She let them go.

Their expression fell, and her hand slipped away from theirs. Without another word, they shrugged their jacket over their shoulders and walked away. Unlike Furina, they didn’t stop to look at the photos, nor the shelves covered in an eclectic selection of books taken from two individual’s tastes. They didn’t stop until they were already halfway through the door, hand clasped firmly around the handle.

“Goodbye, Furina.”

Furina waited for the door to close and the footsteps outside to fade, before she collapsed to her knees and let herself fall apart.

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

#✒️ — writing #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#favoniuslibrary #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #gi x reader #furina x reader #genshin furina x reader #furina angst #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #genshin x gn reader #genshin impact x gn reader #furina x gn reader #furina x gender neutral reader #genshin x gender neutral reader

372 notes · View notes

sourwolf-sterek32 · 5 months

Text

The Dirt (Your Version)

Summary: Meeting Nikki Sixx and Tommy Lee was a coincidence. Being friends was a choice. But falling in love with them both was beyond your control.

A rewrite of The Dirt with all the highs and lows of Mötley Crüe from your perspective.

Pairings: Nikki Sixx x Reader, Tommy Lee x Reader, Nikki Sixx x Tommy Lee x Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Past child abuse, and of course, excessive alcohol and substance abuse.

A/N: More specific warnings will be added for certain chapters when required. I also just wanted to add in a quick disclaimer and say that through my research, Vince Neil's parents sounded like nice, decent people. However, this is a fanfic and for the purpose of this story and the plot, I am changing that.

Chapter 1- My Kinda Lover

Growing up, you always knew your big brother Vince had what it took to become a rockstar.

As kids, his favourite place other than the beach was the roller-skating rink where they held lip-synching contests. Vince would drag you there with his surfer buddy John and sign up every time. He'd dress up in flared pants, loud open button polyester shirts, wigs and other accessories he thought rockstars were supposed to wear and you'd help him.

It was during those lip-synching contests where Vince discovered his love for performing. He'd jump around on stage, goofed off, played air guitar and threw the microphone around. The crowd ate it up, and he always won. Always.

It wasn't long before the lip-synching turned into actual singing and your brother had a damn good voice even as a teenager. And not long after that he joined a band. Rock Candy.

It was during one of his performances with the cover band that his path to becoming a rockstar kicked off.

Vince was in the middle of singing his cover for My Kinda Lover on the small stage with his band. You'd sing as a backup singer for Rock Candy occasionally, but this song didn't require it, so you hung by the drinks table swirling your Jack and coke around in a solo cup and listened.

The drink was an important necessity every time Rock Candy performed because you weren't sure how you'd get through watching all those girls fawn over your big brother without it. They were practically throwing themselves on him whenever he performed and although you hated it, Vince absolutely lapped up all the attention from them.

There had been a few incidences where drunk girls got too handsy with him. Pulling at his clothes or jumping on stage just to touch him. One time a woman grabbed his scarf and literally pulled him down into the crowd of crazy females. By the time he managed to get back on stage, half his clothes had been torn off and that was when you stepped in and started ordering people out or breaking noses... usually the latter.

Most women treated your brother like a piece of meat. Like he was nothing more than a toy for them to play with and admire. And Vince, although he would never admit it, he didn't enjoy it all the time.

So, even when not on stage with him, you kept an eye on everything and that was when you spotted the three men.

They stood out amongst the crowd of young people dressed in the bare minimum while they wore leather and dark pants with their jet-black hair. You clocked them the second they walked through the crowd as people who shouldn't be here.

No way guys dressed like that would be interest in listening to Vince's cover band. So, what did they want? Trouble, probably.

You hung back eyeing the men cautiously before they began to make their way over to the drinks stand where you still were. None of them paid you any attention while you leant against the side of the table sipping your drink.

It wasn't like you blended in with the crowd here either, so you couldn't judge the strangers too harshly. Your own tight jeans and leather jacket might as well be a full body suit compared to the other girls crop tops and tiny shorts.

"His voice ain't bad." One of the men suddenly said speaking up for the first time since they got to the drinks stand.

"I don't care if he can sing or not. Look what he's doing to those chicks." The other responded.

The three guys continued to watch your brother sing on stage while pointing and commenting quiet words that you couldn't quite catch.

Downing the last of your Jack and coke, you pushed yourself away from the drinks table and took a step to the side until you were blocking their view to the stage and folded your arms across your chest defensively.

"What do you guys want from Vince?"

The man in the middle holding a bottle of Jack Daniels instantly stood up straight sizing you up.

The older man to his right remained silent and looked over your shoulder back towards the stage seemingly bored by your presence, so you kept your attention focused on the middle guy whose gaze hadn't left yours, but he didn't seem like he was going to answer your question either.

"Don't make me repeat myself." You said bluntly.

His brows furrowed into a frown, the blankness on his expression twisting into annoyance but before he could say anything, the younger guy to his left spoke up.

"Holy fucking shit. Y/N?"

That had your head snapping away from the middle guy instantly and the second you saw that goofy smile and long hair, realisation hit you like a truck.

Tommy Lee.

Well, shit. You weren't expecting to see him here.

You didn't recognise him earlier. His hair used to be lighter, but now it was black. It suited him though.

The last time you saw him was when you and Vince were living in his van about a year ago. So much had happened since then.

A smile broke out across your face which made Tommy's smile brighten further before he held his arms out a little hesitantly like he wasn't sure if a hug would be an acceptable greeting. If it was anyone else, no, a hug wouldn't be acceptable, maybe a handshake at the most, but this wasn't anyone, this was Tommy.

"Good to see you, Tommy." You said accepting the hug.

His long lanky arms instantly wrapped around your body tightly and you hugged him back, tucking your head against his chest and closing your eyes thinking back to the last time you had seen him.

Your father was a mechanic who worked for L.A. County repairing sheriff's cars. He had so many friends within the law enforcement department, he thought he could get away with anything... and he was right.

When he wasn't at work fixing cars or buddying up to the local cops, he was at home getting high and drinking. And the combination of drugs and alcohol made him mad. It made him angry. It made him abusive.

Your stepmother, Vince's real mother, wouldn't stand for your father's crap and they'd end up in screaming matches against each other. They'd yell, scream, cry and break things from the living room nearly every night.

Vince could always tell when the fighting was about to start, and once you got older, you saw the warning signs too before World War III erupted in the house. When you were little Vince would take you to his bedroom and lock the door while blasting music through his stereo so you couldn't hear the screaming and fighting. He'd make it fun and would use his hairbrush as a makeshift microphone and the two of you would sing and dance on top of his bed trying to forget about what was happening across the house.

When you got older and the fighting would start up, you'd both slip out his bedroom window and get away for a few hours until your father calmed down or passed out from drinking. But sometimes you weren't quick enough to get away.

Those nights were the worst because his anger would turn onto you and Vince.

Vince always took the blunt of his anger. He always tried to protect you from your father's rage and violence, but sometimes he couldn't.

You were eight years old the first time your father ever hit you. He was mad about something -staying up too late, not doing homework, playing music too loud, you couldn't remember - it didn't matter anyway.

Your father was always in a terrible mood, the alcohol and drugs made him worse and at the slightest provocation he would take out his frustration on the nearest thing or person which was usually you, despite Vince trying his best to not let that happen.

Your father never outright said it, but you reminded him of the affair he had with another woman -your mother- the woman who dumped a baby at his perfect white picket fence home door with a single note.

'Your daughter, Y/N. I'm sorry'

Vince's mother had taken you in and raised you like her own without hesitation, despite your father wanting nothing to do with you.

You were 16 years old the last time he ever beat you... and the first time he nearly killed you.

"Just stay awake, okay? Keep your eyes on me." Vince practically begged while he sped down the road away from the hell you called home. "We'll be at the hospital soon. Stay awake."

You leant heavily against the passenger side door of the car while holding his scarf against the side of your head. The scarf had started off white but was now stained a bright crimson along with the collar of your shirt.

Blood was trickling down the side of your face from the deep gash on your forehead. The warm liquid sticking and matting in your hair as you struggled to keep your eyes open.

"N-no hospital. We can't afford it." You winced, tilting your head to the side to look at your brother, but even that slight movement felt like agony against your pounding head.

Vince clenched his jaw at your words, his hands tightening and untightening around the steering wheel as he drove, but he didn't argue because you were right. You had no money. And if you went to the hospital, they'd call your father, the very same man you were running from.

"We should go back." You whispered closing your eyes and leaning your head back against the seat behind you. "We have nowhere else to go."

"Hey, no, open your eyes. And we are not going back." Vince stated sternly while he reached over and shook your shoulder until you reluctantly opened your eyes despite wanting nothing more than to just sleep the pain away. "I'm not letting him anywhere near you again. Got it?"

"You can't protect me from everything, big brother."

"I can try."

Before you knew it, Vince was pulling up into the driveway in front of a decent looking house that you couldn't recognise.

"I'll be back. Don't fall asleep."

He was out the car before you could respond, and you watched through the windshield as he ran up to the house and knocked on the front door until a guy you recognised from high school answered.

"Vinnie, what up, dude?" Tommy greeted with a bright smile.

"I... we need a place to stay. Can we..." Vince trailed off while pointing towards a van parked along the side of the house.

"Who's we?"

Vince nodded over his shoulder to where you were sitting in the car holding the bloodied scarf to your forehead.

Tommy's eyes widened in a mixture of shock and panic, "holy shit. Is she okay?"

"No. Not really." Vince admitted, emotion thick in his voice. "Can we crash in your van for a few days?"

"Of course." Tommy answered without hesitation.

"I've missed you, dude." Tommy's voice said, snapping you out of your thoughts as the two of you pulled apart.

His eyes shifted to your forehead searching for the scar that he knew was hidden behind your hair. It seemed you weren't the only one who had been thinking back to the last time you saw each other.

"I'm in a band with these dudes." Tommy explained after a few beats of silence. "Guys, this is Y/N. She's Vince's sister. I was in the same grade as her in high school."

Both men nodded but didn't say anything. Instead, they turned their attention over your shoulder to where your brother was still performing in front of the crowd.

Seriously, what did they want from Vince?

"Yeah, Vinnie!!" Tommy cheered enthusiastically as the song came to an end.

"Thank you! We're Rock Candy!" Your brother shouted into the microphone.

"Shitty name."

You turned to glare at the older and very serious-looking man. Sure, you kind of agreed with him. Rock Candy wasn't a great name, but only you were allowed to insult your brother.

"Okay, seriously, why are you guys here and what do you want with my brother?" You questioned, the smile from seeing Tommy vanishing from your face as you got down to business.

"We're looking for a singer for the band." The one drinking Jack Daniels straight finally said.

"And who the fuck are you?"

His sea green eyes shifted back to you, looking you up and down briefly before meeting your gaze.

"Nikki Sixx."

You stared at him for a moment before nodding, "okay, Sixx. Why do you want my brother?"

Vince looked nothing like these guys. Your brother loved white. He'd wear that white t-shirt you had ripped up the sides of and sewn together with lace everywhere because it was his favourite. He had his hair dyed as white as he could get it and fluffed it until it added half a foot to his height. It was his style, and it was the opposite to these guys.

"He's fucking perfect, man." Tommy responded.

"He's pretty good. Got moves." Nikki admitted without answering your question.

Tommy suddenly darted off, pushing his way through the crowd to where Vince was now walking after finishing the last song. Nikki and the older guy didn't say anything else to you, so you didn't speak to them either while you watched Tommy and Vince embrace in a hug and chat for a few minutes before Tommy returned with his signature smile.

"He's in. I think."

You glanced back over to your brother across the crowd as he tucked the tape that Tommy had given him into his pocket without much thought because he was too focused on the blonde-haired woman chatting him up.

Nah, Vince wasn't in.

Later that night, you found yourself sitting in the bed of your old Ford F150 truck parked on the beach away from humanity because it was quietest spot and best place to sleep.

Between your shifts at the diner downtown and Vince working as an electrician apprentice plus his small gigs with Rock Candy, it still wasn't enough to afford a house or apartment. Vince usually crashed in the bedrooms of which ever girl he was seeing that week while you slept in a sleeping bag in the back of your truck.

It wasn't so bad, especially this time of year. During winter it was harder, and you were going to figure something else out, but that was a few months away and a problem for later. For now, you were going to enjoy the peaceful beach and sound of waves crashing against the shore like a lullaby every night.

You laid in the bed of your truck staring up at the stars shimmering in the sky above you. The cool breeze was slowly starting to kick in, but not enough for you to grab a blanket out from under the front seat.

Something suddenly slammed against the tailgate of your truck causing you to bolt upright and reach for the pocketknife stashed under your pillow only to find your brother leaning against the side of your truck trying not to laugh.

"One of these days, I'm gonna actually stab you and I'm not even gonna be sorry." You warned pointing at him with the knife.

Vince rolled his eyes, "you shouldn't keep parking in the same spot. Creeps might start to notice."

"Oh, creeps like you?" You shot back causing Vince to glare, but there was no real heat behind it.

"I'm serious though. If some pedo realises a young girl sleeps out here alone, that little knife won't do much to stop him. You need a gun or something."

"I can't afford a gun."

"I can steal you one." He suggested.

"Please don't."

Vince snorted softly before pulling down the tailgate of your truck and sitting on it while overlooking the ocean that was lit up by the full moon shining brightly in the sky above it.

"What happened to your new girl? Her daddy kick you out?" You teased, referring back to a few weeks ago when a girl's father did actually kick him out and he ended up in the back of your truck keeping you awake with his snoring.

"Nah, her dad wasn't home."

You frowned a little at his words because if he hadn't been kicked out of the girl's house then why wasn't he sleeping in her comfy bed or at the very least, her couch?

"Tommy gave me this. Said to listen to it and call him." He pulled a tape out from his pocket and held it out towards you. "It's all I've been thinking about. I couldn't even get it up when I was in bed with her."

"Eww! Too much information, Jesus Christ." You swore taking the tape before jumping out the truck and opening the driver side door turning the key to accessories before inserting the tape into the stereo cranking the volume up.

You sat on the tailgate beside Vince while you listened to the music together on the beach where nobody could see or hear for miles.

It hurt to admit, but fuck, they were pretty good.

"This shits on Rock Candy, no offence." You commented and to your own shock, Vince actually nodded in agreement. "You gonna call Tommy and his sketchy friends to join their even sketchier band?"

"What do you think?" He asked, but it wasn't a question. He was going to call.

Next Chapter

Masterlist pinned to profile

If anyone wants to be tagged let me know

A/N:

So, this fanfic came out of nowhere.

I recently saw Mötley Crüe during their last show of the World Tour in Melbourne (I am still pinching myself. It was the best night ever!) and seeing them in person literally kickstarted my obsession for them.

I grew up listening to my dad’s 80s music which obviously included Mötley Crüe. I still remember Girls Girls Girls blasting through the car on the way to school when I was 8. And although I’ve liked their music since I was a kid, I never really knew much about them beyond that.

But when my dad asked if I wanted to go to the Mötley Crüe concert with him, I didn’t even hesitate.

I’ll be honest, I had never watched The Dirt before until Vince said during the concert that Mötley Crüe had made a movie and I googled it as soon as I got home.

After watching the movie and seeing them live in concert, I was hooked.

I bought their book The Dirt and binged it in 2 days (that is one hell of a rollercoaster to read) and now I’m literally typing this while wearing a Mötley shirt.

I won’t try and pretend to have been a Cruehead all my life because that isn’t true, but I am so incredibly glad that I have found this love for Mötley Crüe and I hope you all enjoy this fanfic xx

#motley crue #nikki sixx #tommy lee #vince neil #mick mars #nikki sixx x reader #tommy lee x reader #nikki sixx fanfiction #tommy lee fanfic #motley crue x reader #the dirt #nikki sixx x you #nikki sixx x tommy lee x reader #motley crue fanfiction #80s rock #glam metal

194 notes · View notes

blue-jisungs · 1 year

Text

you get hurt ♡

a/n. the burn one … real life events inspired. although i didn’t put aloe vera i just googled it up for this drabble LMAO but like i got burnt month and a half? two months? ago and i still have a mark 😦 i thought it wouldn’t stay for so long wtf (i mean i still have it?? is it normal😭)

also it’s been ages since i wrote for my beloved tubatu i’m so sorry :(

┆彡 YEONJUN [ 연준 ]

due to your approaching performance at mama, you had to practice practice and practice

one day you forgot to wear longer pants and well, your knees felt like they were literally on fire - due to how much kneeling and sliding on the floor your part required

you literally looked like a zombie while wobbling to your boyfriend’s dorm after practice

and yeonjun is no fool. he’s been in situations like these and he can immediately recognise scraped knees

but he lets you sit down first and pamper you with kisses

after you two ate dinner, he gently rubs your thighs and lets out a deep sigh before standing up and going to get something

you watch him as he kneels down in front of you and slowly rolls up your sweatpants, just above the knee. you feel guilt sinking in your stomach but the look that yeonjun gives you is full of love.

“please tell me next time. or if you forget your knee protectors, i can drop them off. or give you mine” he hums and takes out something from the first aid kit he just brought “it might sting a bit”

it does sting. more than a bit. but the way your boyfriend gently, almost feather-lightly badges your knee is making you forget about the pain.

with a look in your eye and a boyish smile, he places a tender kiss on the top of the bandage he just put

“so it heals faster” yeonjun singsongs and softly rolls down the sweatpants’ material. your heart might explode any minute now.

in conclusion: you can’t fool him. on top of that, next time he’ll make sure to pack you an extra pair of sweatpants or knee protectors along with a sticky note with something absolutely adorable written on it <3

┆彡 SOOBIN [ 수빈 ]

for your excuse you just woke up.

and walking down the stairs, yknow, it’s hard

soobin was making trying to make breakfast downstairs when he suddenly heard a loud ass bang and series of falling-down-the-stairs alike sounds

he rushed to check up on you and when he saw you, awkwardly half-sitting half-laying in the floor his heart dropped

but he let out a scoff before he helped you out

and that was your trigger >:(

“are you laughing at me?” you asked, voice creaking as you looked up at soobin. your glossy eyes made his heart break and he felt extremely bad.

“i didn’t mean to, i’m so sorry! please don’t cry, darling” he pouted but you didn’t listen, the tears streaming down your cheeks because of the pain. soobin rushed to the kitchen to grab a first aid kit.

he kneeled down and put plasters on your scraped knees and elbows, his heart aching at the sound of your sobs.

“please don’t cry” he murmurs and you sniff. suddenly he hugs you tightly and only now you realise that soobin is crying too.

yeah well that turns into couples crying session :”)

soobin takes care of your for the next three days

and makes a mental note to never laugh at you again… even if he really didn’t mean it

┆彡 BEOMGYU [ 범규 ]

beomgyu was at home, preparing a surprise-romantic-dinner for you when he received a phone call from you

he got flabbergasted – you weren’t supposed to be home yet

“gyu don’t freak out” you started, voice calm.

“why would i freak out?” he chuckled, stirring your favourite dish in a pot

“because i tell you not to. you promise?”

“okay, i promise–“

“i may or may have not got into a car accident–”

“WHAT!”

beomgyu drops everything, turns off the stove and grabs the most necessary things as you try to explain everything to him

“IT’S NOTHING SERIOUS! well, kind of, i have to stay overnight…”

“I’M COMING!”

you were watching youtube on your phone when the doors swung open. you saw gyu standing the the doorway, huge teddy bear in his arms and bunch of bags.

“IT’S NOTHING SERIOUS? YOU GOT A BANDAID ON YOUR HEAD AND–” he started and you pointed at your arm, saying it along with him.

“and a broken arm…”

“–AND A BROKEN ARM?!”

“could you possibly stop yelling?” you laugh and take the opened bottle of banana milk “look what they got me though!”

beomgyu sighs and closes the door. he sits down next to you, tucking the teddy bear next to you. his worried expression makes your heart ache and you frown a bit.

“sorry” you mumble, looking down. beomgyu just cups your face and placed a tender kiss on your forehead.

“don’t be. although i was worried sick. also, i asked the nurses and i can stay overnight with you” gyu smiled sweetly.

he gets a pen and writes silly stuff on your cast

he’s so gentle when you sleep :( like, obv he’s clingy so he ticks himself (somehow) next to you on the hospital bed but he’s so cautious not to move your broken arm *sobs*

babies you until your arm heals and even after he’s attentive

oh and gives you a long ass lecture about getting into accidents (as if it was your fault😭)

┆彡 TAEHYUN [ 태현 ]

taehyun is smart and you should have listened to him when he said not to run on A SNOWY PATH

but pop off, you didn’t #girlboss because during the snow fight you had with him, you were out of your ammo 🙀

so you ran to grab some snow

and well, you ended up slipping and painfully landing on your ass

you were so taken aback by the sudden fall that you stared at taehyun in disbelief while he laughed his ass off

you pouted and formed a snowball, throwing it at him

“don’t laugh at me!” >:(

tae shook his head and walked up to you, reaching his hand out.

“sorry baby. are you okay?” he asked, voice as warm as a cup of tea and you shook your head.

“it hurts” you mumbled and took his hand nevertheless. your matching mittens made you smile a bit but you were brought back to earth as a stinging pain came through your bones.

“but you can stand. it means you didn’t break anything which is a good sign…” tae started, looking at you carefully. your legs were a bit wobbly. you pouted and he couldn’t help but scoff “i know what you’re planning”

“but it hurts! and it’s not my fault that gym is like, your second home now!” you whine and tug his sleeve “please?”

“fine. but im not taking any responsibility if i drop you” taehyun sends you a grin before kneeling so you can climb on his back.

yeah well it was close because the sidewalk was slippery but you safely made it home

after coming back he did a proper inspection as you warmed up with a warm cup of tea

later on he gave you a speech but it was interrupted due to your question who won the snow fight

(it was him but he lied to make you feel better lmao😭)

┆彡 HUENING KAI [ 휴닝카이 ]

you decided to surprise your boyfriend and bake him molang-shaped cookies

everything was going according to plan… until whilst taking out the cookies from the oven you actually put your wrist against the hot metal of the baking tray

you quickly put your wrist under the water and when it was stinging less, you continued on decorating the cookies

you put on a hoodie and hid the burn - you didn’t want kai to worry about it too much

but well… he came back home and obviously noticed the cookies, then smothered your face in kisses <3

you decided to eat them (after kai taking tons of pics) while watching a movie

you grabbed a cookie and moved your hand to your mouth, taking a bite. your sleeve shifted downwards due to your movement but you didn’t notice, too absorbed in the movie.

“what’s that?” you heard kai’s worried voice and you looked at him, confused. he sat up straightly, pausing the movie and gently took your wrist. oh.

“nothing, really” you said after you swallowed but his brows furrowed seriously.

“nothing? y/n, it’s a burn… wait… don’t tell me it happened because of those adorable cookies?” he gasped, trying to lighten up the mood but you could clearly see he’s worried.

“well, yeah…” you mumbled and kai just let out a deep sigh, standing up to get something “where are you going?”

“i heard aloe vera is good for that kind of burns!” he calls back and after he returns, you’re met with a gentle kiss on your cheek (and the cool of aloe vera on your skin).

he got so worried :(

please tell him next time <\\3

also watches if the wound heals properly and quickly!! kai will do a lot of research to help you as much as he can, even though you reassure him it’s not necessary

[ masterlist <3 ]

taglist. @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinhobi ,, @jung0ne ,, @ka-ni-ma ,, @julaute

3K notes · View notes

petracozbi · 12 days

Text

I'm finally came around to do my own Trolls HC list-thing (most are Branch related cuz he's my favourite):

Branch has almost perfectly trained senses from living and surviving on his own in the wilderness; he's got a very sensitive nose and he can easily hear the smallest movements even if they're fairly far away, etc.

Poppy makes sure to at least make a little noise when approaching Branch, as to not catch him off guard, since he had a tendency to get lost in thought when he feels he's in a safe and secure space, and can lower his defences. Kismet does the same (they're found family to me idc)

In the beginning, the bros found it kind of annoying/confusing how Poppy would start getting louder and yell out Branch's name every time they were getting close to him, probably shrugging it off to her just being a very hyper and overexcited girlfriend. It wasn't until they got to experience first-hand how Branch reacted when they suddenly just touched him while deep in thought, and let's just say, after having their arm pinned behind their back and a sharpened stick held to their throat a few too many times, they learned to give a heads-up.

Branch needs glasses. He stopped wearing them after Rosiepuff got eaten to fully avoid any connection with Brozone and his boyband persona. He's not completely blind and can still get around, but he relies mostly on his other senses (which also got way more sharp because of that), and has to get up close to see things in detail.

A HC I think I shared before: Branch is freakishly strong, but doesn't look it at first glance - He's very much humbled the bros (especially JD and Bruce) with this fact, when they try to wrestle him into a headlock to give him a nookie or a Wet Willy (JD and Bruce) and he just won't budge (Kismet knows to not even try) or when they want to help him carry something and they almost collapse under they weight when he hands it to them.

Besides being his vehicle, Rhonda is also JD's (unofficial) therapy animal.

Clay can't swim. He never learned since he spent his entire life in either the trolltree or the abandon golfcourse. When Bruce learns this, he takes it upon himself to try and teach him, but to their shared frustration, they both (Clay and Bruce) discover that Clay is apparently deadly afraid of open waters.

Bruce also didn't know how to swim when he first left the trolltree. He got washed up on vacay Island, having been staying afloat by holding onto a branch. The vacationers taught him how to swim.

JD can cook circles around most trolls. He did most of the cooking back in the trolltree 'cuz Rosiepuff was a horrible cook (referencing her apparently rancid-tasting fluffleberry cake), he also taught (Sp)Bruce how to cook, but never got around to teach the others 'cuz they split up. Bruce later incorporated some of JD's recipes into the menu at the restaurant.

Branch's tastebuds are pretty hardened (some might say almost nonexistent), and trolls tend to assume it's from his survival years, where he'd just eat whatever as long as it was edible, didn't matter what it tasted like. In reality, it's mostly from solely eating Rosiepuff's cooking for like maybe a year or two after the band split up (yeah that's all it took to mess them tastebuds up for years after). Ofc in the beginning, he had to force himself to even put the food in his mouth, but he did it 'cuz he wanted to make his grandma happy.

Kismet was formed shortly after the bros left. It was Rosiepuff who encouraged Branch to socialize with other trollings around his age, since he became very closed off after the split (tho' I think he'd been a pretty shy and quiet kid to begin with (with the exception of when he performed as Bitty B))

Branch used to get bullied (more) for his greyness as a kid. Kismet would chase them off.

Although Branch is not as forgiving either, Kismet 100% holds a grudge for the bros leaving Branch - the Snackpack too, when they also learn what happened.

The bros are absolutely bewildered by the fact that Branch is dating the Queen, and that he'd probably one day be King. Branch himself gets very anxious when they mention this; just the thought of that much responsibility and being in the spotlight like that has him sweating.

Bruce's favorite way of annoying Branch is to tease him about his and Poppy's relationship, asking him when he can expect the wedding invitations and some nieces or nephews. In reality, it's probably Poppy that proposes in the future, with a long, romantic and heartfelt speech ofc (and yes, he cries).

That's all I got for now

117 notes · View notes

florenceafternoon · 4 months

Text

━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━

Really, we shouldn’t be surprised by now but I have more amazing jily AU fics to share because the writers of this fandom are incredibly talented and I have my screen report to prove it.

For reference, anything in italics is taken from the summaries on ao3.

serendipity by desperateforsanity (on ao3)

Modern college/uni AU. Dearest Students and Staff, I am pleased to announce Hogwarts University’s fourth annual Pen Pal Program. Upperclassmen and sophomores likely remember and cherish the memories of their previous penpals and are excited to make another friend this year.

TW: for the later chapters for discussions of grief and its effects on one's mental well-being. For the most part, though this is a fun fic full of great banter!

The Frenzied Misadventures of Balcony Man and Window Woman by @clare-with-no-i

prompt: "It's 3am why are you outside my window- are you trying to rob me?"

It feels necessary to preface this entire thing with the fact that, yes, James had good reason to be dangling precariously from a third-floor balcony, and anyone who says differently is simply attempting to smear his good name.

At least, that’s the story he’s sticking to.

Hijinks & Shenanigans

mellow is the man (who knows what he's been missing) also by @/ clare-with-no-i

Earl's Court. 24th May, 1975. Led Zeppelin live in concert like you've never seen them before.

FEATURING: prolonged eye contact, deeply metaphoric descriptions of cigarette smoke, painful levels of detail about makeup, and a special one-time performance by Two Teens In Love! OR: the "we made eye contact at a Led Zeppelin concert but my friends pulled me away to mosh before I could come say hello" AU

So when I say that I saw this unfold frame by frame in my head, I mean the writing is on another level. The way that I could almost smell Earl Court ... I regret waiting so long to read it. Also, found out this is written by the same author as one of my favourite jily fics foreigner’s god so that explains it “I'm not a religious person but I do sometimes think God made you for me.” ― Sally Rooney, Normal People

but he’s a little bit too far away by @firefeufuego

Historical AU. A decade after they met as cadets for The Times, the toll of James chasing stories in war zones is starting to hit home for Lily.

Taking A Shot At You by @annabtg

Modern AU. Lily Evans, pharmacist, has to work all day and night on New Year's Eve - and ends up ringing in the new year with a bloke who just got himself a dog bite.

The Right Track by BeeDaily (on ao3)

Co-workers modern AU. When James is first handed the train ticket, his immediate reaction is to laugh openly in his father's face.

the horoscope by lirians

Modern AU. James stops momentarily to give way to a bunch of rambunctious teenagers on the pavement before he regains his step. Lily has come to a halt a bit further, waiting on him.

“Horoscopes?” he asks as they move onwards. He’s relieved that any awkwardness between them is apparently gone. “How so?”

“Marly sent me mine this week because it said I would meet someone from the past again,” she explains. “I’m still not sold on the idea of it, but isn’t this weird?”

I was inspired to read this by this art

The Falcon and The Squid by @jfleamont

There's a Lego Millennium Falcon that needs to be built. There's also a bet, a ring and a bike.

Put it all together and what do you get?

Leda's jily will always be a favourite of mine. They're idiots in love your honour

Glastonbury by elanev91 (on ao3)

Prompt: we're at a music festival and you crawled into my tent when drunk and fell asleep, now you've woken up bewildered and to be honest I should be more annoyed but you're just so good looking

One Day at Time by @sweeethinny

Single-mum-lily AU. One day at a time is the mantra Lily uses to keep peace inside her mind, but there are days when it's simply impossible and in the end all she needs is a glass of wine, a cozy hug with her boyfriend, and a serious talk with her son.

Note that you can read this as a stand-alone one shot but it's part of a series that takes place in this AU

For All My Life by aheartcalledhome & SecondJadeofLan (on ao3)

When saving the bees ends in a happy family.

pumpkins and blueberries by evotter (on ao3)

Modern soulmate AU. In which Lily Evans hates puzzles, Marlene McKinnon is a coffee-making goddess, and the stuffy manager with the unkempt hair just so happens to be Lily's soulmate. In the wise words of Mary Macdonald, nothing is scarier than a relationship. Especially if it's with your soulmate.

After Moon by lovesickjily (on ao3)

When the universe sent Lily back in time for some inexplicable reason, she didn’t realise that she’d fall for the charming, messy-haired Prince along the way, nor did she realise that she’d see him once again.

here's to never growing up by elixirsoflife (on ao3)

Chat fic where a group chat documents the lives of four highly dramatic teenage boys as they navigate their A Levels.

Or, like, die trying.

Okay, I rarely ever read chat fics, they're just not my thing. BUT this one had me wheezing on my way to school. It's crack. Just treat it like crack

Ice Baby also by elixirsoflife

Modern college/uni AU. In his defence, James never expected to meet his soulmate at thirteen minutes past eleven on a Sunday morning when he’s aiming a puck at Sirius’ balls.

Or: call me sweetheart again and I'll punch you in the throat.

Not a Clue by PotterandEvans (on ao3)

Modern college/uni Quarantine AU. Lily stood in the doorway of the flat, looking at the boy in front of her. She had spent most of the last two years keeping her distance from the annoying piece of work, staying away from his ego mostly. “Come in.” She said, stepping away from the doorway to let him into the flat that she usually shared with Remus.

"Ah, so kind." James muttered as he walked inside, his heavy bag weighing him down. This really was not the ideal situation, for either of them. But he had nowhere else to go, so staying with Lily Evans it was going to have to be.

they were zoommates (requires an ao3 account) by elanev91 (on ao3)

Modern college/uni Quarantine AU. Lily's on lockdown and, because she can't help herself, signs herself up for a whole bunch of extra (and free) work with her ad agency. Minerva, her boss, assigns a cheeky social media manager to her team to help her. Also, Marlene discovers TikTok (this is nowhere near as important to the narrative as its inclusion here suggests).

And You Heard About Me (Ooh, We’ve Got Some Big Enemies!) by @wearingaberetinparis

Fame AU. Lily Evans is a Grammy-winning singer-songwriter and global superstar, who recently broke up from her latest and long-term actor boyfriend Amos Diggory. James Potter is a professional football player who plays as a forward for Manchester United and has never been quiet about his celebrity crush: Lily Evans. When Lily Evans thus plays at Wembley Stadium - a place he is more than familiar with due to his being part of the England team - he just has to go and see her perform, embracing his inner, besotted fan boy, while the woman on stage is completely oblivious to his presence. Or is she?

The most unrealistic part was man u winning (but it's James so that explains it). Regardless, I started this fic while waiting for my final grades from last year to come through, and while they were disappointing, this sure wasn't. I was crying so hard that I fell asleep. Then I woke up and continued the fic and suddenly I was giggling along with Lilly. Anything and everything Mary writes is a masterpiece. Thank you for sharing this wonderful story.

it continues (the beginning doesn't matter) by whitesunlars (on ao3)

She is the last person he expected at his door at that exact moment, despite feeling unsure about the fact that she managed to track down his address, he agrees to go out to coffee with her. A lot could be said about James Potter, but nobody could claim that he had good self-preservation skills.

They meet in a bar. Mistakes happen. They learn to keep going.

#jily fic rec #jily #jple #lily evans #james potter

126 notes · View notes

sihtricfedaraaahvicius · 2 months

Text

Mechanic!Sihtric NSFW alphabet

Note: HCs based on my mechanic fic: part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8 - part 9 - part 10 - part 11 - part 12

This was actually so fun, because not much is known about him in this fic in this regard yet, so here you have it...

template source.

Warnings: 18+!! smut.

pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f)

summary: -

wordcount: 2k

Masterlist

A=Aftercare - What they do/act like after sex.

Sihtric will always immediately pull you in his arms and hold you tight while peppering you with soft kisses. He will check in with you, asking if you are feeling good and/or satisfied and then he will simply praise you by telling you how good you were for him. He will always apply some cooling lotion to ease your bruised buttocks after a spanking, and furthermore he'll provide you with anything you want; snacks, drinks, cuddles, watching a movie or simply reading to you from your favourite book while you're all snuggled up. It doesn't matter what time of the day it is, whatever his princess wants, he'll get for you (or something close to it). However, Sihtric also needs the reassurance himself that he has been good to you and didn't unintentionally cross a boundary.

B=Bondage - Are they into BDSM, and how far they’ll go if they have a green light.

Sihtric is open to the idea of bondage (and BDSM activities in general, apart from the things you already do) if you would be willing to try something and bring it up yourself. His priority is to make you feel safe and loved, so he would set clear boundaries for anything new you'd want to try and he also wants to know why you want to try certain things. Sihtric doesn't really have many limits when it comes to making you happy.

C=Cum - pretty self explanatory.

He'll cum preferably inside you. Sihtric thinks you're so breedable and he loves it. That doesn't mean he wants to get you pregnant as soon as possible though, but he just loves to see his cum run down your thighs when he helps you clean up.

D=Dom - Are they dominant, submissive, a switch?

Sihtric is a dom. A soft dom… a soft daddy dom to be more precise. He'll always keep you on your toes, because one moment he'll talk all sweetly to you and the next you'll be bent over his knee, made to count his spankings because you "broke" a rule or acted like a brat. And he'll talk sweetly to you during those punishments.

'Does that hurt, princess? Shh, I know, darling. But you forgot to keep counting, sweetheart, so now daddy has to start all over again.'

E=Edgeplay - Similar to ‘Kinks’ except it’s a lot riskier than usual kinks (knifeplay, breathplay, etc.).

Sihtric is not into edgeplay, but will consider it if you'd ask him. He'd do a ton of research beforehand to make sure he knows exactly how to perform it safely. And once again he will set clear boundaries, because he would never want to put his princess in danger or cause any serious discomfort.

F=Fantasy - A fantasy of theirs (ex: a teacher/student fantasy).

Sihtric would really like it if you'd put on some of those fluffy cat ears and a cute mini skirt for him, just because he thinks you'd look adorable wearing that while he gives you a good spanking, before teasing and edging you until you cry. And then he'll fuck you while you're still wearing those ears and that short skirt.

G=Got Caught - How they react when they get caught having sex.

He would lose his shit. For real. He'd go feral. Sihtric does not like to take risks like that. He is protective and a little possessive, although he tries to tone that down as much as he can. But he would never want anyone to see you in the act of having sex with him; because seeing you like that is only for his eyes and ears.

H=Hot Spots - A place that drives them crazy when stimulated (EX: neck).

He's a guy, of course he gets aroused when you touch or kiss his neck. He also loves it when you hold and kiss his hands, because his hands are so big compared to yours and he likes that. He likes that you're smaller to him, so he can easily pick you up and throw you in bed.

I=Intimacy - How romantic they are, or can be, before, during, or after sex.

Sihtric is quite romantic in general (loves to buy you flowers for example and take you on bike rides during a nice sunset), but during sex there's not much romance going on. Your dom/sub dynamic doesn't really call for that, but that doesn't mean it's not an intimate feeling, because it truly is romantic in a different way.

J=Journey - Their ideal way of leading up to sex.

Once your dom/sub relationship is fully established, Sihtric wants you to behave in order for you to get rewarded. He has an app which he shares with you where you can tick off things you've done during the day in order to show good behaviour, for example; drinking enough water and eating enough. He loves seeing you cross off the "tasks" you did, knowing you're taking care of yourself, and it makes his oil smudged overalls fit rather tightly around his crotch area when he knows you're being a good girl for him. However, Sihtric also gets aroused when you did not do what he asked you to take care of yourself, because he knows he'll get to punish his princess next time he sees you, and that arouses him too.

K=Kinks - I’ll list a few of their kinks, be they the normalized ones or kinkier kinks.

He loves spanking, edging and hair pulling. But the spanking and edging he only enjoys performing on you, he doesn't mind getting his hair pulled. Sihtric is a bit of a sadist too as he gets off by seeing the tears roll down your face when you're being punished for your "bad behaviour". He only enjoys it because he knows there is a safeword agreed upon and that you will use it when you are truly not having fun anymore. But he's very careful to not cross that line. He enjoys his daddy dom role with you, as it's more a lifestyle; a secret lifestyle between the two of you actually. He simply loves to praise you and to be your dominant, taking care of you and making you feel loved, but he also needs to feel that you are always there for him too when needed.

L=Location - Where they like to have sex at, do they like risky locations, etc.

Anywhere private is fine. He doesn't mind a more public place, like the repair shop for example, but he'll only have sex with you there when he's sure you won't get caught and the place is locked up.

M=Masturbation - How they are when they get themselves off, what they get themselves off to.

You and Sihtric eventually agreed to have a rule that you won't touch yourselves, and will only be pleased by each other. However, sometimes you break this rule and that means spankings (Sihtric always finds out because you can't lie… and because he may or may not walk in on you touching yourself from time to time. He'll watch you silently in the door, only to clear his throat and startle you when you just finished). Sihtric is good at keeping his hands off himself, because he knows it'll feel so much better when he's with you than doing it himself. The only exception is if you two are apart for a long time for whatever reason, but then you'll still facetime each other in the process.

N=NO - A few things that they will absolutely, under no circumstances, ever do.

He would never cross a boundary you have set and he would never ignore a safeword. Sihtric is all about wanting to make you feel safe.

O=On’s - Their top turn on’s that they have (things that’ll get them super horny super quickly).

Sihtric is easily turned on, it really doesn't take much, a simple touch will do it. A maybe more strange turn on is that he also loves it when you ask him for help, for example with simple tasks around the house, or when you ask him to order food for you. Knowing his girl needs his help and trusts him is a big turn on for him.

P=Position - Their favourite position to have sex in.

Sihtric doesn't really have a favourite position, he enjoys it in every possible way. He does prefer to be able to see your face when you're on the verge of tears though, because he likes to see you enjoy him so thoroughly.

Q=Quickie - Do they like it, do they prefer quickies over actual sex, etc.

Sihtric prefers actual sex over a quickie, but he'll never say no to a quickie in the morning just before he heads off to work. It'll surely put him in a good mood.

R=Rough - How rough they are, or get, when in bed.

Sihtric can be pretty rough, but all within the agreed upon boundaries though.

'Remember I love you, princess, because I'll fuck you like I don't love you.'

S=Stamina - How long they can go before they tap out.

Sihtric lasts surprisingly long for someone who mainly lifts weights in the gym and doesn't always do much cardio. He can go for several rounds, but he'll need a moment to recover obviously. If anyone taps out it's you, because you're overstimulated.

T=Toys - Do use toys, do they own them, what kind, etc.

Sihtric loves using toys on you, but not on himself. He loves to tease you with a vibrator until you can't take it anymore, only to then fuck you until you're screaming his name. And after that he'll wipe your tears and take you out for an ice cream.

U=Unfair - How much they tease you, how they tease you, etc.

He loves to tease you with risky texts during the day, but he also loves teasing you when you're with him just to see how worked up you get. It doesn't matter if it's in public, he'll tease you discretely until you're begging him to go home and take care of it. He'll whisper praises to you about how pretty you look and how he can't wait to take off your clothes later, while lightly trailing his fingers over your arms and back while you're out having a drink somewhere or are simply waiting in line at the grocery store.

V=Volume - How loud they get when having sex, things they might say, etc.

As a soft dom, Sihtric mainly wants to hear the pretty sounds you make for him, therefore he will try to bite back his own moans. Instead of shouting out how good you feel or how well you're taking him, he will whisper it all in your ear, knowing that it will only make you louder.

W=Wild Card - a random letter for the character of your choice.

Sihtric is totally into hentai.

X=X-Ray - How they look with their clothes off.

His body is scarred, but he looks perfect regardless, and luckily nothing down there got damaged in that crash ;)

Y=Yearning - How often they need to have sex.

Sihtric needs at least one quickie every day, he's horny like that. However, if you haven't behaved for him he is willing to torture himself for a day or two, just to punish you and make you beg for him eventually. But don't be fooled, because he is a needy dom too, and when he is desperate for you he'll let you know.

Z=ZZZ - How quickly they fall asleep after having sex.

He's absolutely awake after a quickie in the morning, but after longer sex in the evening he'll doze off rather fast. Only after making sure you are all cleaned up and feeling okay of course. He will never fall asleep without making sure you are feeling happy and safe.

taglist: @foxyanon @alexagirlie @sihtricsafin @neonhairspray @gemini-mama @lexwolfhale @sigtryggrswifey @skyofficialxx @djarinsgirl27 @m-a-s-h-k-a @verenahx @mrsarnasdelicious @diiickbrainn @little-diable @maii777 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @dixie-elocin @elle4404 @bubblyabs @ylvie50 @succnfuccubus @hb8301 @willowbrookesblog @apolloanddaphnis @jennifer0305 @carnationworld

If you want to be added/removed from the taglist, message me 🖤

#yeah was supposed to drop this tomorrow but eh it's done already so why not upload it before i go to bed #sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #the last kingdom #sihtric kjartansson #sihtric #tlk #the last kingdom fic #sihtric fic #modern!sihtric #sihtric au

65 notes · View notes

waratah-moon · 11 months

Note

oh my god this sounds soo good

"What were you thinking?" "To be honest, I wasn't" (Eddie does something stupid that puts both your names on every single tabloid in the city)”

“I may be an idiot, but I'm your idiot.” Pairing: Rockstar!Eddie x Famous!Reader WC: 1.8k Warnings: set in the 90s, alcohol consumption, mentions of Pam & Tommy, lil magazine cover edit at the bottom for vibe purposes only. masterlist / send me a message 💌 / other prompt drabbles

This was not Eddie’s most sober moment. In the process of waiting for their final category to be announced at the 37th Annual Grammy Awards ceremony, he’d downed three Jack and Cokes and taken one too many shots. In his defence, they’d performed their biggest single earlier in the ceremony and he was still chasing the adrenaline high that came from a lengthy round of applause. They’d also won Best Metal Performance; not that he cared about that too much.

Corroded Coffin was no stranger to Grammy awards. They’d won two Grammys the first year they were nominated. One for Best New Artist, which was a shock to everyone as it had never been awarded to a heavy metal band before, and one for Best Metal Performance for their debut album. That had been a years ago.

Eddie didn’t care about winning awards. To him the fun part was making the music and performing it. The only opinions that mattered to Eddie were those of the fans. And maybe some of his fellow musicians. But in the end the Grammys for the rock and metal categories were ultimately voted on by people who didn’t even understand the genres, so to Eddie their award didn’t matter. But now they were nominated for one of the big categories; Record of The Year. That meant a little more.

He felt you place your hand on his knee, it must have been bouncing because he suddenly felt it still.

“Nervous?” Your voice was quiet beneath the chatter of the theatre, but he heard you loud and clear.

“Never,” he responded, his signature lopsided grin making an appearance on his face.

“You’re fidgeting.”

“I’m always fidgeting.”

“More so than usual,” you took his hand in yours, twisting the silver signet ring you’d bought him for your one year anniversary. That seemed like a lifetime ago now. “I’m so proud of you.”

“What if we don’t win?”

“I’ll break up with you.” You saw confusion pass over his face and you laughed. “If you don’t win, you don’t win. Doesn’t change anything, Eds. You already have three Grammys, I’m not sure we even have the room for another one.”

“You’re right, the space on the mantel is saved for your Oscar.”

You rolled your eyes, but your chest warmed. You went to speak but Garret hushed you as “Record of The Year” flashed on the screen behind the stage.

Eddie couldn’t breath as he listened to the presenters read out the nominees, his heart felt like it was pounding out of his chest. He gripped your hand tightly, his toes fidgeting in his shoes. Suddenly people in the seats around him sprung up, hugging and cheering each other.

"You did it, baby," Eddie felt you kiss him quickly before Garret blindly led him through the audience.

The band made their way to the stage for the third time that night, energy buzzing around them. Garret thanked the presenters and pushed Eddie in front of the microphone for the acceptance speech. the applause died down as the crowd listened to Eddie speak.

“Uh, wow. To be honest I don’t think any of us know what to say right now. Bands like ours never win this award so none of us were expecting it. Thank you for thinking our music is good,” he went to step away from the mic when Jeff said something to him, pushing him back to centre stage. “Oh shit, yeah. We’d like to thank our manager John, Tim and Suzy at Columbia, and Joel who worked his ass off in the studio.” Eddie’s eyes were hazy but they still managed to find you in the crowd. “Finally I need to thank my favourite girl. My muse. My beautiful wife. This is your song, baby. None of it would be possible without you,” he raised the award in the air while his band members shook his shoulders and clapped him on the back.

The rest of the night was a blur. You ended up at some after party hosted by god knows who, but you spotted some familiar faces. Pamela Anderson was in the corner watching after her brand-new husband as he did the drunken rounds pestering other guests. Eddie had told you he’d never liked Tommy, but you both loved Pam. You left Eddie’s grasp as he chatted away to some producer and headed for the blonde.

“I hear congratulations are in order,” you smile.

“I could say the same for you,” Pam pulls you into a hug which you return with a squeeze. When you pull back she takes your left hand in hers and inspects it. “No ring?”

You frown, “huh?”

“You got married and you didn’t get a ring?”

Your eyes widened. What? “Married? Who said I got married?”

“Eddie… When he… wait,” she blinked, her eyes travelling from Eddie back to you. “He called you his wife in his speech, everyone’s talking about it. Honestly I’m just upset I wasn’t invited.”

You flashed back to the ceremony, trying to remember what Eddie had said but blanking on everything past him calling you his “favourite girl.”

“We didn’t get married. We’re not even engaged,” you tell her. Your eyes wandered over to Eddie who had his arm over Garret’s shoulder and was laughing at something Jeff was saying. You’d been together for three years now with them being the happiest of your life. You had no doubt that he was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. The two of you had talked about your future together before, both of you certain that you had one together, but he hadn’t popped the question. Yet. “Everyone’s talking about it?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry, I’m sure everyone will forget about it by tomorrow. Come on, let’s get some drinks, I have to tell you about my wedding.”

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

You woke up the next day with a headache and an answering machine full of messages.

“Bitch you got married?!”

“Sweetie, I’ve spoken with a lawyer and we can get this annulled, please call me back when you get this message.”

“Darling, we need to talk about media strategy, the tabloids are having a field day with the shotgun wedding headline. I can get you on the Tonight Show tomorrow.”

It was past noon when Eddie sleepily entered the kitchen, oblivious to your tense state as you sat at the kitchen counter, hunched over a magazine, a half eaten muffin on the plate beside you.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Did you make muffins?” His voice was muffled as his face was pressed into the crook of your neck.

“Nope. Carla dropped them off. Along with this,” you held up the cover of the magazine.

A red carpet picture of you and Eddie was splashed across the cover alongside the title: AMERICA’S SWEETHEART AND ROCK AND ROLL BAD BOY GET HITCHED.

He took the magazine from your hand, holding it closer to his face, “rock and roll? Corroded Coffin is heavy metal.”

You groaned, “that’s what you’ve taken from this? Eddie, everyone thinks we got married.”

He hummed thoughtfully, dropping the tabloid back on the counter. He broke off a piece of your muffin and tossed it in his mouth. “Not that I mind, but why do they think that?”

You spun the barstool around to face him, his hands finding purchase on your hips. “You don’t remember what you said last night, do you?”

Eddie tilted his head to the side, thinking. You could see the dark circles under his eyes, his hair mused from sleep. “No. What did I say?”

“When you won the grammy, after you thanked everyone, you thanked me.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, his thumbs stroking the skin of your hips.

“You called me your wife.”

He squinted, trying to force his words to appear in his mind but failing. “Oh.”

“What were you thinking?”

“To be honest, I wasn’t. I was drunk, baby. It must have just slipped out.”

You covered his hands on your hips with yours, eyes wide as you watched his expression. “How does that just slip out, Eds?” He was chewing his lip now, trying to think of a way to defuse the situation. “Do you think of me as your wife?”

“Want me to be honest?”

“‘Course.”

“I love you. Our entire lives are intertwined. In all the important ways, you’re already my wife.”

Butterflies erupted in your stomach and suddenly your face felt hot. “But you haven’t asked me.”

“Do you wanna get married?” Yes, yes, yes.

“You have to ask me properly.”

He huffed, dropping his hands from your hips and as he kissed your forehead. “Wait here.”

As Eddie disappeared from the kitchen you allowed yourself a moment to silently scream, fanning your cheeks. You were overwhelmed; too many thoughts raced through your mind as you tried to figure out what on earth was happening. It didn’t help that there was certainly alcohol still buzzing through your system. You swallowed the rest of the coffee that was sitting on the bench and pinched your wrist in an attempt to wake yourself up. Your mind still felt cloudy.

When Eddie finally returned, your eyes fell to his hands; he was fiddling with something small and velvet. “I was planning on doing this somewhere romantic. Maybe the lookout on Mullholand, but that doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is you and me.” He knelt down on one knee, opening the small box in his hand to flash a sparkling ring. “Baby, you’re the only person I want to go to sleep with, wake up with, spend my days with. You’re my favourite person. You’re my heart, my soul, my everything. You’re it for me, sweetheart.”

“Eds,” you felt your eyes getting wet as you watched the man you loved on his knees before you.

“Will you marry me?”

You were nodding before you got the words out, “yes, of course I will.” Your hands went to his cheeks and you leant down to kiss his lips.

“Here, put this on before I drop it,” he took your left hand from his cheek, slipping the ring on your finger. You held your hand out, watching as the light bounced off the stone, making it sparkle. It was huge.

“Jesus christ, this weighs a ton.”

“Metal makes money, baby. Do you like it?”

“I love it. It’s perfect. How long have you been hiding this?”

He pondered the question, “I bought it last year.”

“Last year? We could have been engaged since last year? You’re an idiot, Eddie Munson.”

“But now I’m your idiot.”

“You’ve always been my idiot.”

4 months later...

note: Yes, that's JLo's 2000s Ben Afleck ring bc I think it's the height of celebrity extravagant rings lol not my style but sooooo 90s/00s.

taglist: @geekyfifi @livsters @bailey1212@babyfrosty@becca-alexa @munsonology @celestialuna13 @69your-best-night-mare69 @unknowniteminthebaggingarea @micheledawn1975 @neewtmas @silky-luxe @lokis-little-fawn @starrthemushroom @eddies-puppet

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie #famous!reader #maggie writes #stanger things

209 notes · View notes

sai-lec · 10 days

Text

The Internet Tifosi

an informal reflection of online fan spaces by me, a recent member of the tifosi.

I love being part of the tifosi. I love the colour red. I love seeing the passion of the tifosi at races. I love Charles. I love Carlos. I love watching races and highlights from old team lineups I love the greats like Schumacher and Lauda and Prost I love Ferrari.

My path in f1 didnt start with Ferrari, it started with McLaren- my dad is a huge McLaren fan, he introduced me to Lando (and Carlos but primarily Lando) in lockdown and sure it didnt click with me right away; I watched some races with him, he showed me the highlights from the races I didnt watch with him (including several videos of Grosjean's infamous crash) and despite the fact that I wasn't heavily invested it gave us something to bond over. That September when I left home for university it gave us a reason to call each other. When I developed a genuine interest (after I decided I wasn't coming back home after I graduate university) my dad wasn't bothered by the fact that I had shown up at Christmas with a Ferrari hat on, in fact he took it off my head and tried it on himself; "do I look good as a Sainz fan?". From my dad introducing me to Lando, Carlos was the natural next step in immersing myself into the fan community. From Carlos, we found Charles and the Tifosi. I don't have many (or any) friends in real life with the same level of interest in Formula 1 that I have developed, naturally I found myself creating this blog hoping to find a community within online spaces that wasn't available to me in the digital world.

My experience within the tifosi has been... unique, to say the least. I have been engaged in online fan spaces since I was around 14- I made my Tumblr account in 2016 to talk about supernatural, before moving on to buzzed unsolved, and marvel and so on as my interests developed and changed. Within each of these communities I have found a group of people that I felt comfortable around enough to call them genuine friends. some of whom I still keep in contact with despite the fact that our interests have changed. that hasn't quite happened to the same extent with the internet's Tifosi; and there is a multitude of reasons why.

The 'Versus' Predicament

To be rather blunt for a moment- I have never been part of a community that has been filled with so much vitriol for other members, and I was part of the Marvel fandom when Civil War was released (team cap). In fact, it seem that the tifosi are constantly engaged in a Civil War of their own- devoted fans of Charles as the self-labelled Lecfosi and Team55 practically always appear to be at odds with each other. And publicly so.

It is natural for people to have a favourite driver- we've just discussed how ive come to find myself as a devotee to Team55. But as with other areas, fan spaces have seen negative impact in communication due to internet dependancy in recent years.

From my perspective, the issue appears to be a mixture of cancel culture and virtue signalling. Now cancel culture is in itself a manifestation of virtue signalling in which creators or whomever else face mass criticism and attempted deplatforming as the internet becomes aware of potentially problematic past or present behaviour; however given its internet context and usage I've elected to view it as a separate entity.

Internet fan spaces have regressed to a state of defensiveness- in order to promote and validate your approval of one subject you must justify why in comparison to another. This is where the effects of cancel culture come into play. Cancel culture reached its peak performativity during quarantine as the internet and social media became the primary method of protesting and spreading awareness of activism whilst maintaining social distancing and quarantining requirements. As morality became monitored and policed by a younger and younger average user base, it is natural that there was a bastardisation of the phenomenon resultant in the mass cancelling and calling out of any person who spoke or acted in a manner that wasn't deemed correct; not necessarily related to politics or activism at this point, I myself received an influx of mass hatred and cancellations to the point where I was borderline shunned by an entire gaming community for making a joke about everyone hating one of the event mini games ('whats everyones favourite game and why is it not buildmart').

This same mindset is so visibly present within the Tifosi today- both extremes find themselves comparing one driver to the other in order to justify their favour. For example, tensions have been high with Lecfosi and Team55 almost in a panicked state looking to justify why they chose to support their favourite driver with 'Carlos is gifted every achievement Charles would have beaten him if he wasn't held back ' and 'Ferrari fired the wrong driver' filling the comments of Ferrari's Instagram and Twitter posts. This has prompted fans to flock to defend their preferred driver, often in ways which contribute to the animosity. Drivers face this pseudo-cancellation as a result with twitter bios seeing additions of 'Carlos fans din' 'if you like CL16 unfollow me' after every race. Criticisms of the drivers themselves increase, they are placed under heavier scrutiny as the violence between fans increases leading to a never-ending circle of driver-to-fan hatred. it is seen as almost a moral failure within fan spaces to support the wrong driver.

I, personally, have witnessed arguments between fans in comment sections on tiktok- the most memorable being a 'share your favourite driver and why' tiktok in which a Carlos fan received comments of 'Well you know Charles is actually better because x y z'. (I'd like to point out this is not an antagonisation of Charles fans, but this is what actually happened nor am I excusing Team55 from the ability to make similar comment). The notable point here is that Charles was never mentioned, yet the mere fact of someone else preferring the wrong driver in this commenter's eyes lead to them purposefully targeting another Ferrai fan to chastise them on their decision effectively boiling the interaction down to 'you're not allowed to support this driver because I don't like him'.

This is where virtue signalling comes into play. For those unaware, virtue signalling is the public expression of opinion with the intent of alignment with a moral correctness. The internet especially in fanbases weaponises that frequently through the examples of 'dni of you support x' as discussed prior. The followup to that mindset is the feeling of requirement to discuss. For example, when a driver races poorly or is subjected to penalty, fan spaces will see an influx of posts demanding fans to defend their driver (How can you support him when he drives like that), mass criticising the driver (he doesn't deserve his seat why isn't he fired), or public statement of disapproval because of the social requirement to misalign yourself with the incorrect actions of another person without genuine belief behind the statement as oftentimes excuses will be made for their preferred person in a similar situation. At times it appears that the primary interaction of some people within the Tifosi is to engage in critical commentary on their disliked drivers.

Criticism? Or extreme negativity?

With call out and cancel culture leaving the political sphere it has severely impacted the positivity of fanbases as criticism becomes a primary, almost necessary, aspect of fan culture. Of course we talk about critical consumption in which you are able to analyse and evaluate the content which we consume and become aware of its biases and flaws, however this has snowballed to become criticise everything you consume. Thus, the animosity of the fan spaces rises once more.

Of course every driver is bound to face warranted criticism- the majority of the grid are socially unaware rich white men, they are destined to say or do something worth criticising. They are bound to say bitchy things and act in ways that you don't agree with because that is just the nature of humanity, everyone does these things. But that does not mean every single one of their actions are worth dissecting under the microscope. And the prevalent attitude of analysing drivers mannerisms, behaviours emotions and heat-of-the-moment radios and comments doesn't display the analytical eye a lot of people think it does.

A lot of attitudes in the 2024 spaces that I have personally seen have centred a Carlos negativity- there have been dire criticisms of the journalistic bias towards him across the first 3 races of the year. Of course, if you don't like him then you're bound to be tired of hearing about him. But what I found interesting was the theories being circulated that he was paying his way into the media or that there was a behind-the-scenes scheme to keep media interest on him. Now, a lot of people perceived this to be a theory based on the culture surrounding Sainz's family wealth and his father's influence when in reality it was likely to be because of the increased interest around his circumstances going into the season- no seat for 2025, rumoured negotiations with several teams, surgery and first non Red Bull win of the season. to analyse this situation critically is not to say 'well there must be a secret reason and I will investigate' but to recognise that journalism is reliant on attention grabbing headlines- a man with no job and no appendix winning a race while still in the post-surgery recovery period is exactly the kind of narrative that will garner clicks. It would have been the same had it have been any other driver in that specific set of circumstances. There is a difference between critical thinking and assumptive analyses and oftentimes they can become conflated in the desire to prove a point.

This is the issue- a lot of people engage analytically with media in order to suggest a particular narrative. Every person is subject to bias, and when that bias is unchecked it can lead to a lot of analysis that are reliant on theory, speculation and assumption in order to maintain the subconscious perspective of the writer. This is why we see a lot of people use demeaning nicknames towards Charles on twitter an simultaneously view Carlos as undeserving in instagram comments- the integral points of their perspective on the driver rest on the moments which will develop their narrative view of the driver as the lesser. Critical engagement cannot rest solely on one the positive or the negative, otherwise you failing to engage critically by cherry picking a perspective in order to maintain a narrative. That is tabloid journalism, or gossip, at best.

I Am In Misery

It is also just not healthy for you as a fan to consistently engage in negative commentary and discourse. I mean that seriously this is a PSA if your fan engagement sees your negative criticism and commentary of your disliked driver outweigh the time you spend enjoying your interest then you need to take a step back and reassess how you want to participate because that is not sustainable for your mental wellbeing.

This is not to say that you must never hate, you must never criticise or say anything bad about someone we all do it- it's natural. But you have to ask yourself if you truly enjoy using another driver to uplift your favourite. Aren't his accomplishments enough to validate him alone?

Ive noticed a complete lack of will to celebrate- in my inbox right now are maybe around 15 asks all talking about how I shouldn't be happy with this weekends performance or else I dont understand F1. I argue the inverse,

I understand F1. I understand that this weekend was not the best performance Ferrari had to offer. I understand the impact of the team racing each other and Carlos' aggression during the sprint. And I have mentioned as much. However, I choose to focus on the positive aspects of the weekend. The tyre management from both drivers was impeccable to gain 2 positions each and maintain them finishing on tyres that were 40 laps old. They made an excellent recovery from the mishaps in qualifying that ultimately earned the team and themselves more points. We maintain 2nd in the constructors championship and 3rd and 4th in the drivers. There are issues that need to be discussed and resolved but ultimately this is not the worlds worst performance.

F1 is entertainment. I want to win, I want to succeed but I also want to be entertained. My mental health has seen a series uptick since I decided to directly seek entertainment. Sure, the drivers shouldn't have been racing the way they were, it had the potential to put both cars in a detrimental position, but it sure does make things more interesting!!! There's almost a sense of parasocialism within the community- a lot of people are hesitant to look for relief beyond the emotions of their favourite driver, and subsequently view every race as a failure in some aspect (just outside of the podium, on the podium but not p1, could've done better if it wasn't for xyz) and that negatively affects their experience as a fan and for other fans who don't share that perspective. It's almost like people have forgotten to enjoy the race, they're so preoccupied with looking for something to criticise.

Now this isn't to say you're not allowed to enjoy critical assessments of the success of races. But thats not what the majority of us are posting (it might be what some of you think you're posting, but you're not). I love watching video essays on races that are done properly with acknowledgement and awareness of bias. I don't love reading posts along the lines of 'why this race actually sucked' (not a real example) because it's not built from an analytical or critical perspective, just a discussion of the race and outcome through a lens of destructive pessimism.

End

This behaviour isn't specific to the Tifosi, it's an internet wide phenomenon. But I've chosen to directly comment on it here because as I said, I've never sen a community with so much hatred for itself. As of 2024, we are all on the same team right now. We have the right to hold our own opinions of the drivers and express those. We do not have the right to argue on the validity of other fans preferences, we do not have the right to directly enter fan spaces (ie the main tags) and spread destructive negativity about a driver nor do we have the right to harass blogs for whom they chose to support.

The inherent negativity is so calamitous to the community. It perpetuates the infighting, it furthers the negative narratives we have constructed of drivers, it only contributes to divide the community as both sides earn reputations of being toxic towards each other. And to an extent, yes . It is true, and that is disappointing. You have the right to choose your favourite driver. However, Charles and Carlos are both talented drivers- there is no need to drag one down to uplift the other. It is instigating behaviour and I'm sure a lot of people comment in that manner purposefully.

Be aware of your parasocial connection to a driver. if you find yourself criticising a driver for an action that you would not criticise your favourite for executing ask yourself why you view the action as negative circumstantially. If you are only able to assess races based on what could have happened, what better could have happened then ask yourself if you find this enriching; do you leave race weekends feeling good and excited for the next race or soured because things might have been better under different circumstances. Don't ignore the problems, acknowledge them and say but what are the positives as opposed to letting the failures undermine the successes.

just have a bit of fucking fun once in a while PLEASE .

as an endnote: I do recognise that the majority of insights and examples I have given in this reflection have been at the expense of team 55, again I would like to reiterate that as someone who primarily finds themself in 55 spaces I a naturally experience a greater exposure to negativity towards that driver as it usually tends to be maintagged or sent directly to myself or other 55 centric blogs. Just as the CL16 community is more likely to be exposed to and remember hatred towards Charles. In no way am I insinuating that 55 fans are incapable of or have not acted in the the same nature, to Charles' detriment. The toxicity remains prevalent on both extremes of the community.

this is a mass response to the people in my inbox thank you for your patience I didnt want to answer like 15 different asks about everything in slightly different ways

#not proofread bc didn’t want to #formula 1 #carlos sainz #charles leclerc #f1 #ferrari

27 notes · View notes

fluffyprettykitty · 1 year

Note

I looove your writing and I would like to make a request with tony stark, tony and reader as friends with benefits and they have a little drunk unprotected sex (after a party or a date) and she end up pregnant, she's all nervous about telling him, but when she tells him he's so happy to become a daddy and they officially become a couple? Thank you 😘 maybe a epilogue with them and the baby

Florescence

Pairing: Tony Stark x female reader (no other specifications!)

Word Count: 2000 words

Outline: Having long been in a fwb situation with the famous Tony Stark, you never thought that this would be the next step.

Author's Note: So this is set in my favourite Tony era, post im2, pre-avengers, no aliens to make my man sad, okay!!! Nonnie thank you for this lovely request, sorry it took a while, thanks also to anyone else who helped with their asks and thots, hope you will enjoy! Kept the baby nameless and gender neutral in the end so choose your own fantasy <3

Warnings: alcohol consumption, previous drugs mention, pregnancy, abortion talk, giving birth, breeding kink, hair pulling, oral fixation, daddy kink, public sex, bulge kink, multiple positions, spit play, oral sex (both), creampie, it gets messy and nasty basically.

P.S: dividers by @firefly-graphics // banners by @maysdigitalarts

Main Masterlist ・❥・Tony Stark Masterlist

NSFW UNDERNEATH THE CUT. MINORS DNI.

“You like it when I fuck you like that, huh?”

Tony grunts as his cock are full deep down your throat, a bit of mascara running down your cheek.

“What, mouthful? Mummy didn’t tell you it’s good manners to answer when someone asks you something?” He seems unfazed as he chuckles before he releases your head from his cock and you cough while spit and cum fall down your chin. Messy exactly as he likes it.

“Yeah, I do, daddy.” You smirk as you use your fingers to lick some of the excesses.

“Get up by the sink, grip tight then baby, daddy’s gonna fill that pussy.”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl.”

Getting up fast you position yourself on the sink, your skirt still pulled up and your shirt on the floor, from ten minutes ago when Tony was eating you out pressed against the wall so you could look at yourself in the mirror.

The music from outside was loud, followed by cheers, Tony’s downtown club had a famous rapper performing tonight so of course, you had to come.

And coming you were indeed.

Tony pushes his spent cock inside your slickness, your hands automatically wrapping around his neck. You had both been at it, friends since the first time you met at an expo a couple of years ago, and fuck buddies since that one time you both got drunk on that cruise ship. And you had to admit, Tony’s cock was your absolute favorite.

“Fuck me, please!” You plead, your fingertips creeping on his luscious hair while his hands grip your waist, descending on your ass, and his mouth stays on your neck, biting and kissing.

Tony was very much well into marking you whenever he got to spend time with you, after starting his life as iron man three years ago, that wasn’t as often as any of you would like.

He snaps his hips forward, gripping your body tight as he freely starts moving you against his cock, back and forth, switching it to fast slapping skin on the skin when he bit down your neck.

You scream to your heart’s desire, nobody could truly hear you and you wouldn’t even mind if someone could. The people closest to Tony already knew about your beneficial friendship so they knew where you had disappeared. No one would come looking for you two.

The dark-haired man didn’t have to do much besides spanking your ass during the concert and then grabbing your hand and leading you to the VIP bathroom.

“You look so good with my cock inside you baby.”

He muses when he pulls his teeth from your neck staring down between your two bodies. He stops his movements taking a moment to admire you like this. On his favorite position, with his cock inside you. If he could he’d never get out.

Or maybe only long enough so he could fuck your mouth.

He slowly brings a hand forward, pressing it on your stomach and pushing your body backward.

“Feel me, baby?”

“Yeah!” You breathe, as he presses his fingers on your stomach, his cock visible there.

“Impressive how well you can take it.”

“I can take anything daddy, please.”

“Please, what?” He asks amused.

“Fuck me deep, breed my pretty pussy, please!”

“Oh, but now I am admiring this work of art.”

“It’s gonna look much better when you will be fucking it right back in.”

He doesn’t even respond when your words make him pistol his hips, setting a fast and brutal place, letting you try and grab his hair for support. He is going fast and desperate at it, the sounds intensifying while you are pulling his hair tightly.

“Fuck.” He growls, evidently, your new way of positioning yourself has him feral, something evidently he hadn’t yet learned, and he is fucking you like a sex toy.

When Tony spills inside you, he only stops for a moment before going right back to it, fulfilling your previous request. Your legs could barely close from the intensity of the fucking and your multiple orgasms, so Tony instructs you through the back window, calling for a suit of his to safely fly you off to his tower.

Tony always got a little more feral on nights like this, drunk and a little high. By the time he got tired of fucking you, it was deep midnight. He had you on the bed, in the shower when you tried to wash away your sins, in the balcony when he headed out for a smoke, completely insatiable and utterly horny.

One could say that he could never ever have enough.

Not of you anyway. Or maybe he knew.

Several hours later, when you wake up, he’s back in his office having a meeting, so you leave him a note, thanking him before Happy is driving you safely back to your apartment. You shoot him a text as well with a grinning emoji and he replies back with a suggestive one. That’s how it always was, anyway. You’d see him soon enough.

Yet four weeks later, you are sitting in the middle of your bathroom holding a pregnancy test between your fingers as the lines begin to appear. You shut your eyes close. That’s not how things are supposed to happen.

Tony and you hadn’t met up again yet, he was busy on an iron man adventure away from the country and you were focused on a big project at work.

For the next two weeks, you try to reason with yourself. Do you want this baby? Do you want to tell Tony? Could you keep it and then pretend to him it wasn’t hit? He will come to look for you when time allows him to. Would he even like it? Does he even wants kids?

Career-wise, you could raise it all by yourself, and if you’ve always wanted children, your mother would be more than happy to help you. So that’s the first person you call and she also encourages you to talk to him and so does your best friend and her best friend. It was only one phone call. Hell, you could even text him. But you knew it had to be in person.

Eventually, you head to a doctor, confirming your pregnancy and determining the exact date and it’s very obvious it’s his. You sit in the doctor’s office, legs crossed, impatient, with the weight of the world on your shoulders as the tv on mute is playing an interview of Tony smiling and gesturing as always does so and in your heart, you know. That man had to know. You couldn’t bare the burden on your own anymore.

So you take your phone out of your purse and call his number and hear his voice asking for a voicemail. In one breath you leave him a message telling him you need to talk cause it’s important.

Tony on his end believes you have met a man, and he tries to surpass his jealousy when he shows up at your door holding a bouquet of flowers. Now that was unusual.

You greet him warmly, invite him and offer him a drink before sitting on the couch with him. You are rubbing your hands on your body trying to gain more confidence until he stops you and gently holds your hand.

“Just tell me. Blurt it all out in one go. Whatever it is.”

It always surprised you how serious he could be at a critical moment. The soft smile on his face was to give you strength even if his heart was beating faster.

“Tony.” You pause look him in the eyes and then look down. You wouldn’t wanna see him disappointed so you will be speaking to the floor.

“Tell me, I’m all ears.”

“I’m pregnant. I wanna keep it.” You whisper, staring at the floor, your fingers nervously trembling against his hand.

There is silence for a bit, and the only thing you can hear is your heartbeat until you turn your head a little to look at him. He is grinning, looking down with a tear clearly hanging off his beard. He is slowly moving his shoulders, trying to come up with something to say.

You have to say something, and fill the room with sound.

“If you don’t want..”

“Stop.” He clears his throat and looks at you squeezing your hands with one hand and bringing the other to your face. “I want you. I want this. I want your baby. Our baby.”

“You should take all the time in the world to think about it.”

“I am thinking about it. This is everything I ever wanted.”

“Tony…” You try to form another sentence, trying to alleviate him of this burden but he only wraps his arms around you as you clearly start sobbing.

“You make me the happiest man in the world. Honestly and sincerely. I always dreamt of a family, I never thought I could get it, not with the drugs, the parties, and anything else.” His hands are caressing your back as you are still unable to grasp your emotions.

“I never thought you could want me like that.” He continues, smiling to himself. “Like a baby daddy.” He chuckles. “Though I gotta say I’m a traditional man and you know the inheritance and everything.” Now you are laughing too between sobs burning your face inside his chest and this newfound happiness.

Later you both call your parents together, and Tony asks for your hand over the phone. Your mom insists on a family dinner. He agrees. He brings a diamond ring, with your initials on it. He knows you’d never take his last name, your mom is happy, and so are you.

You agree on civil marriage, with Happy, Rhodey, and your best friends in attendance, and away from the spotlight. You just give a small announcement to the public along with a picture from your wedding day. All smiles, you are both wearing white.

The next several months of your pregnancy are straight out of a movie. You look for a penthouse together, Tony simply refuses not to be on the top floor. He agrees on you paying for the groceries and anything else you might like. You make plans to adopt a pet soon. He brings you flowers every day. Sometimes when he needs to stay away for iron man reasons, he sends Happy to keep you company. You want every show under the sun together. Tony still shows up with flowers.

When the day comes, you are well into your tenth month begging the doctor to take the baby out of you and you agree on induction. Doesn’t take long for the baby like this, and even though is painful and gut-wrenching Tony stays by your side, holding your hand no matter how much you are threatening that you are never doing this again.

Too bad he had already plans for five more. But you didn’t know that back then.

When the baby is pushed, he is right there grinning and exclaiming “I see a head! I see a head!” followed by a “they look just like you, baby!”. The nurse allows him to cut the cord and then carefully, they wrap the baby up to bring them to you. You never knew you could feel such happiness and such exhaustion in one moment.

He wraps a hand around your back and kisses the top of your head, you are looking at your baby, you know they look just like him. “They look just like you.” He smiles and rubs his chin on your head. Looks like you found something to disagree on.

When you need to leave the hospital, he has a helicopter booked for you. You tell him ‘there’s no fucking way” and he brings over Happy with a car. You leave the hospital hand in hand, reporters are waiting outside, and you both smile and go on your merry way.

And your happiness can only grow stronger.

for updates please follow @fluffyprettykittylibrary and turn on post notifications!

#selenewrites #tony stark #tony stark x reader #tony stark smut #tony stark oneshot #tony stark x fem!reader #tony stark x you #tony stark x y/n #dad!tony stark #iron man #iron man x reader #iron man smut #iron man x you #iron man x y/n #iron man fanfiction #tony stark mcu #tony stark fic #tony stark fanfiction

304 notes · View notes

pierregas1yx · 2 years

Note

Heyyyy!!!! Can you please write an imagine about Lewis Hamilton? The trope is she falls first but he falls harder. Idk, maybe she works at Mercedes kind of thing. Thanks :)))

Expect The Unexpected

Prompt: You fell first but Lewis fell harder.

Word Count: 1.8k

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Female!Reader

Warnings: unedited, drug metaphors

Category: fluff

Gif: not mind, credits to the original owners.

Working at Mercedes had been the dream for as long as you could remember. Always being a fan of motorsport, you would watch the cars compete around the tracks across the world and the very second that you had any concept of what working and having a job were, you decided that Formula 1 was the place for you.

But chasing down a dream was never as easy as the movies made it out to be. Several years being cooped up in a boxy flat, pouring your heart and soul into your university work and working a part time job just to make ends meet were some of the sacrifices that you had to make to get to where you are now.

Working at Mercedes had always been the dream and it was a dream that you had managed to achieve through hard work.

So there you were, standing in the middle of the garage as pit crew, photographers and engineers danced around you. They were in a mad rush to get everything sorted and ready for the upcoming race.

You were totally focused on the day ahead. The Monza GP had always been one of your favourites. There was just something so magical about it. With Monza, always expect the unexpected.

You scanned the garage one final time, looking for the man that you would be assisting throughout the race and the moment that he walked in, your breathing hitched in your throat. There he was, dressed in his black race suit which only made him look more appealing and more dangerous than usual. His braided hair was tied back in a ponytail and as he smiled at his team, you admired the small gap in his teeth, the one that made you think he was cute instead of hot whenever you saw it.

"Y/N, you ready for today?" Lewis asked, catching you by surprise. Too entranced in his beauty, you hadn't realised that he was now standing in front of you. Snapping you out of your daydream, you forced a bright smile on your face and nodded your head with enthusiasm.

"As ready as ever, Sir." You gave him a salute and he chuckled at your stupidity. He found it endearing how you still insisted on calling him by his official title every so often. Lewis would rather you didn't but it became more of a joke between the two of you and so you never stopped.

Lewis' hand gripped yours and placed it back down by your side gently. Electricity flew up your arms as he initiated contact and when your head snapped up to look at him, his eyes were wide. Lewis was never one to show any shock or fear but as you looked into his eyes, you found both were present.

The races came and went as they usually did with one exception: you and Lewis had started to spend more time together. At first, it started out as official meetings that were genuinely work related. Lewis had questions regarding the tyre performance and a few car performance issues. Things were ironed out very quickly and before you knew it, Lewis had invited you out for lunch. You knew that you shouldn't have agreed. It was a dangerous game that you were playing but he was so enticing.

Lewis Hamilton was like a drug to you. Everything about him was addicting, from the scent of his aftershave to the way that he looked at you with that twinkle in his eyes.

The thing about working at Mercedes was that it was just one big family and so when Toto and Susie announced that they would be hosting an end of season party to celebrate everyone's hard work, you were already being pestered about attending.

"You are going, right?" Lewis questioned as the pair of you fell into stride with each other, walking around the paddock.

"I'm not sure. I told my parents that I would help them with Christmas decorations and I haven't seen them in months." You sighed, confessing your dilemma to the man that you had worked with for years.

"Oh come on, Y/N. The party won't be fun without you." He pouted at you, giving you his best puppy dog eyes and you could feel your cheeks burning at the sight.

You weren't stupid. Your attendance would not impact Lewis having fun but you let yourself believe it anyway and so, you agreed.

"I'll make sure you have the best time. I promise!" Lewis exclaimed as though he was an excited, young kid and without even thinking about it, he leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to your cheek.

As always, Toto and Susie outdid themselves with the party and as promised, Lewis made sure that you had the best possible time.

Not once did Lewis leave your side all evening. He spent his time dancing with you, giving you enough alcohol to make you tipsy but not enough to get you drunk and his arm was always wrapped around your waist. Not a single man dared to approach you whilst you were in the presence of Lewis although rest be assured, plenty of men wanted to.

"I'm just going to the bathroom. I'll be right back." You informed him, your lips brushing against his ear to be heard over the loud music. He got shivers from the contact, the blood rushing down below and making his trousers that bit more uncomfortable.

What you didn't notice as you walked away with your back to him, was how his eyes raked up and down your body, taking in how gorgeous you looked in that slinky black dress. It accentuated every inch of your body perfectly and my god did Lewis want to devour you there and then but he had better control than that. You deserved better than a quickie in the family bathroom of your employer. He would make sure to give you better than that.

"You like her." Susie Wolff observed from beside the golden boy of Mercedes. Being snapped out of his thoughts that were consumed by you, he turned to look at Susie, not quite believing how easily she could read him.

"Nah, she's my engineer and a friend-" Lewis started but he wasn't fooling Susie. She shut him up before he had a chance to finish the lie he was telling himself.

"Yeah, okay, Lewis. No one is buying that. You treat her differently to Angela and in a way that screams that you're in love with her. You just don't realise it yet." Susie finished and walked back into the arms of her loving husband.

Lewis contemplated her words whilst he awaited your return. You were all he seemed to think about these days and even now, he missed your presence. It was temporary but he missed the warmth of your body pressed up against his. He missed the sweetness of your perfume filling his nostrils every time he breathed in. Most of all, he missed the way that your eyes would light up whenever you engaged in a conversation concerning something that you loved.

"You alright?" You asked him upon your return from the bathroom. Instinctively, his arm snaked around your waist and you didn't stop him. It felt so natural that you almost didn't give it a second thought.

"Everything's perfect." Lewis smiled down at you before pressing a kiss to your temple, savouring the moment.

Maybe Susie was right.

A knock at the door echoed throughout the hallway of your parents house. Confused as to who could be at the door so late on Christmas Eve, you decided to go and investigate. You pushed back the fuzzy blanket that was keeping you warm and made your way to the front door. It opened with a loud creak and you were shocked to see none other than Lewis Hamilton standing there. His hair was littered with white snowflakes and his parka jacket wasn't doing a great job of keeping him dry.

"Lewis, what are you doing here? It's Christmas Eve." You pointed out, stepping out of the house and into the snow with just your pyjamas, a cardigan and a pair of slippers to protect you from the elements.

"Y/N, I've known you for years and I've been lucky enough to have you by my side through it all. I've won world championships with you and this year, when I wasn't at my best, you stuck by me." Lewis started and you honestly had no idea where this was going. You were about to point out that you were only doing your job when he stopped you.

"Please don't say that it's your job because it's so much more than that," he took a step towards you and suddenly, you couldn't remember how to breathe with him so close to you.

"You kept me grounded, you lifted me up when I needed it but you've always checked on me as a person, not as a driver." He took yet another step closer and you found yourself chest to chest with him. His eyes gazed into yours and you searched them, looking for anything that might indicate what was going on.

"Y/N, you are so much more than my race engineer. It's taken me several years to realise it but I love you." He whispered the last three words and some part of you thought that you had been making it up.

Never in a million years did you think that Lewis Hamilton would feel that way about you. It had always just been friendly banter on his side and so, although you had fallen for him years ago, you didn't press the issue further. Not when he was the person keeping you in a job.

When you didn't say anything, Lewis let out a heavy sigh and took a step back. He went to turn away, immediately regretting his long car journey to confess his feelings to you but you stopped him. You grabbed his hand and with your other arm, placed it around his neck and pulled him closer to you. His face was millimetres away from yours, his hot breath fanning against your face. Deciding that you both needed to make up for lost time, you reached up and pressed a soft kiss on his lips.

What started out as a soft kiss where you both expressed your love and desire for each other, quickly turned into something more. The lust overpowered the desire and the heat was enough to melt the snow that surrounded you.

"I love you, too." You whispered against his lips to which he couldn't hold back the wide grin from stretching across his features.

Lewis dug around in his coat pockets until he pulled out a piece of mistletoe and held it above your heads.

"Merry Christmas, my love." He winked at you and your head tipped back as you laughed, your hands on his chest.

"Merry Christmas, Lewis." You smiled before leaning up once again to leave a peck on his lips.

You might have fallen first but Lewis definitely fell harder.

a/n: hope you enjoyed my first imagine! I loved the prompt so thank you very much, anon and I adore Lewis so all in all, a good first imagine topic :) if you want to be in my tag list, just comment down below. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

#lewis hamilton #formula 1 #f1 x you #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #imagines #imagine #mercedes #fanfic

431 notes · View notes

secretswiftymarvelfan · 1 year

Text

Greatest Regret - Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: It’s been a year since you walked out on Chris, but thanks to awards season you’re about to be reunited

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Light Angst! Fluff!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist

Award season was never something that bothered Chris, not usually. It was a time when the art form he appreciated the most was recognised. He was able to see friends he hadn’t seen for a while. And most importantly he didn’t have to do too much press. He just had to turn up, quickly walk the red carpet and present an award.

This year though he was dreading it, and he wished he never agreed to present. Because this year you were going to be in attendance, nominated for best original song at the Oscars.

It had been nearly a year since your break up but it still cut deep with Chris. The pain is just as present as the day you called it all off, seemingly out of nowhere. Chris had begged you to stay, to work at it, but once you made your mind up there was no changing it. So you would always be the one that got away.

Chris just hoped he could avoid you because he didn’t trust himself not to look heartbroken whenever he saw you. He wasn’t so lucky though because as soon as he stood on the red carpet, all alone, he looked over and spotted you at the other end.

You looked stunning, in a dress that perfectly matched the suit he wore. Your hair and makeup were done to perfection, you looked like a glistening diamond amongst stones. He could hear your laughter over all the noise from the press and crowds, and it was like music to his ears. You were so happy and excited to be here, and despite how much it hurt, he was happy for you.

Only once had you stepped away and moved out of his line of vision did he look back towards the wall of cameras. He gave them all a small smile, doing his job and nothing more. Once he was done on the red carpet he made his way inside, hoping the rest of the night was easier.

To his luck, his seat wasn’t anywhere near yours. You were sat with the rest of the cast and creators of the film you wrote the song for. And he wouldn’t admit it but he was relieved to see that like him, you didn’t have a date.

It was going alright until the time came for you to perform the song that was nominated. He watched as you sat at a large black grand piano, your dress flowing out onto the floor behind you. The set was relatively simple, just filament light bulbs that faintly glowed in time to the music.

As you started to play the memory of you playing the piano at home with him flashed through his mind. He let out a long sad sigh as he looked down unable to watch you any longer.

He still listened though because despite everything your voice was still his favourite. However, his brows furrowed when he heard a particular lyric. The one about hiding under blankets on the 4th of July, because that was exactly what the two of you did when you were together.

The more Chris listened the more lyrics he heard that he could apply to your relationship. Different memories of the good times you shared before you left. Unable to help himself he looked back up and his eyes met yours as you sang the final lyric.

“Setting you free will forever be my greatest regret” you sang your eyes never leaving his as the final chord rang out through the theatre.

His view of you was obscured as the crowd all stood and applauded. Standing up alongside them Chris could see the misty look in your eyes as you looked out gratefully at the crowd, giving them a small bow of the head before gracefully walking off the stage. But not without a final glance over your shoulder in his direction.

Chris ran his hand down his face as he sat back down, shaking his head slightly to stop his mind from running away from him. The song was for a movie about a woman trying to reconnect with the child she gave up for adoption. You were singing from the perspective of the mother, the memories she wished they shared. You weren’t singing to him. He had to remember that, no matter how much the hopeless romantic inside him told him otherwise.

A short while later he made his way backstage ready to present the next award. He greet Scarlett with a smile and a hug, asking her how was she was and how the kids were doing.

“They’re good, but I mean speaking of kids, Y/N’s song… wow that was amazing brought a tear to my eye” Scarlett remarks shaking her head, her hands over her heart.

“Yeah, she always had that ability with her songs” Chris nods his head in agreement.

“She told me the song was a complete fluke, when they approached her to write a song she already had it in her arsenal, just had to change the perspective slightly but 99% of it remained unchanged” Scarlett explains as she takes the envelope from the assistant.

Chris furrows his brows at this new bit of information, his heart racing in his chest.

“Did she tell you when she wrote it?” He asks clearing his throat.

Scarlett smirks “8 months ago, you should talk to her”

Chris could only nod, pulling at his tie which suddenly felt really, really tight. He took the Oscar from the assistant and waited for the cue to walk out on stage with Scarlett.

He read out what was on the teleprompter, introducing the category and the nominees. But as soon as he got the change his eyes scanned the crowd, stopping when they met yours. A slight involuntary smile broke out on his face when you gave him a small warm one.

He then read out the winner for the award, smiling when he saw it was for the movie you worked with. He watched with a warm smile as you hugged the winner and cheered loudly for them.

Chris was still backstage talking to the winner when the award for the best original song was presented. He hung back in the wings as they read out the nominees and announced your song as the winner.

Chris clapped loudly as you walked on stage and accepted your award. Chris didn’t have the best view of you but he could tell you were emotional and in disbelief as you spoke and thanked everyone for the award.

“I put a lot into this song, probably more than usual so this is an honour that means so so much, so thank you” you finish wiping away a stray tear.

As you walked off stage, Scarlett ran over to you, hugging you tightly as she congratulated you. As you stepped out of the hug your eyes met his, he could see the hint of nervousness but your smile remained warm.

“Congratulations, the song is beautiful no one else deserves that award as much as you,” Chris tells you with a warm smile.

“Thank you Chris, that- that means a lot” you smile nodding your head.

“Can I walk you back to your seat?” Chris offers, trying not to sound too desperate.

You smile warmly up at him “that would be lovely thank you” you say linking your arm with his and letting him lead you away.

The both of you remained silent as you walk through the corridors doors of the theatre. But it wasn’t awkward though, it was comfortable. Chris just hoped he wasn’t about to make it awkward.

“Scarlett told me that you wrote that song before they even approached you,” He says looking down at you.

You nod your head gently “yeah, I didn’t think it would ever see the light of day it was…. too personal, but the movie made it possible” you admit looking up at him.

Chris comes to a stop, turning to face you “do you still mean it? What you said in the song?” He asks quietly.

“Yes,” you whisper.

A/N: I will not be doing a part 2, so DO NOT ASK FOR ONE OR TELL ME I SHOULD DO ONE! I will not change my mind!

Sharing is caring so please reblog if you enjoyed this and maybe even leave a comment to make my day!

Masterlist

I don’t have a taglist so follow @secretswiftymarvelfanlibrary and turn on post notifications to be kept up to date!

#NiamhWrites #Chris Evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #Chris evans x you #chris x reader #chris x y/n #chris x you

237 notes · View notes

thetiniestfangirl · 2 months

Text

i’m sleepless and delirious so i thought fuck it. i’m finally gonna share my aftg oc i’ve been sitting on for nearly three years now with y’all. why now? because i’m really proud of her.

warning, this runs the risk of portraying some characters as ooc so i’d love to hear what parts stood out to you as such so i can amend it. second warning, this is batshit. but that’s why we love aftg, right?

anyhoo. our story begins back in the days where wymack was hooking up with kayleigh. now we know man’s was a slut way back when, so what was to stop him from unintentionally siring another baby with a toxic french women?

this introduces us to darcy, wymack’s daughter and kevin’s half sister that neither know exists. she’s raised by her alcoholic mother, who carries a disdain for both her child and exy. this leads darcy to start playing it as a way to escape her mother’s house and it soon becomes her favourite thing in the world.

this is where her backstory takes a bit of inspiration from fezco’s on euphoria. darcy’s mother drinks herself to death and the little girl is taken in by her mother’s sister, a drug dealer. darcy starts off as a mule in her aunt’s ring but slowly rises in the ranks; she’s as skilled in her science and maths as well as she is with a shotgun. she aiming to succeed her aunt’s role when she steps down but when celine (her aunt) sees how good a striker she is, she applies darcy for the fox scholarship at palmetto.

the foxes are not at all what she’s expecting. they’re a shit team and going nowhere fast. not about to throw away the fresh start she’s been handed, darcy throws herself into curating a new image for herself. college athletics is all about branding, right? and the girl knows a thing or two about marketing. she becomes an easy fan favourite overnight, adored for her charm in interviews, her skill and sass on the court and her #relatabilty on social media. she’s a performer and a good one at that.

but the girl isn’t perfect. she’s smiling at cameras and sneering back at her teammates. she’s angry, violently so. it’s the kind of anger that bubbles under the skin until it explodes. though she completely renounces her dealing, she still hangs on to her pistols (she’s liscensed and registered). just in case.

while her exy personality gains her the ire of riko, her real one catches the eye of andrew minyard and his monsters. after a series of torment and trials (leading to a physical altercation that leaves the lot of them bloodied and bruised as well as the columbia house trashed), darcy is inducted into the monsters. while andrew has no reason to trust her past, he knows that good dealers never sample their goods. he also knows that darcy’s reputation means more to her than anything at palmetto. this is what leads him to appoint darcy as somewhat of aaron’s keeper of sobriety in exchange for his protection of her. btw this all occurs the year before neil arrives.

okay. i’m sleepy so that’s enough chaos for now. lemme know if you wanna hear more or if you have any questions. this lore goes fucking deep.

#aftg #all for the game #neil josten #andrew minyard #aaron minyard #kevin day #nicky hemmick #david wymack #riko moriyama #the foxes

31 notes · View notes

sourwolf-sterek32 · 1 month

Text

Idiotic Hero

Summary: Nikki Sixx chooses a random fan from the crowd to come on stage and it happens to be you. But what happens when a person with a knife pushes through security and runs straight towards you both?

Pairings: Nikki Sixx x Reader, Mötley Crüe & Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings- language, blood, serious injury, mentions of past drug & alcohol abuse

Part 1

The World Tour: Mötley Crüe and Def Leppard.

It was actually happening. Eight years since Mötley Crüe's 'final tour' in 2015 and they were back performing live not just in front of crowds on a stage but in front of tens of thousands of fans in stadiums all across the world.

You couldn't stop pinching yourself as you leant against the barricade in the front row of their concert. How you even managed to get such great tickets was a question you still couldn't answer but you were so incredibly happy.

Growing up your father raised you on rock music. Mötley Crüe, Aerosmith, AC/DC, Guns 'N Roses, Bon Jovi, Alice Cooper, the list was basically infinite.

There was no shortage of rock music in your childhood house. Your father was the one who introduced you to Mötley Crüe, but little five-year-old you had no idea how far your obsession and hyper-fixation with this band would go.

From listening to Girls Girls Girls in the back of your father's truck on the way to school to blasting Kickstart My Heart many years later while driving home from your dead-end job. Mötley Crüe was your favourite band. As a child you enjoyed their music, blissfully unaware of the meaning behind some of their songs as you shouted the lyrics from the backseat. But despite liking their music at a young age, you never became a full-on fan or Crüehead until you were older.

Now, you understood the meaning behind their songs and lyrics... some quite questionable (yes, I'm looking at you All In The Name Of...) but they were still great songs that resonated deeply within you. Now you were older you were able to properly appreciate the music. Most of Mötley Crüe's songs were close to your heart. Afraid and Home Sweet Home more so than any others.

Being able to see them live in person was something you were still struggling to comprehend. Even now as you stood in front of the barricade staring at the empty stage in front of you waiting for the concert to start, it was still unimaginable. It felt as if you were dreaming. And you feared that your alarm clock would wake you up any minute. But that annoying ringtone never rang, instead loud emergency buzzing started as the large screens either side of the stage lit up with the words;

'NATIONAL ALERT Primary Entry Point System Issued an Emergency Action Notification'

If you hadn't been so obsessed with this band, you might have been worried reading those words and hearing the emergency alarm. But you had already seen YouTube videos of their World Tour concerts and knew the show was about to get wild. Literally.

The guitar intro for Wild Side started shortly after and you stood there mouth agape in awe as John 5, Mötley's new guitarist, appeared out of nowhere shredding on his guitar.

Many hated John 5 simply because of the fact he was standing where Mick Mars used to be. And yeah, you understood that. Mick Mars is an absolute beast with a guitar, but John 5 was a damn good guitarist too. From playing with Rob Zombie and Marilyn Manson, John 5 had the experience and the skill to continue on Mick's legacy with Mötley Crüe. And he was proving that right before your eyes.

Suddenly drums joined in with the guitar and your head snapped to the left in shock to find Tommy Lee sitting behind his drum kit. You had been so focused on John 5 in his long white coat you didn't even notice Tommy sneaking up on stage and by the screams coming from the mass crowd behind you, nobody else did either.

Then Nikki Sixx and Vince Neil rushed out from the side onto the stage, and you began screaming in pure happiness with the crowd.

This was real.

Mötley Crüe were here. They were right in front of you.

Holy fucking shit.

It was actually happening.

Your internal freak out was cut short when Vince began to scream those first words and suddenly everything else around you faded away as you got sucked into the music.

All your life issues and problems outside of this stadium vanished. All the stress and pressure from work, gone. Nothing else mattered in this moment as you stared at the band, at the four men on stage who meant everything to you.

"How you guys doing tonight?!" Vince shouted through the microphone after finishing Wild Side and Shout At The Devil. Hewalked up to the front of the stage staring out at the crowd who all cheered and screamed in response. "Now tell me, who likes to listen to the old shit?"

The crowd went ballistic and you right along with them as you screamed up at Vince who was smirking at the fans. Vince Neil was a showman. He loved performing and putting on a show for everyone. This was what he was born to do and even now at 62 years of age, he was still rocking it.

"How about something from the first album?" He asked and the crowd cheered so loudly it hurt your ears and Vince grinned turning back to his bandmates. "Let's do it!"

John 5 suddenly unleashed on his guitar, Tommy joining in with his drums and you grinned ear to ear recognising Too Fast For Love instantly.

Don't Go Away Mad Live Wire Looks That Kill The Dirt

Song after song and you were in pure bliss listening to them play while screaming along with Vince to the words. And when Tommy sat down behind the piano that got wheeled onto stage, tears were burning in your eyes before the song even started.

Home Sweet Home.

This song meant so much to you. After moving out of home young for your career and living over eight hours away from your friends and family this song hit you harder than any other.

You knew there was a chance you'd tear up during this song, but after the first few words "you know I'm a dreamer" you were done for. Silent tears trickled down your face as you sung the words that meant so much to you.

Nikki walked around the back of the piano patting Tommy's shoulder before he stood at the edge of stage right in front of you. His eyes scanned over the crowd in amazement. Even after 40+ years of touring you could tell that Nikki never took this for granted as he stared out at his fans in genuine happiness.

"But my heart's of gold I had to run away high So I wouldn't come home low"

Nikki placed his hand over his inner elbow while Vince sang which only made you cry harder knowing all about his battle with heroin that had killed him back in 1987. You briefly thought back to his book The Heroin Diaries and all the pain and suffering inside those pages. Nikki had been through so much shit yet overcame his drug and alcohol addictions and was now living his best life. 22 years sober. You were so incredibly proud of him.

Suddenly, as if Nikki could somehow sense your thoughts his head turned, and his beautiful smoky eyes locked with yours.

"Take me to your heart." You sang in tune with Vince as Nikki placed his hand over his heart while maintaining eye contact.

You continued to sing the lyrics. Nikkis smile widening with each word. Tears were still trickling down your face, but you didn't wipe them away as you sang, and he eventually turned his attention away leaving you standing there feeling breathless.

Now that your eyes weren't locked with the bassist you took a moment to turn and look at the crowd yourself. Lights from phones illuminated the entire stadium. You stood there with wide eyes watching all the lights going round and round in tune with the beat while Vince sung his heart out.

After Home Sweet Home they got into Smokin' In The Boys Room. It was amazing.

As they continued through the songs, you occasionally caught Nikki looking at you. Sometimes briefly, just one flash of his beautiful smoky eyes before he was looking away again. But sometimes he'd hold your gaze for a few moments while he strummed away on his bass, and you sang the words to each and every song with so much passion and enthusiasm.

Nikki probably thought you were crazy. You knew every word to every song and hell, you were even sporting his signature black war stripes on your cheeks that matched his own identically.

"I wanna introduce you to somebody who's up here." Vince suddenly said through the microphone. "He's my brother. He's a badass. And he's a bass player. Give it up for Mr. Nikki Sixx!" Vince shouted pointing at the bassist in question who began walking to the front of the stage his bass no longer strapped around his shoulder.

Nikki and Vince fist bumped as they walked past each other. The singer disappeared off stage for a drink break with the rest of the band leaving Nikki alone on stage as he walked up to the microphone pole.

"Well, how the fuck are you guys doing?" Nikki called out speaking for the first time. "Anyone wanna come up here on stage with me?"

Your heart thundered in your chest like a drum as Nikki's eyes scanned the crowd before locking with yours. Then your heart quite literally stopped and all you could do was stare right back at him as he pointed at you and curled his finger up in a come here motion.

"Get that beautiful girl up here." Nikki ordered his gaze holding yours for a moment before he turned back to the rest of the crowd and continued to talk about the tour.

If someone held a gun to your head and told you to repeat what Nikki was now talking about. You'd be dead because you were not listening to a word the bassist was saying anymore as blood rushed in your ears. All you could focus on was the security guard walking over to you as you shakily began climbing over the barricade.

The guard helped you over safely before guiding you around to the side of stage and pointed at the stairs without a word.

Wait, were you meant to just walk up the stairs onto the stage? Did Nikki want you up there now? Oh, God you were panicking and overthinking this.

"I saw you singing every word to every song. Come up here." Nikki's voice cut through your internal panic as he appeared at the top of the stairs and held his hand out towards you.

Sucking in a deep breath trying to calm your nerves, you took Nikki's hand and climbed onto stage. And holy fuck there were a lot of people in that crowd. It was a never-ending sea of fans packed into the stadium and all of them were staring at you and Nikki.

"It's okay. Don't be nervous, sweetheart." Nikki whispered lowering the microphone so nobody else could hear him. "What's your name?"

"Y/N."

He smiled, "pretty name. It suits you."

You couldn't stop the small smile from spreading across your face at his compliment as you ducked your head feeling your cheeks blushing.

"It's fans like you guys that make all this possible." Nikki began to say into the microphone before he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side. "And if you'll have us, we will be back soon I promise you that!"

The crowd erupted in applause and screams causing you to flinch not expecting it. Nikki's arm tightened around you ever so slightly noticing your reaction. He continued to talk to the crowd while holding you against his side. You allowed yourself to relax in his hold and leant into his touch getting memorised by his musky cologne.

It was hard to believe Nikki Sixx was 64. He still ran around on stage with his bass like he did back in the 80s. Well, maybe not as much. Nikki did used to drink Jack Daniels straight from the bottle and roll around on stage back in the day. His beard and hair were obviously dyed now, but he looked damn good for his age. The thick muscular arm holding onto you was enough proof to say that Nikki Sixx aged like fine wine. He was only getting better and better as the years passed.

"I have a very important question for you." Nikki began to say, and you tilted your head up surprised to find him looking right back at you.

Oh, he wasn't talking to the crowd anymore. He was talking straight to you.

His face was so close to yours you could smell a hint of mint on his breath. It was strangely refreshing.

You bit your lip nervously and nodded staring into his beautiful sea green eyes awaiting his question anxiously.

"What song would you like us to play next? It's your choice."

Oh my God.

The crowd all started shouting song names that you couldn't quite decipher as you held Nikki's gaze. He was smirking like he could see you suddenly panicking because despite the fact that you knew every single one of their songs from all the albums, you were coming up blank.

Nothing.

Not one song title was coming to mind.

"Give us a song we haven't played in years!" A familiar voice called out causing the crowd to cheer.

You glanced over your shoulder to find Tommy Lee strolling back onto stage with his drum sticks in his hands. God, he had aged like fine wine too.

Then Vince Neil and John 5 began to make their way back on the stage. Hell, all of Mötley Crüe had aged like fine wine, who were you kidding? John 5 was younger than the others but still looked fantastic in his 50s. Vince always copped so much hate on social media due to his weight gain, but fuck those haters because Vince Neil looked damn good for his age. And he had lost a significant amount of weight since their last tour back in 2015.

Mötley Crüe's good looks were not helping your sudden internal freak out though as you turned your head back to Nikki who was smiling at you like he knew what was running through your head.

"Afraid from Generation Swine or Knock 'Em Dead Kid from Too Fast For Love. You can pick which one you like better." You hurriedly answered the second your brain decided to actually function.

You were honoured to be able to choose the next song, but was worried that you'd pick a song the guys wouldn't like or a song that you couldn't remember very well. At least this way the four of them could decide which one they wanted to play themselves.

Nikki grinned, "I knew I picked you for a reason. You're clearly a fan. I like you."

Hearing those words coming from Nikki Sixx himself was something you didn't know you needed to hear. Your heart fluttered as you smiled at him but didn't dare trust yourself to speak fearing you'd either stutter your words and make a fool of yourself or just start bawling your eyes out from happiness.

"Fuck yeah! You have no idea how many people just pick the popular songs. It's boring." Vince's voice piped up through his own microphone.

"Why don't we play both?" John suggested.

Nikki glanced back down at you and opened his mouth to speak but then the crowd suddenly started shouting snapping his attention away from you abruptly.

The shouting from the crowd didn't sound right though. And by the way Nikki's body had turned tense on alert beside you, you knew something was wrong.

The fans in the crowd closest to the stage were all yelling and pointing at something behind you. Nikki quickly turned, his arm slipping from your shoulder as you spun around and that's when you saw the stranger running on stage.

Vince and John quickly backed away while security swarmed the area frantically trying to climb up onto the stage to stop the unknown man. Nikki raised his arm in front of your body almost protectively as the man turned towards you both with a crazed look in his eye.

Suddenly, he bolted straight towards you. But he wasn't looking at you. His wide eyes were zeroed in on one thing and one thing only, Nikki Sixx.

Security were hot on his tail. But the man was fast. Too fast. Then, he reached into his jacket pocket, and you saw a flash of a silver blade.

In a split second you realised two things; one, security weren't going to stop this crazy man in time and two, he had a knife and he was heading straight for Nikki.

Without thinking you pushed the bassist to the side not expecting your own sudden strength as Nikki fell off the side of the stage. But you didn't have time to worry if he was okay or not because the next thing you knew the crazy man crashed straight into you instead of his intended target.

You stumbled back a few steps at the impact but managed to keep your feet before shoving him off you. That was all the time security needed before they grabbed the crazy man who instantly started thrashing like a wild animal in their grip.

The crowd around you had turned eerily silent as they watched security struggling to contain the intruder. More guards jumped onto the stage to assist and eventually the group of them managed to get the man under control and began escorting him off stage.

Your heartbeat was skyrocketing. Body shaking with adrenaline as you breathed heavily watching the man still trying to fight the guards.

Wait, Nikki.

As if on cue, the bassist appeared out of nowhere after lifting himself up the side of the stage with a grunt before limping over to you. Guilt instantly washed over you because he was favouring his right foot and it clearly hurt.

"I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" You hurriedly questioned rushing over to him on instinct as you looked down at his boot worriedly.

"Am I okay? Are you?" He questioned in shock his eyes raking over your body looking for any signs of injury.

But then his face drained of all colour and his eyes paused over your midsection and widen into saucers.

You frowned and followed his line of sight and had to do a double take when you saw the knife sticking out your lower abdomen.

The man stabbed you.

How the hell did you not notice that?

Suddenly, it was as if a switch had been flipped and the adrenaline soaring through your veins began to subside and that's when the pain started. White hot pain radiated through your body like a fire burning from within.

"Oh fuck." Nikki swore under his breath.

Without thinking, you reached down with shaky fingers and grabbed the handle of the knife.

"Wait, don't-"

You yanked the blade out before Nikki could finish that sentence.

It hurt. You needed to get it out. But that did nothing to stop the pain though. If anything, it hurt more causing you to cry out as the blade slipped from your now bloodied fingers and fell to the floor of the stage.

Blood began to pour from the open wound like a dam bursting. Oh, that was a bad idea. That was a really bad idea.

You quickly covered the wound with your hand knowing you needed to keep pressure on it to slow the bleeding, but warm red liquid was already oozing out from between your fingers, staining your shirt and dripping down your pants.

The crowd was silent as the thousands of fans watched on in pure shock. Mötley Crüe concerts were never quiet. Even between songs the crowd were up and around cheering and screaming, but not tonight. Nobody moved. Nobody dared to speak as they all stared at you in the middle of the stage.

Everything around you started to turn blurry as you took a staggering step back. Your legs buckling from underneath you but before you hit the ground, Nikki's strong hands were on you. Gently he eased your body down onto the floor moving slowly not wanting to hurt you further as he laid you down.

Suddenly his hands were removing yours from the wound so he could take in the damage but clearly didn't like what he saw as he cursed under his breath. His hands quickly pressed down against the stab wound on your stomach causing you to whimper at the pain it caused.

"I know. I know. I'm sorry. I need to keep pressure on it. I'm sorry." Nikki apologised, his sea green eyes filled with so much panic as he looked over his shoulder. "We need a medic!"

"We need a medic on stage!" Vince's voice repeated through a microphone loudly.

Nikki frantically pulled out the bandana from his back pocket and bundled it up before pressing the material against the wound. But the once blue and white fabric soon turned a dark crimson.

"Shit. Shit. Where's the medic?!" Nikki shouted desperately.

Vince suddenly appeared over his shoulder unsure what was going on but when he saw all the blood his face paled. The singer frantically ripped off his scarf and knelt beside Nikki pressing it down against the blood-soaked bandana causing you to wince at the pain.

"Fuck. What happened? Did he stab her?" Vince questioned taking in all the blood.

"He wanted to stab me. But she stopped him." Nikki muttered angrily through gritted teeth. "Where's the fucking medic?"

You glanced to the side just in time to see John 5 dropping his guitar and running off stage to find a medic as Tommy sprinted over but froze when he realised what was happening.

"I'm sorry." You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Shh. It's okay, save your energy. You're gonna be fine, okay? You're gonna be fine." Nikki reassured, but you weren't sure if he was trying to reassure you or himself.

"Get that fucking camera out of here!" Tommy's voice boomed in the background somewhere, but everything was starting to spin as your eyes fluttered shut.

"Hey. No, no, no, wake up. Y/N, sweetheart, open your eyes." Nikkis voice begged before a hand suddenly cupped the side of your face and you forced your eyes open to find Nikki's panicked green one's looking straight at you. "Stay awake, you hear me? Stay awake."

"Sixx, it's not stopping." Vince warned grimacing at the now blood-soaked scarf he was still using as a makeshift bandage over the wound.

"Damnit." Nikki hissed, pushing his hand down harder in attempt to stem the blood flow causing you to groan in agony. "Sorry. Sorry. I know it hurts. I'm sorry."

"Just hold on a little longer, kid." Vince instructed while frantically looking around for the medic.

"There-there are worst ways to die." You winced, your tired eyes flicking between Nikki and Vince before Tommy dropped to his knees on your other side. His shaking hands hovered over your stomach not sure what to do to help as he stared at you helplessly terrified. "Dying with... with Mötley Crüe by my side ain't a bad way to-to go out."

"No." Nikki shook his head. "You're not dying. Not on my watch."

"It's okay." You whispered, his bloodied hand still cupping your face.

"It's not okay. Nothing about this is okay. Fuck! You shouldn't have pushed me out the way-"

"It doesn't hurt anymore. It's okay." Your voice was becoming weaker as you struggled to keep your eyes open.

"Shit." Vince swore knowing that was bad.

The guys all looked around at each other their fearful panicked expressions matching. They didn't know what else to do and you were fading fast.

"Over here!" John 5 shouted sprinting back onto the stage with two paramedics hot on his tail. "She was stabbed and- fuck, that's a lot of blood."

The last thing you saw was Tommy and Vince trying to pull Nikki away from you as paramedics rushed over before everything faded into darkness.

Next Chapter

MASTERLIST pinned to profile If anyone wants to be tagged just let me know

A/N: I am writing this purely for myself and if anyone else happens to read and like it, then that's a bonus. The first part of this fic was based on my own personal experience during their concert last year but obviously everything after going on stage is completely made up.

If I was the girl he asked to go on stage I would either just start crying or pass out... maybe both.

#nikki sixx #motley crue #motley crue x reader #motley crue fanfiction #tommy lee #vince neil #john 5 #nikki sixx x reader #nikki sixx fanfiction #tommy lee x reader #tommy lee fanfic #pov #imagine #fanfic #80s rock #80s music #glam rock

90 notes · View notes

austinsmutler · 2 years

Text

The Walls Have Ears | Austin!Elvis x Reader | One-Shot

Summary: While on tour with the carnival, Elvis takes you into the hall of mirrors for some privacy. Smut ensues.

Pairing: Austin!Elvis x Reader (can also be irl Elvis x Reader)

What you’ll like: Smut, dom!elvis, Elvis adoring every bone in your body, Elvis being a cocky little shit, established relationship

Warnings: semi-public sex, teasing, light choking, creampie, general sexy fanfic stuff. Minors dni.

If any of the above will trigger you, go read Just Pretend instead- it's light, fluffy, and comes with 0 content warnings!

Word Count: 2846

A/N: Good lord this was fun to write. I hope you like it.

Masterlist | Requests are currently open (Please tell me everything you want! Confess your sins, spill the gossip! Have a good time with it!)

“You can do anything, but lay offa my blue suede shoes!”

With a twang of the guitar, the song was over, and the audience (mainly young women) began pelting your boyfriend with their undergarments. Dating Elvis was many things, but you weren’t sure you’d ever get used to the sight of him smirking, holding up a particularly lacy pair of pink panties. The stage was so covered, it was a wonder anyone in the crowd had clothes left. He probably could have found a matching set if he’d looked hard enough.

Instead, Elvis laughed and tossed them at Scotty’s head, lowering his voice for the next song.

“If you’re looking for trouble…”

You looked away before the next volley of intimates could be launched. Dating Elvis the man was easy; dating the god who took over onstage was hard.

“He certainly has a way with the women, doesn’t he?” The Colonel chuckled, coming up beside you backstage. You had a perfect side-view of Elvis, could just make out the sea of women in front of him past the glow of the stage lights.

“He’s always been good with a crowd. Ever since our first school talent show, I knew he was special.”

The older man studied you from the corner of his eye. “Yes, special.”

You ignored him as best you could- everything about the way the Colonel moved, looked, spoke, gave the impression he was hiding something. Making his own plans that nobody else could see coming. You watched every show from the sidelines with him, and he never seemed interested in Elvis or the music, never once swayed or tapped his foot. No, his eyes stayed glued to the crowd, the rapture on every young girl’s face as Elvis swayed and sang his heart out. The Colonel only ever saw dollar signs on that stage.

Anyone who could look at Elvis on stage and feel nothing was someone you couldn’t trust. But Elvis trusted him enough for the both of you, always insisted ‘He’s done alright by us so far, hasn’t he?’ and so you continued touring with the carnival.

That didn't mean you had to stick around with him giving you that odd look, though.

You were walking around the fair grounds alone, waiting for the show to wrap up, when a hand grabbed yours from nowhere. You span around to see two blue eyes gleaming in amusement.

“Hey baby. Didn’t mean to startle ya.”

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile. “I wasn’t scared.”

“No?”

“Nah. I knew you’d be coming to find me sometime soon.”

“Always.” Elvis promised. His eyes were wild, clearly still high from the adrenaline of his performance. He gave your hand a hard squeeze. “C’mon. Let’s go have some fun.”

He was dragging you forward before you could ask what he meant, leaving you almost running to keep up with his big strides. He was breezing past all the usual favourites: the ball toss, ferris wheel, rollercoaster, past the cotton candy, peanuts and popcorn. Soon a very specific destination came into view: the hall of mirrors.

It was closed- had been all week.

“Elvis?” He slowed to let you catch your breath, arm around your waist to tug you close. You could feel how warm he was through his black lace shirt, the sweat from his performance palpable, even through your plain white button-up… not that you minded.

“Elvis? It’s closed.” You repeated with a frown.

Elvis looked down at you with that famous lopsided grin- one you had been the first to see from him, which he’d mimicked in publicity shots because he knew what it did to you. It was meant as an inside joke on his first album cover, and now girls around the country were fawning over that smile. But it was all yours.

“I know. That’s why we’re going in.” He leaned so his breath was close to your ear, sending a shot of warmth right to your core. “You trust me, don’t you?”

You whimpered and tried unsuccessfully to cover it up with a cough. “Yes. Of course I do.”

“Come on.” He was tugging your arm again, but this time it was gentle, as if he wasn’t sure you’d follow, even as he held the door open for you. He made sure to close it shut behind you so nobody would see anything awry, even if they were looking.

It was lit up inside the hall as Elvis led you through, one hand in yours, until you were deep in the maze, surrounded by your own reflections.

It was quiet in here- the music and noise of the carnival damped by the thin walls and mirrors. You knew how the maze worked- it needed people inside the walls to open the exit, and since this attraction was closed, there was no way out. So why had he insisted on coming?

Soft lips on yours answered the question. His kiss was firm but exploratory, testing the waters. Despite dating for years, some parts of your relationship were still so new he treated them like fine China. Physical acts were one such thing.

While your parents had allowed you to tour with your boyfriend for the summer, it was under the express rule that you slept in a separate hotel room, and that nothing untoward would happen.

Well, the Colonel did book you a lot of rooms. Whether or not you slept in them was another thing entirely. You and Elvis were young, dating since the first year of high school, and had other ideas. In your eyes, you were as good as married- and the first time he pressed into you, even though it was in a cheap hotel room, you were wed.

This was different, though. You were careful not to be seen together in public acting too much like a couple. The way his hands were snaking up to cup your ass and wrap your legs around him, you weren’t exactly being subtle. The thought of that unlocked door at the beginning of the maze made your heart pump faster, the idea that anyone, at any moment, could come in and find you like this made every touch burn.

“This okay, angel?” Elvis murmured against your ear.

Your arms held on to the back of his neck for dear life as you nodded, biting back a moan as he rubbed against you in just the right way. He was painfully hard between your thighs, and every thrust sent a shot of warmth to your center. The sounds leaving your mouth were pure scandal, muffled only when he kissed you as deeply as his tongue could reach.

“I’ve been thinkin’ bout this all day.” Elvis breathed, one hand snaking up your thigh to reach beneath your poodle skirt. He moved so slow it was hard to tell if he was testing or teasing or both. From the way his darkened eyes studied your every move, it was probably both. “Been thinkin’ bout taking you in here. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

“What do you want to do?” You whimpered, his fingers coming to a pause just outside your underwear.

Elvis pressed his forehead against yours and breathed, “Everything.”

You rolled your hips, trying to get him to move his hand, to rub against you, anything. How could he say that and stay so perfectly still? The smirk that overtook his face was infuriating as anything. Elvis knew the effect he had on women, but better than that, he knew the effect he had on you. He could have you melting into a puddle on the floor without even touching you, as long as he gave you the right look and said the right words.

His fingers found their way under your panties, teasing your entrance, and he let out a groan. “So wet for me already?”

“Always.” You met his gaze and wrapped your legs around him that much tighter. “Please, Elvis. I need you.”

You let out a yelp of surprise when his hand withdrew and he unwrapped your legs from around him, quickly spinning you around so your back was to him. Not that it mattered- you could see him from every angle in every mirror. More than that, you could see yourself for the first time, cheeks flushed, lips parted with want, eyes dark with lust.

“You’re so beautiful, baby.” Elvis held your gaze in the mirror, his arms wrapping around you from behind to touch you everywhere. He cupped your neck for a minute, squeezing lightly, before making his way down to your breasts, unbuttoning your shirt just enough that your bra was visible. His fingers trailed down the sliver of skin between your breasts before making their way back up. Then his hands were under your bra, ghosting over your nipples and pulling unsightly sounds from your lips. “I want you to see what I see.”

His voice rumbled low, growling to himself as he trailed open-mouth kissed up your neck. That alone was almost too much: seeing his eyes so dark, the dishevelled look of you, the way you shook in his arms as you fought your own weak knees. You screwed your eyes shut, earning a sharp pinch to your nipple that made you jump.

“No.” Elvis said simply. “Look at yourself, baby.”

Against your own feelings, you opened your eyes in time to see his hand making its way to the hem of your black poodle skirt, slowly hiking it up your thigh. You were completely leaning on him now, acutely aware of his hardness pressing into your ass, grinding slowly as his hand moved under your skirt.

“Keep them open.”

His fingers were back in their rightful place- just outside your underwear, shy of where you wanted them by less than an inch. If you moved right, he’d be on your clit. Unfortunately, his strong grip on your hip prevented any such rebellion.

Instead, the hand under your skirt played rhythms on your inner thigh, ghosting over where you needed them most. Your breath hitched as his finger traced over your slit, no doubt feeling your wetness through your panties, but if it affected him he hid it well. His face didn’t change, studying yours in the mirror as you grew more hot and bothered by the second.

“Good girl,” He groaned into your ear, finally letting his fingers put pressure on your clit. You moaned so loudly he clamped a hand over your mouth. “Shh. The walls have ears in this place, baby. We gotta keep quiet.”

How was that possible when he chose that moment to plunge a finger into you? Elvis smirked at the sound you made through his fingers, hand not leaving your mouth. He found your favourite spot and ran a finger along there, concentrating his attention in a way he knew would drive you towards the edge, fast.

Your walls began to flutter around him and your eyes rolled into the back of your head, shutting tightly as you prepared to ride out-

His fingers stopped where they were, still inside you, knuckle-deep. You opened your eyes and shot Elvis a look that made him chuckle.

“I said keep your eyes open. You shut ‘em, not me.”

“Tease.” You rolled your hips, hand reaching up behind you to tangle in his hair. “They’re open again now. Wide open.”

His eyes darkened as you tugged, dragging his head close to the sweet spot on your neck. You knew what pulling on his hair did to him, especially when he had it all gelled up for a performance. The mussed-up look it gave him was one he wore only for you.

You batted your eyelashes and breathed, "I'm watching."

He swore. Before you could breathe, he had you face-first against the mirror, arms pinned above your head and hips pressed against him.

“I was gonna wait, but…” Elvis licked his lips and looked at you in the mirror, the hungriest look you’d ever seen on another human being. He looked wild, nothing but mussed-up hair and blown-out pupils as he pulled his pants down just enough to position himself at your entrance. He paused and caught your gaze in the mirror. Even now, a question flashed through his eyes: Is this alright with you?

“Elvis.” You shifted your hips and met his gaze evenly, “Fuck me.”

That was all he needed. The hand that wasn’t holding your arms in place grabbed your hips and he entered you in one thrust, pulling a yelp of pleasure from somewhere deep within you. Your head fell down as you had no time to savour the sensation before he set a wild pace.

Elvis pulled your hair back, forcing you to look at him. Your walls fluttered at the look on his face, the way his jaw was set and teeth grit as he fucked you with everything he had.

Your hips rose to meet his every thrust- he was good with his fingers, but you were sure his cock could cure you of the worst moods. It had many times before. You were certain it would continue to do so. Elvis reached around and began rubbing your clit in a frenzy, breathing against the back of your neck,

“S’tight, baby, I ain’t gonna last long. I need you to come for me.”

He didn’t need to tell you twice. Between the way his cock worked in you, hitting your spot with every thrust, the way his fingers worked you with the expert skill of a guitar player, and the way he was looking at you in that mirror like you were the only thing that mattered- you came undone in moments.

To his credit, Elvis slowed after your orgasm, giving you the short, deep thrusts you knew were designed to milk your pleasure for as much as it was worth. You could tell he was close, holding back by a thread. The renewed tension in his shoulders as his hands took your hips again, fingers digging into the flesh there with bruising strength; the way his eyes bored into you, not studying you, no deep thoughts bubbling in his mind. When he looked at you like that, it felt like the most honest way a man can look at a woman.

“S’good for me.” Elvis panted, pulling you up by the hair as his thrusts became more erratic. Your back was flush against his, the lace of his shirt rubbing harshly through the fabric of yours.

The image in the mirror was positively debased. Your mouth hung open, red lipstick smudged ever so slightly. Your breasts bounced with every thrust inside your slightly-askew bra. Elvis had his head nestled in the crook of your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses there, never once breaking eye contact in the mirror. He looked just as debauched as you, despite his clothes being mostly-buttoned, pants pulled down just enough to do what he needed to you. Then there was the look in his eyes that told you how much he was loving this.

Elvis' breath fanned out over your neck as he panted, “I perform, and when I look at that crowd I know I could have any woman there.”

You whimpered as his hand came back up to your throat with a possessive squeeze.

“But I don’t want any of them. Never. Not one of them is as good as you.”

You believed it, too. The desperate look in his eyes begged you to believe him. His thrusts were faster now, pulling delicious sounds from your throat that only egged him on.

“They throw themselves at me, and all I can think about is finally getting off that stage and finding you. Doing this.” Elvis growled against your throat, pushing you until you were bent over, leaning on the mirror for balance. You kept your head up to meet his gaze and watch as he repeated the same words with every thrust, so low you could barely hear,

“Only you. Only you. Just you.”

Then he came, taking a second orgasm from you as he went, your walls milking him for all he was worth until he went still, withdrawing after a long moment of panting against your back, one arm around your waist as Elvis struggled to hold you both up.

Afterward, you helped him put himself back together, smoothing down his hair and re-buttoning his lace shirt. He did the same for you, re-buttoning your shirt with such tenderness it would have been hard to believe he’d just taken you so fiercely, the evidence of which was safely hidden beneath the many layers of your poodle skirt and petticoats.

Elvis pressed a kiss to your lips. “Thank you. I needed that.”

“Thank you.” You couldn’t help but giggle, sore in all the right places. “I hope this place stays out of order.”

He gave you that lopsided grin again before taking your hand. “C’mon. Lemme get you something to eat.”

“Popcorn?”

He tucked you close to his side with one arm around you, feeling for a way out with the other.

“Whatever you want, baby, I’ll give you.”

#austin butler fanfic #austin butler fic #austin butler #austin butler imagine #austin!elvis #austin!elvis x reader #austin butler x reader #elvis 2022 #austin butler elvis #austin butler smut #elvis smut #elvis presley smut #50s elvis smut #austin!elvis fanfic #austin!elvis x y/n #austin!elvis smut #austin!elvis imagine #austin elvis imagine #austin elvis smut

465 notes · View notes