#i don’t speak british so i don’t know if that’s the right accent | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

python333 · 8 months

Note

im in love with your content omg😭 your writing style is just chefs kiss

can i req a reader with the tf141 being on a mission and hearing an enemy say something in british slang and they just go "what did they just say.." in comms? like a reader who doesnt know anything about slang like not even that bars in the uk r called pubs (if im not wrong) and just nods whenever a private talks in slang, and their brain is just trying to figure out what they just said?

its just a really silly plot with a silly reader :3

pardon? — python333

— — — —

synopsis just as the req says, you know nothing about british slang and on a mission the enemy speaks british and you dont know what theyre saying :3

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & reader.

characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

word count 2.6k

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note HI YES I LOVE THIS REQ!! i take every opportunity i can to make fun of british people so this is right up my alley!! tysm for the compliments hjfhdjskf recently ive been getting more praise on my works and it makes me so happy i love yall. again, sorry if this sounds a little rushed or if any parts are incoherent, i wrote this at 12/1am and im both more productive and write more nonsense at this time + this one is wayyyy shorter than ones i usually do because i didnt know what else to write for it so i apologize for that as well! this is pure fluff and humor (i like to think im funny) so enjoy!!

“—eah, and now we have to camp out here ‘cause he can’t be arsed to do it ‘imself, so I feel like we should have a chat with the others, see if they’re willing to leg it out of here with us,” An enemy soldier suggests to you, his British accent thick enough that you think it might be cockney.

You cross your arms to hide your shaking hands and nod in agreement, as if you understood anything he said, and put on the same shitty British accent you’d been using for the past five minutes you’d been talking to this guy.

“Yeah, yeah, totally,” You agree, clearing your throat before asking, “You know where the others are stationed?”

“You don’t?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you suspiciously.

“Mate, all the orders I was given went in one ear and out the other,” You sigh, holding back a wince at your desperate attempt to sound more natural using British slang, “I just know I’ve got to stand out here and shoot the enemy.”

The enemy eyes you suspiciously and he takes a moment to try and read your face before he says, “I don’t think I’ve seen you before, actually. Which would be weird, if we’re in the same platoon, don’t you—”

You sigh and quickly pull out the small switchblade you had hanging on your belt, stabbing the enemy in the neck before he can say anything else and grabbing him before he can drop to the ground, putting a hand behind his back as you half lead half drag him into a dark alleyway beside the building he was stationed outside of.

You quickly set him down into a sitting position and take your knife out of his throat, tucking the blade back into the handle before adjusting it to latch onto your belt once again, letting out a frustrated huff as you stare at the now dead man in front of you.

“[c/n], how copy?” Price’s voice crackles through on your ear piece.

You push in the PTT button and lower your voice, “Copy, I fucked up a little bit. One of the guys was onto me.”

“You were there for five bloody minutes,” Gaz’s voice rings through, his tone both disbelieving and amused, “How’d he already catch onto you?”

“The British are smarter than I thought,” You breathe out, standing up and looking around for a ladder to climb to get to higher ground before anyone spots you. You go farther into the alley and find an old, rusty ladder with rungs that look like they’d snap if someone sneezed on them too hard—perfect for climbing up.

You wrinkle your nose as your hand makes contact with one of the rungs but don’t say anything otherwise, instead wordlessly hauling yourself up onto the ladder.

“Reminder that there’s three British people with you, currently,” Ghost’s deadpan tone crackles, his breathing heavy, as you can tell he’s whispering into his mic, “All of which are very smart.”

“I caught you reading the instructions on a box of tea bags the other day, don’t fuckin’ talk right now,” You grumble, slowly climbing up the ladder, hating the creaking noises it makes as you do. It sounds like it’s going to snap at any minute, and you try to go up as fast as you can, but one wrong move and you’ll easily slip, some of the rust that flakes off of the ladder enough to make you slip up.

“They were circles,” Ghost says, exasperated, “I didn’t know if that made a difference.”

“I thought British people were supposed to know everything about tea,” You roll your eyes, putting your hand on the next rusty rung up on the ladder.

“Yeah, L.t,” Soap agrees with you teasingly, the wind hitting his mic, making it obvious that he’s running, “Thought ye Brits were s’possed to ken everything ‘bout tea.”

You laugh quietly to yourself as you finally make it to the top of the building, the top just high enough for you to look at the few soldiers below and hear a majority of their conversations without them noticing you.

You get to the edge of the rooftop and pull the sniper rifle you’d been carrying around off of your back, glad to finally be back in your element rather than trying to get in undercover, and set it up.

You pull the stand out and set it on the edge of the roof, and look through the scope of the rifle, lining it up so that it’s aiming directly at one of the soldier’s heads, specifically the one that was standing directly out of the entrance you originally were meant to try and get into—but doing this didn’t change much.

Regardless of if you got in or not, he would’ve died, and the others would’ve gotten in too. You getting in first was just meant to make it more efficient.

You press down on the PTT button on your earpiece as you look through the scope of your sniper rifle, keeping the aim on the soldier in front of the entrance, “The guy in front of the entrance is just standing still, so whenever you need me to, I can shoot ‘im down.”

“I don’t think we need to get in just yet,” Price hums, “But maybe in a minute.” “M’kay,” You hum, taking your eye away from the scope, instead just looking over at the enemy soldiers. You lay on your stomach, leaning your head down a bit to try and listen in on the enemy’s conversations easier, trying your best not to make yourself too obvious.

The conversations were pretty boring and almost the same for every soldier you’d eavesdropped on, for the most part. Enemy soldiers joking around, talking about what they’ll do once they’re on leave—like they would be able to do that after you completed your assignment—and just some general team camaraderie.

The lackluster subjects of their conversations weren’t bad at all, no, in fact, you could care less what they talk about.

It was their stupid accents you hated.

Are you surrounded by British people everyday? Yes. Does that stop you from hating on the British everyday? No. Okay, maybe the accents aren’t stupid, but God, they had the thickest cockney accents you’d heard in your entire life, and it was making your eavesdropping so much harder, and had almost been the reason you were given away earlier.

They used slang words that you’re certain you’ve never heard before in your life, and used analogies that didn’t even make sense—you heard one of them use the words, verbatim, ‘Don’t get stroppy’. Stroppy? Stroppy?

You narrow your eyes down at the soldiers below you, listening to a conversation they’d just started up.

“—eah, ‘cause he can’t be arsed to do anything about it, so now we have to camp out here and wait for somethin’ to happen,” One of the soldiers scoffs, “I’m telling you, man, if I see that skull-masked bloke runnin’ ‘round out here, I’m legging it from ‘im immediately.”

You draw your eyebrows together in confusion, but you stay silent for now. Isn’t that exactly what the other soldier said? Are they like a hive mind or something?

“You’re legging it?” The other soldier asked, sounding almost incredulous, “What happened to you chattin’ to some of the others about your loyalty and what not?” “All that’s irrelevant when the fuckin’ grim reaper rolls around and starts murkin’ people like he’s been doing for the entirety we’ve been here, mate,” The first soldier laughs, “You think I wanna be here when he does that?”

“Don’t act like a prat about it, man—fuckin’ talking’ like you can outrun him.” “A prat? I’m not—” You tune out the rest of their argument and instead try and figure out what they were saying.

A prat? Legging it? Can’t be arsed? What the fuck? You push the PTT button on your earpiece and as quietly as you can, you ask, “I need some help. Serious help. Life or death situation.” Immediately, Price’s voice rings through, “What? What is it? What happened?” “The soldiers are British and I can’t tell what they’re saying,” You answer, ignoring Price’s relieved sigh on his end, “I need help.” “Jesus, fuck, don’t scare me like that,” Price sighs, taking a few breaths before continuing, “Alright, what do you need help with?”

“Figuring out what they’re saying.” This time, you hear Gaz’s voice crackle through, “Well, you’ve got three British people here—tell us what he’s saying.”

“One of the guys was talking about ‘legging it’ if he saw Ghost heading towards him, and talked about Ghost ‘murking’ people, and then the other guy he was talking to told him he was being a ‘prat’ about it and he got all offended,” You eloquently say into the earpiece, watching as the argument gets a little more heated. You can hear an amused huff from Ghost on his end and a scoff from Soap in return.

“They’re just saying they’re gonna run away if they see Ghost because he’s been killing a lot of their soldiers, and the other guy said he was being a prat, which I guess is like…” Gaz pauses to think of how to explain the slang term before settling on, “Someone who’s kind of full of themselves, I guess. Or ignorant. Either or.”

“They couldn’t just say that?” You muse quietly, still staring down at the enemy soldiers.

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that,” Price’s voice cuts through, “Go ahead and shoot the guy down. I’m ready to head in.”

“Got it,” You hum, quickly putting your eye back up to your scope and readjusting it a bit before quietly warning, “Shooting him now.”

You pull the trigger and the enemy goes down immediately, and through your scope you can see the small twitching of his body as the other soldier starts to freak out.

You quickly aim the gun at his still-alive friend and shoot him down as well, silently congratulating yourself on your good aim and continuing to look through the scope, watching as Price runs in with Gaz and a few other soldiers.

They struggle with the door for a moment and you sigh before pressing in the PTT button on your earpiece and quietly saying, “Price, Gaz, move away from the door for a sec.”

Wordlessly, they do as they’re told, and you take the opportunity to line up the gun’s aim with the complex electronic panel on the outside of the door and pull the trigger, shooting the most crucial part of the panel, causing it’s functions to disrupt and as a result, the doors open.

“Thanks for that,” Gaz breathes out as Price kicks open the door, his voice cut off a bit at the end as he takes his hand off the PTT button too quickly in order to follow after Price.

“Uh huh. Of course,” You say offhandedly, taking your eye away from the scope of your sniper rifle and listening to the loud sirens go off in the facility the others break into, and push yourself up so that you can sit up straight to properly watch it. You grunt as you sit up, stretching your arms out for a moment before letting them fall into your lap.

“Are they in?” Soap asks, curious, his voice a little strained and breathy. There’s no loud gusts of wind coming through his mic anymore, and you look around for a moment, before your eyes catch on to him climbing up a ladder to get to the rooftop adjacent to yours.

Your lips twitch into a smile at the sight of him completely clueless to your presence and you press your PTT button to talk.

“Yeah, they’re in,” You say, watching as he finally gets to the rooftop, “Didn’t you hear the sirens?”

You can see Soap’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion for a moment, and he looks around for a moment before finally seeing you on the rooftop directly next to his, and he looks surprised for a moment before a grin splits across his face. You see him press the PTT button on his mic as well.

“I did, yeah, just wanted tae be sure,” He says into his mic, looking right at you as he does, “It’s a surprise seeing you here.”

“Imagine how I feel,” You muse, almost to yourself, before looking away from Soap and speaking up, “Ghost, you don’t wanna join us on the rooftops?”

“Absolutely not,” He replies almost immediately, making you huff out a small laugh and Soap’s grin grow, “I’m perfectly fine on the ground.”

“Where are you?” You ask, scanning the area around you for Ghost, “I feel like I haven’t seen you this whole time.”

“I’m just behind the facility,” Ghost hums, voice still a low whisper, “I’m gonna be heading in once Gaz and Price make it to the second floor to clean up the first, in case there’s anyone left.”

“You’ve been behind the facility this whole time?” Soap’s voice cuts through, surprised by the fact.

“Mhm,” Ghost hums.

“It’s a bit boring back there, innit?” Gaz’s voice crackles through, his voice a little breathy, “You can sweep the first floor, by the way. Should be nobody left, though. Pretty sure all the soldiers were just faffing around, not doing much.”

“Fucking faffing around?” You ask incredulously to yourself, though apparently your voice is loud enough to make Soap chuckle.

As if he can read your mind, Price’s voice comes through, “Faffing around is just doing nothing or doing nothing particularly productive, [c/n].”

You sigh and push your PTT button this time, talking into your mic, “You couldn’t just say that, Gaz? You had to say something silly like faffing around?”

“It’s not silly,” Gaz says, his frown audible, “They were faffing around.”

“Jesus, fuck,” You breathe out, laughing lightly, “It’s totally silly.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yeah it is.”

“No it’s—”

“I just want one day where you two don’t start up stupid arguments like this,” Price’s tired sigh comes through, “Just one day, I beg of you both.”

“Aw, Captain, we were just faffing around,” You whine playfully, the misuse of the slang making Soap cover his mouth with his hand to muffle his laughter and you hear Ghost groan into his mic.

“That is absolutely not how you use that,” Gaz says, though you can hear some laughter in his voice—from your very non-British accent saying British phrases, you presume, a small grin gracing your lips at the thought.

“It sounded natural to me,” You lie straight through your teeth, shrugging even though only Soap can see you.

“You’re insufferable,” Gaz groans, making you laugh quietly, “Never use British slang again, please.”

“What if I get a British accent? Will that fix it?”

“Nothing can fix what you’ve said today, [c/n].”

“Well that’s dramatic,” You scoff, “I’ll learn British just for you guys.”

“Holy shit, please stop talking,” Price’s exasperated voice interrupts the both of you, “You’re both insufferable. Drop it.”

“… I don’t think I will,” You say defiantly, making all three British people in the same voice channel as you groan in unison, the sound sounding like some sort of middle school choir trying to sing in harmony, “I’ll use Duolingo or something to learn it.”

“British isn’t a language you learn, you muppet,” Price grumbles, making you snort.

“Muppet?”

“It’s someone who’s dumb and clueless and can’t take a hint, like you,” Ghost defines, “And Soap, most of the time.”

“Daen’t go draggin’ mae into this,” Soap’s voice quickly cuts through, “I haven’t said onything.”

“Uh, yes you absolutely did, earlier, remember?” Gaz argues, ignoring Price’s protests for him to stop arguing, “About Ghost being stupid with the tea thing?”

“Oh, I’ll have you all know—”

“Ghost, don’t start—”

You listen as the once casual, teasing conversation turns into an argument and chuckle quietly to yourself, knowing that they’d be arguing about this until you all finished your assignment.

1K notes · View notes

messylustt · 10 months

Note

am on my knees for jealous/possessive!Hobie x reader? maybe he’s a lil mean at first but by the end he’s very soft 🥺 <3

god I have a weakness for possessive and clingy men— shit

JEALOUS BOY — hobie brown + reader: hobie is a little jealous over the new recruit and how nice you’re being with him.

marks jealous!hobie; kinda bad representation of his iconic accent; poor new peter :( cute lil kiss and confession. wc 1.7k.

Hobie’s gaze was narrowed, the most focused he thinks he’s been, as he watches you speak with the new recruit. You’re smiling at something he’s said, as you then begin to laugh. Stop laughing. Not for him.

Hobie swiftly moves towards you both, swinging his arm over your shoulder as you turn your head. “Hey, babe.” He grins, seeing your small smile.

But you shrug him off, gesturing to the new recruit. “Peter, Hobie.” You gesture from Hobie. “Hobie, Peter.”

“So, another one ov’ ya.” Hobie eyes this new Peter, with a harder gaze.

“Oh, so this is Hobie?” New Peter says, making Hobie shift his gaze to you.

“Ya talked ‘bout me?” Hobie spares you a side smile, as he bumps your shoulder.

“I said like one thing.” You scoff, crossing your arms.

“Mhm, what?” Hobie felt a little calmer after hearing that he was mentioned in your conversation. You look away, shaking your head. “Aw…ya goin’ all shy now?” He fake pouts, poking your side.

You slightly jolt, shifting your gaze to him. “I only said how loud your guitar can be. And that Peter should be wary of it.” You say, walking closer to said Peter. “Come on, I’ll show you to Spider-byte, she’s knows a shit tonne bout this place…” your voice drifted off as you brought new Peter down the path.

Hobie’s smile had dropped when you began walking away from him. But he focuses on the fact that new Peter will be gone from your side once the walk around was over. He held onto that fact.

;;

Which turned into not a fact at all. Because when he knew that your little tour would be over he still saw new Peter by your side. Oh no, no. Hobie didn’t like that one bit. So he yet again finds himself by your side, snatching some food off your plate, as he fluidly swings one leg over the bench.

“So, I take it you two are friends?” New Peter asks, shifting his gaze between you and Hobie.

“Eh.” You shrug, to which Hobie grabs your wrist—which held the food you were gonna put in your mouth—as he brings it to his mouth instead. “Hey!” But he keeps your wrist close as his lip ring slightly brushes the tips of your fingers, eating the entire thing, as he leans back, raising his brows.

“Don’t say ‘eh’.” He imitates you, hooking his arm back around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him—his legs still spread over the bench, meaning that your side ended up right against his chest. He looks back to new Peter, making his arm over your body a clear statement to him. “Yeah, we’re friends.”

New Peter finally notices Hobie’s hard expression, as his smile slightly drops, but then you’re directing his attention back to you. “And he’s an annoying little British boy. Trust me.”

Hobie shifts his gaze back to you, grabbing your chin to look at him. “‘Lil Bri’ish boy’?” He quotes in disbelief.

“Annoying little British boy.” You correct, managing to slide back across the bench and out of his grasp. “So, make sure not to get caught up in his web.” You chuckle, as new Peter joins, looking back to you.

“Ya makin’ me sound like a spide—oh.” Hobie realises, giving you a look. “Ya real funny, babe.”

You give him a teasing smile, as you continue to eat, going back to your conversation with the new Peter. God, would you stop talking to him? It wasn’t required anymore, so why were you? Did you like him? Hobie hoped you didn’t plan to make a new friend. And certainly not make something more.

;;

It happened again. You were with him again. Hobie watched as you stood beside new Peter, talking again.

You were all there for a mission debrief. But that didn’t mean you had to stand so close. Hobie promptly reaches you, jaw clenched as he caught new Peter’s gaze. “New Peter, hey man. How’s ya first few days been?” Hobie’s words a sickly sweet, making new Peter gulp.

“His name’s just Peter.” You say, glancing at Hobie who stands right beside you. Hobie shifts his gaze to you, in slight disbelief. Oh, so you were defending him now.

“It’s okay, and I’m pretty good, thanks Hobes.” New Peter smiled, all innocent.

“Only she can call me that, mate.” Hobie states, gesturing to you, as he yet again eyes him with disdain.

“Hobie.” You quietly hiss. “Sorry, Peter. Clearly a rough day.” You glance at Hobie with narrowed eyes. He narrows his back. “What—ya switch names? He can call me ‘Hobie’, and you…” he gently tapped your shoulder. “…you can call me ‘hobes’.”

You sigh, grabbing Hobie’s arm, as you spare new peter a small smile. Hobie let’s you drag him away, as you spin, arms crossed.

“I told him it was fine. I’m sorry, I thought you wouldn’t have minded.” You say, glancing back at new Peter, but Hobie quickly brings your head back to face him. Stop looking at him—he thinks to himself.

“Why?”

“Oh come on, he’s new.” You say. “I thought he could use some friends. And you’ve always been very welcoming. You were with me.”

“Yeah, but you’re…you.” Hobie glances over at new Peter who does look a tad nervous as he listens to the debrief. “And come on…him?”

“Yes, him.” You say. “Where’d nice Hobie go?”

“He’s gone.” He says, looking back to you. “If ya keep takin’ to him, tha’ is.”

“Hobie what’s your problem with him?”

“Is it really that hard not talkin’ to him?” Hobie crosses his arms, raising his brow.

“Again…” you sigh. “What’s your problem?”

“No problem.” Hobie shrugs. “Just don’t talk to him. That simple.”

“You’re missing the reason there, Hobes.” You say, with a raise to your own brows.

He slightly smiles, a slight tilt to his head. “At least that means you’re not mad at me.”

“What? Yes I am.” You narrow your gaze, just as Hobie lazily swings his arms atop your shoulders, moving closer to do so as he leans towards your height.

“Nah. Ya called me ‘hobes’.” He’s grinning now.

You scoff. “I can say ‘hobes’ and still be mad at you. Also when were you ever so caught up on names?”

“When you started talking to Mr. Basic over there.” He glances at new Peter. You hit Hobie’s stomach, making him slightly double over.

“Stop being an ass.” You begin to walk back over to new Peter, but Hobie swiftly wraps his arms around your neck and shoulders, your back hitting his front, making you slightly jolt.

“Nah…” Hobie says to your ear, making a small shiver run down your spine. “You can stay with me this mission.”

“You’re not even in this mission.” You say, as his hands begins to fiddle with the material of your suit, arms still wrapped around you. “And when did you get so clingy?”

“Clingy?” Hobie scoffs. “I’m not being clingy.”

“Then why are you draped over me like some sort of koala?” You ask, reaching to pull him off you.

“What was tha’ thing ya said before?” Hobie keeps you close. “Trapped in my web?”

You lick your teeth in slight annoyance as he just smirks. “Just making it clear you’re trapped.”

“Ha you’re funny.” Your sarcasm is clear.

“I know I am. Now come on.” Hobie slides his hand down to yours, grabbing it and bringing you towards the new opened portal.

;;

“God he’s insufferable.” Hobie states. You had just finished your mission, and are both walking through the lobby.

“I really can’t find the reason why you’re so annoyed. It’s making me annoyed.” You say, brushing some dirt off your thigh.

Hobie looks down, moving your hand away so he can pick the rest off. You eye him. “Is this a dare or something?”

Hobie looks back up at you. “What?”

“Being this touchy and stuff.” You say. “I mean you’ve always been one to throw your arms round someone’s shoulders. But not all this.” You raise your brows, expecting an answer.

He just shrugs. “I like you.”

“Your reasons are vague as hell, hobes.” You say, poking his chest slightly. But as you do so, Hobie grabs your hand, yanking you closer.

“I…like…you.” He says this slower, making you meet his gaze. “And new Peter is in my way.”

“What?” Your brows furrow as you stare at him.

“You keep talkin’ to him.” Hobie further says, as you try and wrap your mind around the implications of his words.

“You’re making it sound like i can’t talk to anyone.” You force a chuckle, making sure this isn’t some sort of prank.

Hobie just holds your hand tighter as his gaze darts across your face, for once—serious. “If they look like they like you…no.”

“I…” you drift off, cause you don’t really know what you were gonna say. “Peter doesn’t like me.”

“You sure?” Hobie asks, and finally the whole situation clicks, all your denials fizzling away. Hobie like likes you. You stare at Hobie, mouth slightly opening.

“You…like me?” You slowly ask.

“I thought I already said tha’?” Hobie can’t help his little side smile from appearing at your cute shocked expression. “I thought I was bein’ painfully obvious too. I guess there isn’t much goin’ on in that pretty head o’ yours.” He taps under your chin, with a teasing tone.

You press your lips together, praying you’re not looking flushed. But of course Hobie notices. “Look at ya…ya all shy.” He brings you closer. “It’s cute.”

Then your gaze is dropping down to his lips, back and forth as your heart beats a fraction harder. Then before you can chicken out, you quickly reach forward and peck his lips.

Hobie blinks as you back away, moving to speed walk away. But then Hobie is smiling, effortlessly pulling you back as his lips find yours, this time a little longer, a little harder. His lip ring sends shivers through you as it contrasts with his warm tongue, eagerly exploring your mouth.

His hands have slipped to cup your neck and face, as he began to smile against your lips. You manage to slightly lean your head back. “You were jealous…” You say, an almost smug smile forming.

“Don’ start.” Hobie mutters, bringing your lips back to his.

2K notes · View notes

miguelhugger2099 · 3 months

Text

Little Miguel, Big Miguel (Pt. 2)

Summary: Miggy meets a few people and he finally grabs the chance to speak with you again. Previous This chapter was so hard to write oml Art in the middle by LBY2K99 Miguel x GN!Reader, fluff, lowkey crack, not proofread at all, Word Count: 3, 106

Eventually Miggy and Jess walked through the entrance of the cafeteria, the threshold being much larger than he expected with various spiders on high beams or on a string of web. Others were normal and sitting at the many tables and booths the place had provided.

Was that a T-Rex?

“You hungry?” She peered down at him after walking in front of a counter. Miggy shrugged despite his stomach growling.

“I could eat,” He huffed when Jess shoved a tray in his hand, a burger that had his variant’s mask plastered on the bun. His eyebrows raised in surprise. “Huh. A little more conceited than I thought.” He mumbled to himself.

“Hi, guys!” Jess walked past and called out to a group of people sitting at a booth. They all turned and greeted her back before all of their eyes landed on Miggy. He squirmed slightly as Jess walked in front of him and Miggy followed hesitantly behind.

“Bloody hell. Did the boss shrink? That's jokes.” One smirks, chuckling to himself, his voice smooth and deep that melted nicely with his British accent.

The other three are slack jawed, not believing what they’re eyes.

“Did he shrink?!” One with a blue headband gasps.

“No, Miguel didn’t shrink,” Jess rolled her eyes. “This is our new recruit, Miguel, obv–obviously. He's getting used to the place so,” Her hand stretches out to list their names. “Hobie, Pavitr, Miles and Gwen.”

“Is no one finding this strange?” A teenager that looked a little older than him spoke out, his suit completely black except for the red stripes running down his arms. Miles, Miggy made sure to remember. “It's Miguel but…pocket sized.” The girl next to him softly smacks his chest with a warning look.

“He's a kid, Miles. We've met other variants of ourselves before so this shouldn't be different.” Her eyebrows furrowed and the metal piercing by her right glinted underneath the fluorescent lights. Gwen.

Miles pouted. “At least my variant was the same age.” He mumbled under his breath.

Gwen smiles. “Nice to meet you, Miguel.”

“Ah–actually. You guys can call him Miggy or anything other than Miguel. Just to avoid confusion for the time being.” Jess intervenes awkwardly, helping Miggy into a seat by Miles and Gwen. All of them give their own greetings, welcoming Miggy in despite the strangeness of seeing a more timid and kid version of the man in charge.

“Qué tal?” Miles leans back in his chair.

Miggy brightens up. “Hablas español?” He asks Miles. Miles sits up, wide eyed and suddenly nervous.

“Y-yeah, I know un–un poquitito, y'know.” There was still a bit of an accent but Miggy didn't mind, simply chuckling and nodding, subconsciously showing off his sharp fangs when taking a bite of his burger.

“Woah, were those fangs?” Pavitr leans over the table to take a closer look. Miggy leans back. “Are they retractable too?”

“Uh, no. It’s–it’s just like that.” Miggy chuckled awkwardly after swallowing.

“How long you been Spider-Man for?” Miles asks and turns to him.

“Ah…almost a year, pretty sure.” He kept eating, taking another few bites.

“Are you on rapture?” Hobie tilts his head with a raise of his eyebrow, almost with a hint of concern in his eyes.

Bug-eyed and jaw slacked, Miggy snaps his head to Hobie, nearly choking on himself. “No!” He sputtered while Hobie nodded and leaned back as he relaxed. “Shock, what is wrong with you guys?” He wheezed out.

Pavitr laughs. “I like this new little boss.”

“He don’t got a stick up his arse, that’s for sure. Makes him ten times better than the geezer.” Hobie plays with his bottom lip ring.

“Be nice.” Jess warns with her arms crossed.

“I am nice. That was my nicest, actually.”

Jess’s phone pings in her pocket and she checks her alarm. “Shoot. I need to go. Miggy,” He turns his head to her. “We’ll have to finish orientation another time. I gotta head home. Guys, if you could just keep an eye on him till the end of the day?”

The group of young spiders nod up at her, all responding with their own variations of responses. Jess gives a lingering look to the group, eyeing them down to make sure she can trust them. Deeming them good kids, she sighs and waves, walking away to open a portal back to her dimension. Miggy shrinks in his seat, now being with semi-strangers and the only person he kinda knew in this place, left.

After she leaves, all of them begin to ask more questions like how old he was, if their Miguel’s universe was similar to his universe, etc, etc. Miggy tried his best to answer ease their curiosity with a gentle yet nervous smile. It had been a while since so many people have been kind to him.

Gwen mentions your name after thinking for a moment. “Do you think they know about him?” Miggy’s ear perks up at the mention of you. Where were you anyway? Did you leave? He wanted to see you again.

“Not if Miguel allows it. I can see him getting mad about this.” Pavitr rests his chin in his palm.

“Be a bit freaky if I were to see ‘em together anyway. Since they’re always around the big man.” Hobie crosses his arms on the table.

“I don’t think it’d be freaky. Everyone’s making a big deal about this.” Gwen frowns. Miggy droned out their talking, his eyes searching side to side to find and exit. Don’t get him wrong, these are nice people and he can see himself being friends with them, he just…really needed to see you.

Or maybe it was an excuse to escape their gossiping while in front of him.

Miggy slipped from his seat and escaped the flurry of whatever the hell they were saying while they chatted amongst themselves. He used his webs to swing himself to the ceiling with a small fwizz coming from his wrists. His claws poked out, clutching onto the metal as he crawled away, avoiding Spider-Monkey and out of the threshold. He failed to notice a pair of eyes watching his exit.

He hopped off the wall and landed on one of the many beams the building provided. Miggy took a few glances around him to make sure no one could bother him when he lifted his wrist to his face. He hesitantly raises a finger to the screen. Even though it looked like his universe tech, he still had no clue how it operated. Deciding not to break it accidentally, he brought it close to his lips. “Hey, miss…AI lady, ma’am?” He whispers to the watch.

Lyla suddenly popped up on top of the screen, her holographic body standing in front of many tiny floating monitors. Miggy yelped, covering his mouth with his other hand.

“What’s up little boss? Got a question? And no, you’re not allowed on any mission. You’re on babysitter protocol.” Lyla didn’t look up at him, choosing to look at each file and trashing the ones she deemed unimportant.

“Babysitter?” Miggy scrunched up his face in disdain.

She yawned. “Big boss doesn’t want you out and about to other universes yet. Sorry, kid. Now if you’ll excuse me–”

“Wait, wait! No! That’s–that’s not what I was gonna ask.” He panicked, gripping the watch with his hand. Lyla’s heart sunglasses slid down her nose as she turned her head over her shoulder to face him. “I was just gonna ask about…” He saw your form leave Miguel’s corridor before bumping into another spider person he didn’t recognize for a quick chat. He felt his little heart speed up and smiled. “...them.”

Miggy and Lyla both peered down to watch you smile and laugh with the other spider-man. Miggy noticed a redhead baby in his arms. Lyla glanced at him, back to you and then back to him. She stood up straight and crossed her arms after sliding her shades back on her nose bridge. “Oh, they’re way too old for you, kid.” Miggy frowned at the holographic lady. You had finished talking with whoever that was and waved him and the baby goodbye. Miggy’s heart raced as he prepared himself to jump off the beam.

“Whatever, pequeñita. Don’t need your help anymore. Catch a virus or something.” Miggy grinned mischievously down at her while Lyla gasped in shock.

“Hey–!”

Miggy switched her off and quickly used his webs to stick to the ceiling and swung down behind you, landing on his feet with a quiet thump. Hearing that sound, you turned around to check to see Miggy had stood up on his feet with a toothy smile. The sides of his hair had fallen out of place and he tucked it behind his ear as he walked up to you.

“Hey.” He placed his hands on his hips and puffed up his chest to appear more muscular. You huffed a small laugh, crossing your arms and tilting your head as you looked at him.

“Hi there. I didn’t think we’d meet again so soon.” You decided to amuse him. Miggy shrugged.

“Guess it was fate,” You snorted but Miggy continued anyway. “I was wondering if you had time for a chat? This is your universe I'm assuming? You could show me around the city. Maybe grab a snack together.” He grinned, looking at you with an innocent expression. But you knew better. Miguel would try the same thing in his own version once in a while.

“Uh-huh, yeah, right. Where’s Jess?” You placed your hands on your hips. Miggy stiffened but recollected himself.

“Busy.” He said, technically not lying.

“Sure,” You dragged out. “Well, I thought you came from a similar universe. I don’t think there’d be much new stuff to show you, kid.” You give him a playful pointed look with a tilt of your head. Miggy tsked, poking his cheek with his tongue in annoyance. He didn’t like you thinking he was just some kid. He was more than that, he’d prove it!

“Well, I beg to differ. I’m naturally curious, y’know. It’s one of my charms so I’d like to see if you’re right.”

“So you don’t believe me?” You raised your eyebrow.

Miggy hummed in thought, looking off to the side. “Not at all. Just a test.” He grinned.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Alright, I’m not doing that,” Miggy’s face dropped. “But I am just heading home really quick and then coming back here. So, if you want, you can join me.” You offered and his face brightened up.

“Yeah! Yeah–sure, sure. That I can totally do.”

“Great. It’s actually not far from here so we could just walk to—”

“Woah, woah, woah. Walk? If you hadn’t noticed, I’m Spider-Man.” Miggy gestured to himself with a smug smirk, but your face didn’t falter.

“I see that.”

Miggy pouted. “I can carry you.”

You waved him off. “That’s really not necessary. I know you’re strong but–” You yelped as you felt Miggy grab your waist and pull your close. The height difference was a little awkward but he didn’t seem to mind one bit. He wanted to prove to you he was capable and strong. His webs shot out and stuck to the walls, swinging the both of you around while he tried finding an exit with a determined look. You wrapped your arms around him, hoping to the universe that you wouldn’t fall, and he felt his heart race a little faster.

“Directions, please!” He exclaimed, a smile in his voice while you screwed your eyes shut. You eventually felt the wind in your hair and the far away sounds of hover cars zipping past. “That’s new!” He dodged the cars with stealth, clutching you tighter to him.

Your legs became shaky and as soon as your feet touched the ground of your patio, you fell to your hands and knees with a giant huff. Miggy landed beside you, letting you take a breather.

“Estas bien?” He asked gently, his voice much softer than the persona he tried to maintain. He knelt by your side, hugging his knees to his chest.

“Fine, fine. Just…don’t do that again.” You helped yourself up and walked inside after opening the glass door. Miggy followed behind you, slightly embarrassed. He glanced around the area, seeing a void of color all around. Simple grays, blacks, and whites as the palette for couches, walls and the like. It was super different compared to back home. His mom usually did the decorations. Miggy thought this room felt very cold.

“This is your home?” He asked, feeling like this was a stark difference from your personality.

“Yeah, well kind of. I live here with someone.” You reply, rummaging through some things in a different room. Miggy perked up, his lips turning downward and feeling jealous.

“Who?” He asked, looking around to see if he could find anything that showed two people lived here.

You didn’t respond. Maybe you didn’t hear him, maybe you did. Miggy was distracted anyway as he walked slowly around the living room. In the corner of his eye, he saw a box that was out of place on one of the selves by the giant holographic TV. He strolled towards it, its dark purple color being the only thing attracting him.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go around touching things.” Your voice was heard behind him, making Miggy jump. He took a big step away from the box, becoming more curious but he respected you enough. “I thought you would’ve had enough manners to not go snooping in someone's home.” You tossed him a soda and he caught it, seeing that the name brand was slightly spelled different from his own dimension. He found it a little unsettling; still getting accustomed to everything.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, popping open the can with his talon. “What did you get?”

You shrugged. “Some things to help out the society.” You walked towards the couch and sat on the far right to rest yourself on the armrest. “Just give me a minute and we’ll head back.”

Miggy nodded along, shifting his weight from side to side. “What…are you to the society?” He asked quietly, almost afraid he’d offend you.

“What do you mean?” You looked over at him, patting the side next to you to offer him a seat. Miggy walked over and sat by you, a little farther than what you offered.

“Like…you’re clearly not a spider person, much less some powers, but yet you’re in the society. You know all those people yet you’re…a civilian?” You nodded.

“Yeah, I’m just a regular person. I can’t climb walls or shoot webs but…I think I have a right to be there.”

“You said you were special. What does that mean?” He peeked over at you, his soda faintly fizzing.

You avoided his question. “How about you tell me about yourself instead?”

Miggy tilted his head. “Me?” He asked. “But…I don’t think I’m much different from your ‘other me’.”

You waved him off. “I’m sure there’s some difference. C’mon, don’t be shy. I wanna know about the newbie.” You cross your legs and turn to face him.

Miggy looked apprehensive, not really sure if it’s the right time to spill his life story but you asked so he caved in.

“Well, I was bitten trying to save my, uh, bully.” He looked down at his drink and took a small sip. Your smile dropped.

“You were bullied?”

Miggy nodded. “Well, yeah. It, uh… didn’t end well,” He rubs the side of the can. “There was this huge explosion when checking out the spiders in Alchemax– my dad used to work there,” He doesn’t look up at you. “My dad’s boss and his kid were there. His son bullied me, sure, but when that explosion happened, somewhere in between I got bit and…I dunno,” He sighed, a clear heavy weight on his young shoulders. “Kron was there and I tried–I did– and I don’t even know why I did but he still…y’know.” He shrugged his shoulders. “It’s fine. I mean, it’s not fine but even though he died, he bullied me. But it doesn’t mean he should’ve passed, y’know? Then I woke up and they said my dad died too so it was all confusing back then.” He leaned back on the couch with a heavy sigh.

“I’m…so sorry,” You apologized grimly, guilt eating you up for asking. Miggy looked over at you and gave you a reassuring smile, his fringe falling out of place.

“It’s fine. It happened a while ago. The feeling is still there, just a little less. You didn’t hurt me, promise.” He then chugged the rest of the soda down his throat, feeling the fizz bubble down to his stomach. He crushed the can right after, his talons digging into it and showed you the marks he made. “I got sick powers and I can help my family more now. When they’re in trouble I can just put on the suit and make sure they’re safe.” He beamed with pride and you mirrored the same expression.

“You love your family?” You asked gently, taking the can from his hand and getting up to place it in the recycling bin.

“Mhm!” Miggy nodded. “Since the explosion, we all became a little more tight knit. My mom especially. She became more protective over my little brother since he’s still super little.” He looks up at you as you come back.

“What’s his name?” You hide your smile since you feel you know the answer.

“Gabriel.” Miggy beams. “He’s practically my shadow, which mom doesn’t like. Says I’m too reckless and doesn’t want him to be like me.” He blew raspberries to signify his mild annoyance at the thought.

You laugh and grab a backpack full of things that Miggy assumes were the things you came to collect. “After you swung me around, I think I agree with her.” You joked.

Miggy shot up from his seat and pouted. “Not cool.” But he enjoyed the way you smiled. “Gonna head back out now?”

Nodding, you slip the backpack on and walk with him back to the balcony. “Yup. Whenever you’re ready.” You look at him expectantly. He went a little wide eyed.

“You want me to swing us back?” Lost on why when you screamed earlier.

“Well, I’m prepared this time.” You and Miggy smiled at one another and he looped his arm around your middle. Your hands around his neck and he stuck his web to a building, jumping off the balcony and swinging back to HQ.

A/N: Please forgive me for this mid chapter i'll try to make the next one better i promise

{Taglist 🏷

@sassypotatomoosee @ihavemanyhusbandfandoms @arrozconpepitoria @nanarain @autismsupermusicalassassin @amberpanda99 @huniedeux @oharasfilipinawife @m0stergirl @maimedloveaffairs @glassracecar @lazy-idate @peachipeachy @palesatan @sleepingghoule444 @lizaistewdelulu @cicithemess @amelialysm @keigoloveminty @tatatida @peachyrue-777 }

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099

396 notes · View notes

mockerycrow · 1 year

Note

hii! i love the way you describe the 141 so far, and i would love to see how you would write an konig, ghost, soap, price and alejandro reaction and headcanons with a s/o who has an accent?

i taught myself english from a young age so i never really had someone to practice with, so my accent is very strong (im from south america, which also helps lol) and i would like to see how the cod boys can react to this in your style <33

Reader With An Accent - MWII

GIF BY: @collinnmckinley - masterlist

A/N: thank you so much for your patience and thank you for liking my writing!! please let me know if i executed this right!! i am american and i don’t want to misrepresent. also this is lowkey coded for people w/ accents from non-english speaking countries, so sorry everyone who is from a english speaking country and has an accent oops — i also kinda took your “i taught myself english from a young age” for alejandro’s chunk. hope that’s ok!

König

König wouldn’t react to your accent very much, unless it’s a very thick accent because then he would have trouble understanding you.

If your accent is thick, he probably asks you repeat yourself a couple of times; English isn’t his first language either, so I can imagine maybe a couple of times you both sit there in silence with each other because neither of you guys can understand each other. He has a semi-thick accent, too.

Sometimes, he does understand you but he just wants to hear you continue to talk.

Maybe König and you practice English together, while teaching each other your native languages on accident. You guys didn’t mean to, but you end up trying to explain what a word is in your different languages and by the end of it, you begin to understand full sentences in german; the same for him with your language.

He considers this a bonding experience :)

Ghost

Like König, he probably wouldn’t react to your accent too much unless it was incredibly thick. Ghost has met all different types of people and his native language is English, so he has a better understanding of what you’re trying to say, but he pokes fun at you like he pokes fun at Soap.

On the topic of Soap, you two together is his worst nightmare.

“Speak English.” Is his favorite phrase when you are speaking English, but your accent is just overpowering literally everything.

You like to throw his words back into his face when he says some sort of British slang—you get a surprisingly loud chuckle out of him when you pick up some of his slang. He thinks it’s funny whenever anyone who isn’t British begins to talk like him.

If Ghost isn’t already fluent in your language, he pretty much becomes damn near fluent by the time you’ve known him for a good couple of months. He picks this stuff up easily.

Soap

Oh, this would be actual hell on Earth. Not for you two, but for the others.

Soap doesn’t comment on your accent initially, but you two begin to share a brain cell and a half (on accident) when Ghost’s eyes show visible frustration.

“He can barely understand me, the two of’us will be a real party trick!”

You and Soap gang up on everyone else if your accent is thick. He understands the frustration of people not understanding you.

Sometimes it takes Soap a moment to process what you’re saying, but he only asks you to repeat yourself a couple of times. (He has a good method of deciphering words, even if he cannot understand through an accent).

Soap likes to teach you his Scot phrases and you teach him your own in return.

Price

He gives you an eyebrow raise as a reaction, but that’s about it. Price has worked with so many people all over the world, he doesn’t really care to comment on your accent.

Price has gotten pretty good at understanding thick accents through the years, so he probably only asks you to slow your speaking when giving him a verbal report about something.

Price 100% is the type to accidentally pronounce something wrong but say it with full confidence and you always correct him, leaving him dumbfounded.

“My lips just don’t move that way, love.”

It’s likely he’s fluent in your language so he doesn’t mind if you talk to him in it; just give him a few seconds to translate in his head, okay?

Alejandro

If you meet outside of a total progressional setting, he probably has the most reaction to your accent out of anyone.

Alejandro’s language is a very big part of him so he assumes it’s the same for anyone else.

Alejandro doesn’t have an incredibly thick accent, but he knows people who do and he’s known them for years, so it’s easier for him to understand than a lot of other people.

If you taught yourself English and you end up pronouncing something wrong, Alejandro casually corrects you to help you out. He doesn’t make a big deal out of it either, he knows sometimes people get embarrassed from it. His first language isn’t English either, so he understands the struggle.

He DOES start laughing if you try to pronounce something that you so clearly cannot, even after being corrected.

2K notes · View notes

saintslewis · 5 months

Text

❝ 𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐘 - 𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 🪩 ❞ - 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem!oc; Nadia

summary: most of the social media post made throughout the miami gp weekend!

warning: twitter environment (you know the deal), cussing.

saint’s team radio: hi everyone! just wanted to give y’all a little something something before releasing ‘break my soul’ ! i’m a bit sick rn but i will get back into my groove very very soon 🤭

dividers by: @cafekitsune

pls like, comment and reblog! 🫶🏽

taglist: @queenshikongo3 @mauvecherie-writes @httpsserene @lorarri @goldenalbon @yeea-nah @non-stop-imagines (lmk if you want to be tagged!)

twitter

instagram

nadiahamilton

liked by lilymhe, badgalriri and 1,383,994 others

nadiahamilton yes i know where he keeps his music and no, i won’t be telling you where 🫶🏽

view comments

nadiahamilton it was sooo nice meeting you guys this weekend 🥹

pinned by author

user i swear you’re his lucky charm

fransisca.cgomes mother ‼️

alexandrasaintmleux and if i ask for your hand in marriage?

nadiahamilton let’s run away

user i fell in love everytime you appeared on screen

user her energy is so refreshing, even if it’s through a tv or phone 😭

user where do you get your clothes???

nadiahamilton i’ll make a highlight for all the stores i shop at 🫶🏽

herstudent i hope school’s open soon, we need the tea!!

nadiahamilton you’ll be getting the pamphlets for the medieval times instead 😚

user his arm…dear lord

nadiahamilton i know, can’t believe it’s wrapped around me rn 🥹

user13 no way she just said that????

yungfilly bestie takin over miami!!

chunkz i think this is where you’re wrong brotha 🤨

niko you’re right, i’m the bestie

nellarose_ YOU’RE ALL WRONG 🤣

nataliatheedon and if i smack your ass, i’m wrong 😔

nadiahamilton bc it really hurt plus you were running behind me????

mercedesamgf1 Mrs Mercedes 🤍

user lewis is washed, never going to get that 8th

nadiahamilton watch your mouth 🙏🏽

lilymhe tinkerbell 🥹

liked by nadiahamilton

user is this a inside joke???? a fun nickname??? we need to know!

sza do you think your man will have a problem if i take you away?

nadiahamilton when and where? 🤭

lewishamilton ???????

hater ad21 was deserved 🤣

nadiahamilton i know where you live 🫶🏽

hater as if

nadiahamilton Glendale right??

hater oh shit

user now how tf did she find that man’s address 😭

user don’t question her mastery 🗣️

lewishamilton my angel 🤍

nadiahamilton my superstar 💗

lewishamilton

liked by bellahadid, charles_leclerc and 3,383,929 others

lewishamilton miami, you’ve been good 🙏🏽

view all comments

nadiahamilton steal my captions why don’t you 🙄

lewishamilton it’s my job 😋

user blonde is so her colour

raye you both are so lovely 🤍

lewishamilton thank you Raye and btw, she’s crying because of this

nadiahamilton DON’T TELL HER OMG????

spinzbeatsinc king and queen of england

nadiahamilton do you want me to get deported??

user just accept your fate guys

user now i need to know if he speaks any south african languages

nadiahamilton he tries to but he says it in a british accent so i end up laughing at him

user mr, does this mean you’re the class dad?

lewishamilton i guess so?

herstudent YEAHHH OUR DAD’S SIR LEWIS HAMILTON!!!

user her face should be trademarked

user how many cars do you think they own together?

f1wags what a woman!

user petition for Nadia to be team principal!

mercedesamgf1 we back this 🫡

hater her tattoos were everywhere and stole the attention off Lewis! She’s so ugly

nadiahamilton never that 🙏🏽

user did you guys see that drake reposted her post?

user wasn’t he friends with lewis at some point???

zendaya see you guys soon 🫶🏽

racerbia mother and father

nadiahamilton my man is so fine y’all damn

user SHE’S SO REAL FOR THIS

nadiahamilton like he looks so delectable, my goat fr 🤭

lewishamilton nads 😧

f1 mother of the paddock ‼️

nadiahamilton pls not while Susie is right there ☹️

badgalriri i hope you do know there’s a group of us planning to take her

iamcardib heard she’s a stylist, need one rn

kehlani i second this !

latto777 if she ever needs flowers, i got her ‼️

nadiahamilton y’all 🥹

lewishamilton can you guys stop planning to take my wife away from me?

user idk, something’s fishy

user yeah bc where the fuck did she come from?

text messages !

♡‧₊ billionaire boys club

miles the fencer 🤺: no way they’re stealing your wife from you in broad daylight?

pookie buddy lewis: pls don’t chat, it’s hurting my spirit rn

princess natalia: let’s talk about nads meeting pharrell (also i’m a genius for naming this gc after his company)

daniel is spinning: her face was just like 😧

nadia: 🧍🏽‍♀️

personal pillow amara: but nads, genuinely, how do you feel after this weekend? it was a big one for you bae

nadia: i do feel like ripping the earth in half and falling in but it’s cool because lew gets me ice cream after 🤭

pookie buddy lewis: i always got your back, nads. you know that. we’ll get ice cream whenever you want

miles the fencer 🤺: GET A FUCKING ROOM OMG

princess natalia: EWWWWW

charlotte (not tilbury): don’t listen to them, this is the cutest shit ever 😭

andrew with the camera: but if i expose miles’ 0.5x photos, i’m wrong.

daniel is spinning: DRAG HIMMMM

personal pillow amara: i’ve taught you way too much danny

miles the fencer 🤺: man whatever 🙄

charlotte (not tilbury): nads, i HAVE to see you in malibu

nadia: ofc, i don’t know what to expect from that place

princess natalia: don’t worry bae, we got you!

ೃ°

The Avengers (niko made this)

chunkz: nads, who’s this boy you’re chatting to? 🤨

filly felipe: “this boy” and it’s lewis hamilton 🤣

sharks: AND they’re married????

nadia: and i was going to invite you lot to my new place and show you my new car but ig you don’t want to

harry (pinero) potter: BOYS TAKE IT BACK

aj shabeeeeel: i personally never said anything 🙏🏽

niko: you know i’ve always loved f1, nads

nella loml: lying on a public platform, niko??

nadia: you lot are too funny i can’t 😭

nadia: but yeah, wanted to know when you guys are available so that you guys can meet him officially

fiily felipe: welcoming our brother in law aww 🥹

king kenny: how about we chat about the marriage??

nadia: how about no? 🫶🏽

chunkz: i’m just happy something so special is happening to you, nads. you deserve it

nella loml: it’s been a tough ride and already it’s looking so up for you bae

nadia: you guys wanna make me cry on a monday morning 🫵🏽

sharks: always the plan 🫡

niko: to make her cry????

sharks: 😐

king kenny: pls come back to London asap, Cench has been calling us up for a vid ever since the last two 😔

nadia: leave me out of that one, i have a husband 🖐🏽

chunkz: YOU TELL THEM NADS

filly felipe: nadia thandeka hamilton, it has SUCH a nice ring to it 😭

aj shabeeeel: and you guys look so leng together, already my brother in law 🫡

harry (pinero) potter: better get home quick for that debrief!

saint’s team radio (once again!): hope you guys enjoyed this one! it’s got a little touch of how nadia interacts with people she knows and people she doesn’t, our social butterfly 🥹

we finally have a ship name for our favs ‘Lewdia’ coined by @mauvecherie-writes!

i’ve got a few more smaus ready but yeah, love you guys loads! 💗

#saint writes #f1 x reader #formula one x black reader #x black fem reader #formula one x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton fanfics #lewis hamilton imagine #renaissance: the series #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton x oc

451 notes · View notes

littlelioncub43 · 1 year

Text

Let's Exchange The Experience

Summary: Eddie's been acting strange lately. Slowly but surely pulling away, no matter what you try. But one phone call may just bring him right back to you.

Pairing: Mechanic! Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Word Count: 6,468 (She's a doozy ok, don't hurt yourself)

Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), slight angst, drug use, smoking, kinda high sex, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy!), cream pie, hair pulling, oral sex (f receiving), idiots in love, said idiots screaming while fucking, fluff, happy endings.

A/N: Ok! Part 3! Here she is! Honestly, I'll let this one speak for itself. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you: HER.

Kisses 💋

—K

P.S. Reblog and comment something nice or else I'll cry.

Part II Series Masterlist

You listen to the electronic ringing through the receiver, twirling the curled phone cord as you chew your lip. The nerves of possibly being rejected again was burning in your chest. You have no idea what it was, but Eddie had been acting weird. More weird than normal. It started off as small things at first; his hands shook when he would hand you something or move your hair out of your face, his eyes wouldn’t meet yours for longer than 10 seconds (if even that), or his smile would fall a few seconds faster than normal. You assumed there was something going on, but you also assumed he would tell you about it when he was ready.

Then it was bigger things, like not letting you sit in his lap during game night with the gang or cuddle during movie nights (which were slowly but surely becoming less and less frequent in the last few weeks). You were starting to fear he’d start avoiding you completely. Your leg bouncing ceased as soon as you heard the ringing stop.

“Eddie?” You hopefully call into the phone. You hear someone shuffling on the other line before you hear the voice you had hoped for.

“Hey, Princess,” Eddie mumbles happily into the receiver, a smile was evident in his voice but his words were far too relaxed to be normal. “Been thinkin’ about you.”

“Are you high?” You couldn’t help but chuckle, ignoring the butterflies that flutter in your tummy. His rumbling, throaty laughter is enough of an answer for you to know that he is, in fact, high.

“Maaaaaybe,” he coyly drawls into the phone. High or not, it was nice to hear him sound so calm. “You wanna come over? Wayne is working a double tonight, and I got a little baggie with your name written all over it.”

Chewing your lip once more, you think it over. It had been a while since you last smoked and work had been stressing you out, not to mention whatever was going on with Eddie.

“Come on, Sweets, it’ll be good for you. You know it will,” he coos, really pulling out all the stops, he knew you couldn’t say no to him when he spoke like that. You give a dramatic sigh, feigning annoyance.

“Well, I guess I could,” you hear him chuckling, “I’ll have to reschedule dinner with the Queen and the peace summit with Russia for another day.”

“Gorbachev can wait a day or two, Princess,” he says, “I, on other hand, cannot.”

You laugh softly, a sound that Eddie swears he can live off of, and shake your head.

“I’ll be over in 10 minutes, Munson.”

“I’ll keep a joint warm for you, babe, don’t you worry,” he sasses before you hang up the phone. The stupid grin you wear doesn’t leave your face as you head out the door. It stayed put as you drive the short but chilly distance to his trailer, only when you get to the door does it falter ever so slightly. You don’t get a chance to knock, the door creaks open slowly, revealing Eddie’s red rimmed eye peering at you through the crack in the door.

“Can I help you, Madame?” He says in a goofy British accent. You nearly break into a laugh but manage to hold it in.

“Uh, yes. I’m looking for a Lord Munson. This is the Munson Estate, correct?” You match his silliness and put your hands behind your back snootily.

“It is, Madame, but I’m afraid you’ll have to state your name and business, otherwise I’ll be forced to set the dogs on ya,” he says, keeping the door ajar. You shake your head with a laugh.

“Come on, Eddie, let me in. It’s cold,” you whine softly. Snow coated the ground and an icy wind swept in from the north, your blue jeans and winter coat did very little to fight off the cold.

“Oh, right, sorry, Princess,” he immediately pulls you inside, the warmth of the trailer immediately soothing your cold hands. You take your coat off, breathing in the familiar aroma of weed and Eddie’s house. It was comforting scent that you hadn’t smelled in months, work made sure to keep you too busy to smoke as much as you used to. After kicking off your shoes, you turn to find Eddie making you a cup of tea, something you always wanted when you got too cold.

“I recall you saying something about keeping a joint warm for me?” You ask as you grab a handful of chips, popping some in your mouth as Eddie brings you your tea, focusing extra hard on not spilling a drop.

“I did! It’s right�� wait, where did I put it?” He frowns and spins to search for it, muttering softly to himself as he retraces his steps before finding the neatly rolled joint waiting for you both in the ashtray on the coffee table. He grabs it and holds it up triumphantly, plopping down to the couch.

“Ha ha! Found it!” He pops it into his lips and lights it as you relax on to the couch beside him, stealing a few puffs off before handing it to you. “Here you are, my dear.”

“Thank you,” you chirp and pluck it from him. God, you needed this. Taking a deep breath, you let the thick smoke fill your lungs, eyes shut as you embrace the coming calm. Slowly, you blow the air from your pursed lips and up into the air, the action has Eddie’s full attention on you. Fuck, your lips are gorgeous. You hum and blink your eyes open. “God, I needed that.”

Eddie smiles and leans back into the couch, snagging the remote from the cushions and turning the TV on. Old reruns of Gilligan’s Island play on while you two pass the joint back and forth. You don’t say much, and for the first time in a while, it’s a comfortable silence. Soon, you find yourself leaning on Eddie, your limbs pleasantly tingly and light, made of feathers and lead all at once. You notice him shifting a lot beside you, his calmness slipping for a moment. A heavy yawn pulls from the base of Eddie’s chest as he stretches his arms above his head, one holding the shared joint comfortably between his fingers and the other coming to rest along the back of the couch behind you. You think nothing of it and choose to focus on the TV, Gilligan found radioactive vegetables and suddenly the entire island has super powers.

The warmth of Eddie’s arm sliding from the cushions to rest on your shoulders pulls your attention away from the screen once more. Eddie draws is a small breath, hiding the small gasp in the butt of the joint, but the longer his arm stays slung around you, the more he relaxes. With the buzz currently strumming through you, you decide to rest your head on his shoulder and reach for the shared blunt. Eddie hands it over, relishing in the heat as you snuggle in a little closer like you always do and sigh comfortably. His high was slowly starting to come down, which meant the nerves were starting to come back. Swallowing softly, he wills himself to relax (counterintuitive, I know). You look over at your best friend, his jaw was clenched as he breathes deeply through his nose, his leg starting to bounce as he fidgets with the hole in his jeans.

“You ok, Eds? You look tense,” you ask softly, it was killing you, you had to ask. When he looks back at you, he sees the genuine worry in your eyes. His heart soars when he realizes how close your face is to his, he can smell your shampoo, and God, you were just so perfect. He has to do something. Now or never.

“Y-Yeah,” he nods, clearing his throat, “I just wanted t-to apologize for being weird these last few weeks.”

“Oh,” you sigh, relief washing over you, “it’s ok, Eds. I figured something was up, but I’m…” you trail off, suddenly noticing how close your faces are too, “I’m glad we’re back to normal.”

“Me too, Sweets,” he says in a slow, deep voice, the sound sends a shiver through you, one you couldn’t exactly hide from him. His lips part as you stare at each other, his pupils dilating as the moments tick by.

Without breaking eye contact, Eddie takes the forgotten blunt from your hands and sets it aside in the ashtray. The brush of his hands on yours sears your skin in a way you’re all too familiar with. His hand comes back to caress your knee, his touch was gentle and careful, mindful of any boundaries that you might have. Carefully, you move with him, sliding into his lap, your movements unhurried and careful. Eddie takes a deep breath and welcomes you against his body, it was familiar yet different, you’d sat in his lap a million times before but this time just felt different. The arm that was slung around your shoulders slowly drapes itself further around your middle as you both are drawn to each other like magnets, his hold slowly capturing you like a python.

“Eddie,” you whisper, your own hand coming to his forearm, tracing those goddamn bats once more while the other rests against his shoulder. The second you touch him, Eddie is certain there is no going back for him. This was it.

“Be my girl,” he says in that low timber, his tone is bordering on begging. He’s scarily serious, a heat blazing behind his eyes. Your noses brush together, foreheads touching, your eyes stay fixed on his as you drink in his words, words you’ve dreamt of hearing for years. “Be my girl.”

“I am your girl,” you whisper without a second thought. It was the easiest answer you’ve ever given him. Eddie’s breathing catches in his throat at your words, his hands tightening around you before one slides up your back to cradle your head against his.

“You’re mine?” His voice was timid now, almost not believing you. You mould your body to him even more, cradling his head like he is yours.

“Yes,” you say simply, like it was the most obvious and true thing in the world— and it was. Eddie’s eyes slide shut with a sigh, relief washing over him as well as a tidal wave of happiness. You pull his head against yours a little firmer, basking in the quiet hush that took over the trailer ever since your conversation started.

“Kiss me.” You whisper, your words have Eddie’s eyes snapping open, almost as if he didn’t hear you correctly, so you repeat yourself. “Kiss me, Eddie.”

There were 3 things that you were absolutely certain: One, Eddie Munson had the softest lips in the entire universe. Two, there was no way you were ever going to forget this moment for as long as you live. And three, you were undoubtedly, unconditionally, and irrevocably in love with him.

Nothing in this world has ever felt so right.

The tender yet passionate press of his lips on yours had your head spinning, your hand in his hair tightened to help ground you. Eddie’s hold on you tightened as well, the kiss slowly but surely deepening. The first swipe of your tongue across his bottom lip evokes a deep groan from the pit of his chest, your own answering whimper vibrates against his mouth. He welcomes your tongue into his mouth with his own, playing with your tongue happily, taking his time to taste you as thoroughly as he possibly can. You lure his wet muscle deeper into your mouth, the action alone has Eddie panting like he ran a mile. The buzzing high from the weed is quickly replaced with the electric want strumming through you both.

Soon, breathing becomes a necessity and Eddie reluctantly breaks the kiss. Gasping for air, you can’t help but steal a few more pecks in between heaving breath, each kiss ending with a satisfyingly wet smack. The quick pecks soon turn back into full kisses, tongues drawn back to each other with need. When you shift forward, you feel it; hot and hard at the front of his jeans. Eddie detaches from your lips to gasp, his eyes fluttering as you rest your weight against his hard on.

“J-Jesus Christ,” he gasps, staring at you with those big doe eyes. He dives in again, not being able to stand to not be kissing you for every long. You hum before breaking away from him once more, your foreheads resting against each other as you breathe in sync.

“I… I love you. I love you so much,” he professes between deep breaths, the heft of sincerity is clear in his tone, “you’re… you’re everything.”

“I love you, too,” you respond and pepper his face with kisses, drawing a happy grin across Eddie’s face. “Been in love with you for so long, Eddie, so long.”

Eddie groans at that, tucking his face away into the crook of your neck, letting himself finally feast on the delicate skin like he’s always wanted. You shiver when you feel his lips sweep across your throat, messy kisses trailing along the column of your neck. It has you positively trembling, the throbbing wetness between your thighs was nearly unbearable. Sweet moans fall from your lips as he sucks a hickey into the soft skin of your throat, your hips naturally moving against his to ease the throbbing between your legs.

“Eddie,” you moan out into the living room, the sinful sound reverberating off the walls of the cluttered trailer and filling Eddie’s ears. He curses under his breath, hips lifting up to meet yours eagerly. You fall into a slow yet heated rhythm together, both of you writhing in perfect time. Eddie kisses his way back up to your mouth.

“Princess, fuck, that feels so good,” he growls, his cock pulses and strains against the seam of his zipper. Each roll of your hips was quickly turning his brain to mush, all he knew was that this was the best thing in the fucking world and nothing could possibly top it.

“Take me to bed, Eddie, please.”

Ok, he was wrong.

“Yes. I—You—Yes,” is all he can get out before he’s rising from his spot with you scooped up in his arms. You yelp at the sudden movements, clinging to Eddie’s surprisingly strong body as he marches you both towards the back of the trailer. Eddie continues to mouth at your neck and lips, switching between the two eagerly while maneuvering you both through the house perfectly. He slams his door open blindly before kicking it shut with enough vigor to shake the frame.

“Dreamt about this so many times, Sweets, you have no fucking idea,” he groans as he lowers you to his bed, taking a moment to appreciate the sight of you beneath him. The throbbing of his cock is nearly painful when he sees the sight before him: you on your back, your lips swollen and plump from his kisses, hickeys and lovebites that he left blossoming along your gorgeous neck, your hair messy from his hands.

“Oh, fuck, you have no idea,” he rips his t shirt off and tosses it to the side without a thought before diving back down to you, his mouth attached to the skin of your throat, “you’re so fucking beautiful, y’know that right? Make me so fucking crazy all the damn time.”

He was rambling, he knew it, but really couldn’t control himself at this point. The only thing on his mind was showing you just how much he loved you in any way you’d let him. Your hands eagerly explored the newly exposed skin of his torso and chest, your fingers tracing over the tattoos you’ve memorized a million times over. A pleased grin pulls at your lips when you see him shiver as your hands ghost over his heated skin. Slowly raking your hands across his chest, you cup his jaw in your hands, forcing him to look at you.

“You’re gorgeous, Eddie Munson,” you purr to him, letting every ounce of emotion you feel for him pour into your words. You see his eyes glaze over as he searches yours, looking for any lies or truths in you, and finding more of the latter than anything else. His face turns an adorable shade of pink, one that you have every intention of seeing again.

Before he can say anything, you steal another kiss, distracting him for a moment. The feeling of your hands sliding down his body once more has Eddie pulling at your top, silently asking if he can remove it. You nod and he tears the fabric away from your body as quick as he possibly can to return his mouth to yours, Eddie was certain he’d never get enough of your kisses.

The moment your hands return to his body they start sliding south, teasing the buckle of his belt. A shuddering gasp breaks Eddie’s lips from yours, his jaw drops when you cup the front of his pants. Even through the layer of denim separating you you’re able to feel his length against your palm. From what you can feel, he was thick, and hard, and just begging to be played with. With your bottom lip caught in your teeth, you rub at the bulge eagerly.

“A-Ah, haaaaaah fuck,” Eddie moans, no shame evident in his voice. He grips the bare flesh of your sides as you touch him, trying to ground himself with his mouth over your bra-covered chest. God, if it was this good through his jeans, he was certain he was going to die when you actually touch him.

“Eddie,” you moan as he mouths at your nipple through the thin material of your black bra, the sound of his name has his hips surging into your hand. He switches from one breast to the other, giving sloppy kisses and teasing bites to the soft flesh. With trembling hands, you start undoing his belt as fast as you can but whine when the belt doesn’t come undone. “Wanna feel you, baby, please?” You ask oh, so sweetly.

“Fuck, ok, ok, yeah,” he mumbles as he rises to his knees, his own shaking hands unfasten the belt much faster than you could hope for. You hear the clinking of his belt and the hum of his zipper being pulled down, your face heating up with excitement, your hips wiggling on their own accord. Eddie kicks off his jeans and socks, leaving him in his favorite checkered boxers. You barely get a glance at the tent in his boxers before he’s playing with the button and zipper of your own pants. “Can I take these off, Sweets?”

“Yes, please,” you confirm with quick nods, and that’s all he needed before tearing off your trousers and throwing them behind him without a thought.

“Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathes as he hovers above you, his calloused hand tracing the slope of your outer thigh and hip, his thumb rubbing over the elastic band of your black panties (thank God you wore a somewhat matching set—basics for the fucking win). Your face heats up at his words again.

“You said that already, Eds,” you tease with a bashful smile, and Eddie can’t help but smirk at your reaction, you were so cute when you got all flustered.

“It needs to be said again, Princess,” his voice dropped back to that husky tone. He was looking a little too smug for your liking. Deciding that revenge was in order, you unclip your bra, letting it slip down your arms before you discard it with the rest of your clothes. The look on Eddie’s face, was exactly what you hoped: jaw dropped wide, his eyes wide and laser focused on your naked chest. He was stunned speechless.

“I—Fucking hell!” He curses under his breath before eagerly attacking your chest. Loud moans fill the room as he latches his annoying skilled mouth to your nipple, sucking and lapping at it like his life depended on it while his other hand cupped and kneaded the flesh of your other breast just as passionately. His own pitiful moans matched yours, eyes sliding shut as he relishes in the feeling of you in his hands and mouth.

“Fuck, yes!” You cry out when he pinches your hardened bud between two rough fingers and rolls it, your back arching into his face and hands for more while your hands pulled at his hair and scratched at his back. Eddie shivers when he feels the bite of your nails along his skin. Your eyes flutter when you feel his kisses getting lower and lower, now leaving a trail down your belly while his hands caressed your hips, playing with the bands of your soaked underwear. Settling in on his stomach between your legs, Eddie gently spreads your legs, holding your thighs in his large hands tenderly. A whine escapes you when he kisses along your inner thighs, making sure to leave imprints of his teeth and mouth on the juicy meat.

He was about to ask for permission to remove your underwear but you lift your hips for him before he can speak. With a pleased smirk, Eddie peels your panties away from your core, going slowly so he can watch the strings of your arousal stick to the gusset of your panties. Eddie can swear that he’s never been harder in his entire life. It takes every ounce of self control within him to not blow his load at the sight of your bare pussy, wet and waiting for him to touch. A loud appreciative groan bubbles from the back of his throat, your confidence skyrocketing at the sound of it. The small smirk you wear is quick to disappear when his tongue licks a fat stripe up the cut of you, collecting as much of your arousal as he possibly can.

“O-Ohh fuck!” You whimper and lift your head to watch him, Eddie moans as your sweetness coats his tongue for the first time. He knew immediately that he was never going to be satisfied, he would always crave your heady flavor. The feeling of his tongue lapping at your folds rids your mind of any coherent thought, all you could feel was the heat of pleasure coursing through you in perfect time with his wiggling tongue. You grip the long curly locks of his hair for help, head tipping back against the pillow, thighs trembling as his warm mouth surrounds your clit, sucking harshly just to hear you moan for him. He eats you like he would never be fed again, his movements viciously reverent, equal parts desperate and passionate.

Eddie casts a glance up at you, smiling through the hazy lust that coats his mind. You’re a mess with your sweaty skin shining in the light from his bedside lamp, your hair wild from where you’ve pulled on it, your eyes were screwed shut and your gorgeous mouth was hung ajar to let him hear every single noise you made. He’s got you right where he wants you; writhing and whining above him with his head between your thighs.

The firm grip he has on your thighs tightens the more you twist and writhe in his hold. The sting at his scalp spurs him on, your high pitched cries of his name and curses fuel his desire. He circles a thick finger at your quivering entrance before easing it into your heat, the tightness of your cunt around his finger has his hips driving down into the mattress on their own accord.

“E-Eddie! M’gonna cum!” You cry out, not caring if any of the nosy neighbors can hear you. If anything you wanted them to hear you, because Eddie Munson is a fucking God at giving head.

There’s a building tension in the pit of your gut, fire consuming your every nerve as he works you closer and closer to your high. He maintains the pace of his mouth and finger, carefully adding another finger in with the other, stretching you out as best he can. Your legs shake around his head, his free hand holding your thighs open for him, your back arching suddenly as you draw tight. He can feel your walls pulsing and fluttering around his fingers, his cock flexing desperately with need as you finally cum for him.

Melodious. Perfect. Beautiful.

That’s how Eddie would describe the sound and feeling of you coming for him. The sinful cry of his name is the only thing on your lips as you cum. Stars burst behind your eyelids as you fall over the edge, your breathing shallow and erratic as Eddie slows the speed of his fingers and mouth, now giving your clit gentle kisses. Only when you push at his head with a whining plead does Eddie release you with a gasp.

“You taste so fucking good, so fucking good,” is all he can say through his own heaving breaths, petting your outer thigh while you come down. You feel his lips press soothing kisses to your heated skin, making you grin and giggle breathily. Eddie matches your smile, your release coating his lips still, and if it were up to him, they would stay that way forever.

“Come here,” you pull at him as he quickly crawls up your body. Your lips attack his the instant they are in reach, the tangy sweetness of yourself on his tongue does nothing to deter you from practically devouring him. Eddie’s brain short-circuits when you play with the waistband of his boxers. “Take these off for me, baby.”

He did not need to be told twice.

He scrambles to get them off and down his legs, his frantic movements making you giggle and sit up on your elbows. Eddie grins when his boxers are finally kicked to the floor, his skin flushed pink already. Your breath catches in your throat when you see him; he was thick and long, his red tip leaking beads of pearly precum and glistening in the lamp light. You moan softly at the sight, biting your lip as Eddie takes his place on top of you again. He can’t say that this was the reaction he expected, but it was definitely better than he had hoped for.

Before either of you can speak, you’re pulling him in to a heated kiss and flipping him on to his back. Eddie moans in surprise when his back lands on his bed, but then a pleased purr rumbles into your mouth when you settle into his lap. A pleased sigh flutters from you when his bare skin glides across yours for the first time. No clothes, no barriers to keep you separated. It felt right.

“F-Fucking hell,” Eddie curses in a soft voice when your dripping cunt settles against his bare cock, the feeling was only what he could describe as divine. Then you rocked against him. “Oh! Oh, fuck yes!”

You whimper when his hands clutch your hips, his bruising grip helping you to grind a little faster on him.

“Yeah, yeah, a little faster, rub your pussy on me, Princess, just like that,” he breathes out, his eyes glued to the space between you to watch as his cock get drenched in your juices. “Holy fucking shit, baby, that’s so—that’s so hot.”

“Eddie, please,” you moan, the desperation was getting to you, “need you inside me, need to fuck you.”

“God,” he groans and tosses his head back on the pillow beneath him, shutting his eyes to keep from blowing his load immediately. He realizes his mistake the moment your mouth starts to bite at his neck, your plush lips sucking at his pulse to leave matching hickeys that he’ll admire later. “Fuck, ok, Princess—“ he doesn’t get to finish his sentence before you’re rising to your knees with a pretty hand wrapped around the base of his cock to guide him into you.

The moment his mushroom tip catches your quivering entrance, Eddie is sure that time stopped. You slowly ease him into you, letting gravity pull you on to his dick. So, this is what it heaven is like, you think to yourself before the pleasure renders you thoughtless. You listen to the long moan Eddie releases and naturally match it. Inch after inch, he fills you, stretching your little hole beyond what you’ve thought possible. The wetness you left behind on his shaft and the mix of his spit between your legs ease your descent, allowing him to slip further and further into you until he finally bottoms out. Eddie is speechless, his jaw open wide as he pants, eyes shut tight, his legs were already shaking. Nothing has ever felt this fucking good in his life.

“Oh my God, you’re so fucking big,” you moan in a thin voice, your eyes fluttering at the feeling of Eddie, your best friend, finally being inside you. “Feel so good, Eddie, so fucking full.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he breathes out quickly, trying to regain composure, and finally opens his eyes. He sees you perched on top of him like he’s always dreamed about: your back arched ever so slightly to accommodate him inside you, your eyes looked dazed and fucked out already, plush lips wet with your spit and ajar as you gasp for breath, sweat gave your skin a dewey ethereal glow.

“Oh God, you—fuck!” He curses again, his brain failing him and leaving him with no thoughts except ‘fuck.’ And he had every intention of doing just that.

With your hands braced on his chest, you give an experimental grind of your hips. Rolling in a circle, you let your hips move sensually, easing yourself into the sensations. The tuft of hair at the base of him rubs into your clit, the sensitive nub getting just the right amount of stimulation that has you speeding up. Drawing your hips up, you finally start to bounce on him. Soon the precise pace that you found is lost to a frenzy, want and lust taking over your bodies until neither of you can fight it.

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck, Eddie!” You cry out as you lose yourself, Eddie’s firm grip helping you ride him. He gives you a shout of your name in response of his own, his hips lifting to meet yours. He watches the way your face contorts each time he thrusts into you, addicted to the cute scrunch of your nose when he bottoms out.

“So good, that’s it, good fucking girl, taking me so fucking well,” he rambles in a gruff voice that is eerily similar to his morning voice. The throaty rasp has you clenching around him, pulling deeper groans from the man beneath you. “Such a tight little pussy, Princess, feels so good around me, never wanna fucking leave, wanna keep fucking you forever.”

He knows it’s silly but that’s how he feels. He can tell you like it too, judging from the way you claw at his pecks and throw yourself on his dick even harder. Tipping your head back, you let yourself feel. The blinding, searing euphoria coursing through your veins, Eddie’s brutal grip on your hips, his flush, heated skin sticking to yours, the pleasurable scratch of his body hair, the comfortable softness of his mattress beneath you both.

Eddie watches as your eyes slide shut, he can see each wave of pleasure crash down on you, the way your face can’t hide how good you feel, how your moans are forced out of you each time he slams you down on his cock, the hypnotizing bounce of your tits in front of him. He couldn’t take it anymore.

Sitting up, he braces a hand behind him on the bed and wraps an arm around your waist, holding you in place while he takes control. With his knees bent, Eddie is able to drive up into you harder than before. You claw at his shoulder and lean back a little, adding a small grind to his thrusts to send you both into a tizzy.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck! Eddie!” You moan at the top of your lungs, one hand grabbing a handful of Eddie’s hair and pulling harshly. That nearly does him in.

“O-Oh!” He whimpers, his cock flexing deep inside you as his pace falters for a moment before returning to the punishing rhythm. The feeling of your pussy juices leaking down his bare shaft and dripping down his balls leaves him delirious. It’s then that he realizes he’s not wearing a condom.

“Fuck! Princess, you gotta get off! M’Gonna cum! G-Get off! Gonna cum!” He sounds broken, he looks like it too, with his face crumpling with debilitating pleasure. He desperate to keep going right up until he has to pull out, his arm around you getting ready to lift you off of him.

“No, inside! Want it inside, Eddie, please!” You whine and lean in, kissing sloppily at his open mouth. Your begging is painful to listen to, but it erases any coherent thought in his head. The hand holding him up meets your clit to start rubbing furious circles on it, the rough callous of the pads of his fingers has you seizing up in his grasp. You needed to cum before he did. With his sweaty forehead resting on yours, he watches as you finally fall apart. “Cum inside me! Cum inside me! Eddie!”

You practically scream for him when you reach your peak, your entire body trembling and tensing around him. Eddie watches as you surrender to your high, he’s never seen someone look so beautiful. The unbridled scream of his name paired with your pleas for him to finish inside you is more than enough for Eddie.

“I-I love you, love you so fucking much!” He grits out through his teeth as he finally comes. Nothing in this world can describe the feeling of his cum finally filling you. The sounds of his loud moans, wanton and bordering on screams, were the most erotic sounds you could ever think of. You cling to him, and he to you, as you both shiver and tremble, riding out your highs together.

Eddie can barely think, nothing mattered to him except what he held in his arms at the moment. He could hear the ringing in his ears as well as your mixed moans, feel the heaving of your chests and the hammering of your hearts as they beat rapidly. Peeling open his heavy eyelids, he’s met with your own weighted stare. The fucked out expression on your face paired with the knowledge that he was the one to put it there, sent his heart soaring for the skies. He brings both hands to your back, rubbing the dewey skin with a shaking touch. He cradles you to him with a grin so bright you swear it could light up the sky.

You can’t help the giggle that bubbles in your throat, your arms slung around his neck to pull him into a kiss. It’s sweet and tender, a bit sloppy from your exhaustion but still absolutely perfect. Eddie strokes as much of your skin as he can reach, trailing his hands from your thighs and up your back as many times as he can.

“I love you,” you hear him mumble against your lips before kissing you again with the ghost of a smile, “I love you,” kiss, “I love you,” kiss.

“I love you, too,” you whisper back, you feel your face heat up, “that was the best sex I’ve ever had in my entire life.”

“Fuck, me too,” Eddie grumbles with a smirk, clearly proud of himself, “I don’t think I can walk after that,” he chuckles, “fucking hell, when you begged me to cum inside you? Fuck, I nearly passed out.”

You chuckle with him and hide your face in the crook of his neck, letting him hold you a little closer. Eddie grins like an idiot, you were always so cute when you got bashful, and it was funny to see the contrast between the sweet angel hiding her face and the sex goddess who rode him within an inch of his life. His light laughter died off as he lowered his head to whisper to you.

“I came inside you.” You could hear the worry in his voice, so you caress the meat of his arm before pulling back to give him a reassuring smile.

“I’m on the pill. We’re safe,” you say gently. In an instant, any and all worries left his body immediately. The cute little wrinkle between his lightly furrowed eyebrows disappeared with a sigh and was replaced by his million-dollar smile.

“We’re safe,” he repeats and you nod, “so that means I can do that again?”

“If you want to,” you bite your lip when Eddie gives you a mischievous look.

“‘If I want to?’ Princess, that’s all I’ve ever wanted to do for the last 5 years,” he scoffs and shakes his head, “‘If I want to.’”

You giggle at his rambling and play with a strand of his messy hair. A few moments pass in silence as you both bask in the after glow.

“When did you… did you realize that you love me?” You ask gently, peeking up to see Eddie watching you with loving eyes— like he always was.

“Since you told me my bat tattoo was cool in sophomore year,” he whispers back to you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear while he smiles at the memory. “You were the only one who actually liked them. I couldn’t look at them without thinking of you, after that. Still can’t.”

“Oh,” you were nearly crying. How sweet can he possibly be, you were going to die.

“What about you?”

“When you beat up Derek Steinberg for starting those rumors about me. You did it without even hesitating and then you-you made sure that I was ok. You were so kind and so selfless and— no one ever cared about me like that before.”

“Well, it seems we’ve had it down bad for each other for a long time,” he chuckles, lightening up the mood a little. “We’ve got some time to make up, don’t you think?”

“Mmhmm,” you nod with a smile.

“Dates, dinners, parties… I think it’s time we did some of those.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

I no longer have a taglist! If you would like to stay up-to-date on when I post a new fic, follow @littlelioncub-library to be notified!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated and needed because I love them 💖

#come on angel the series #eddie munson x reader #mechanic!eddie munson is my new love #mechanic!eddie munson #mechanic!eddie munson x female reader #mechanic!eddie #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x you smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #joseph quinn #little lion literature

5K notes · View notes

eccentricwritingbaby · 6 months

Text

meet-cute

part one! part two part three

lando norris x fem!reader

summary - y/n y/l/n just needed a coffee when she walked into the shop, she didn’t expect to also walk out with a date.

masterlist

you had just recently moved to monaco in order to get away from the ordinary life that you found yourself having. you were a person who needed adventure and opportunity which just wasn’t happening in your hometown. you maneuvered your way through the streets in order to reach your favorite coffee spot for your much needed afternoon pick me up. once inside, you patiently waited in line until it was your turn to order.

“double espresso with almond milk, please,” you spoke quickly to the barista taking your order.

“no problem,” she smiled as you gave your cash to her while leaving the rest of your change in the tip jar. you then moved right over to the side in order to wait for your brew to be finished up. after a few moments the barista called out your order and you reached over to grab it. by doing so your hand was covered over by anothers and you briefly pulled your hand away.

“i guess there's two people in this shop with great taste,” you heard a swift british accent say to you.

“i guess so,” you chuckle, “i apologize you most likely ordered before me that's most likely yours,” you speak to the handsome stranger.

“please take it, I don't mind waiting,” he says to you while eyeing you a bit, “but only on one condition,” he adds.

“and what may that condition be?” you question with a teasing smile, enjoying the attention from the attractive man.

he moves slightly closer to you and continues with his proposition, “that you wait with me for my order as well,” he speaks with a smile.

“well kind sir, you’ve just made yourself a deal,” you wink while grabbing the coffee and taking a seat at a nearby table. he moves over to sit at the seat across from you while taking you in.

“have i seen you somewhere before?” you ask, looking at him a bit longer.

he gives a quiet laugh while proceeding to say, “i do not believe we’ve met, love. i would’ve remembered a face like yours. i’m lando, by the way,”

“y/n,” you reply, “its lovely to meet you lando,”

after many more words exchanged and lando’s - technically yours - coffee appearing, you sadly had to make your way out of the coffee shop and into your plans for the day ahead. you and lando begin to exit the shop, still laughing here and there at different inside jokes you had come up with in the mere hour that you had together. once you reach a certain navy lamborghini, lando halts his movements and speaks.

“well this is me,” he sighs, “but i do hope we can see each other soon?”

“i’d really enjoy that, lando,” you say as his heart feels as though it has skipped a beat with the sugary way you say his name.

“then how about tomorrow night? are you available for a date?” he asks quickly.

“i don’t know, i may have other plans with a random stranger i met at a different coffee shop,” you tease.

“ha-ha very funny,” he bites back, “what if i grab your number and we sort this out later,” you smile and hand over your phone while he loads his number in.

“well i have to leave, but it was very nice meeting you, lando. hopefully we see each other again very soon,” you smile back up at him while he gives you his signature smile right back.

“same for you, y/n. i’ll call you,”

“i’ll be waiting,” you give him one last wink and begin your walk away. he was enjoying the view of you walking away when your movements quickly halted and you turned slowly on your heel.

“holy shit, mclaren!” you look back at him and begin laughing, “that’s why you looked familiar!” you said between laughs, “wow i am so dim, i’m so sorry,”

he gives you a shy smile while nodding, “i actually am quite happy you didn’t catch on, i appreciate some normalcy sometimes,”

“well in that case, if you want something normal, you’re going to have to work for that date, mister,” you reply while giving a sly wink and continuing on your way. lando smiled and hopped into his car. he would definitely be working for his date with you, but it would very much be worth it - and he couldn’t wait.

503 notes · View notes

w00d1and · 20 days

Text

𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘༘ florida wind + troubles

➯ y/n is at a race where she runs into a high school memory she’d like to forget. thankfully ollie comes to her rescue.

➯ very fearful to post my first little writing but i tried my darndest so enjoy or not. constructive criticism is welcome 🌷

➯ warnings: high school bullies but hey we got ollie standing up for y/n!!

the rosso corsa sundress billowed in the soft yet humid miami wind. the peace of being back in beachy paradise felt like she was almost floating on a cloud while she flowed through the familiar paddock, speaking to fans and collecting gifts for ollie.

her sunglasses were pushed up to her head as she slid friendship bracelets onto her wrist, taking photos with fans while simultaneously collecting letters and plushies for her boyfriend. after it seemed most of the fans had been noticed and all important gifts had been placed carefully in her beige tote bag she began the walk back to the ferrari motorhome, passing the jet black mercedes garage as she goes.

she doesn’t think twice as she passes other paddock goers, walking by two girls waiting near the mercedes motorhome until a familiar italian face pops his head out waving to the girl skipping along her way through the floridan paddock. a simple wave and smile to kimi is given before she continues on until a hand grabs her freckled arm and her journey back is cut short.

a quick squeal and she jumps back, heart thumping through her chest as the sunglasses previously rested atop her head, fall to the sidewalk and she meets the eyes of who stopped her. it felt as if every single high school memory flooded back to her in a second. the insults, the rude looks, the violence for a girl she’d tried to forget.

“y/n? long time no see, finally got to a race, i see.” the girl’s arms crossed over the sky blue dress, one y/n adored with its contrast against the hateful girl’s tan skin.

“oh, yeah. you know my boyfriend got me paddock passes.” she let out an awkward laugh, twisting the ends of her sunglasses in her hands, desperately trying get this conversation to end faster. why years later did she have to run into her old high school “friend”?

“oh? where is he?” the girl stood behind her blast from the past asked, a matching dress in moss green adorning her body as she smirked at the memory of a girl.

“oh he’s just waiting for me in uhm, ferrari.” she spoke vaguely, trying desperately not to let them in on her private life even more than she already had.

“you don’t have to lie to us, y/n. it’s okay if momma bought the tickets for you.” the girl faked a frown. while y/n let out a deep breath, currently hoping and praying anyone would come pull her away, unfortunately the small curly headed mercedes driver seemed to disappear after a quick greeting from his close friend’s girlfriend.

“listen, i just want to enjoy my day with my boyfriend.” y/n tried to brush off the conversation, gently as the people pleaser she always was and will be.

“oh shut up like you actually have a boyfriend. give it up, if i don’t have one right now then you certainly can’t.” her old friend groaned, her hands dropping down to her sides in exasperation. almost as if she genuinely didn’t believe the girl stood before he once again, but who was she kidding she most definitely didn’t believe y/n.

just as she felt as though it would never end a hand snaked around her waist and the familiar british accent spoke beside her.

“hello amore mio, i was waiting for you.” (my love) y/n could barely turn her head before ollie turned her head for her and gave her a sweet yet short peck she’d never get tired of.

“oh uhm just got caught up.” she smiled at him, leaning on his shoulder as he looked towards the girls. after years he could read the girl before him like a book and obviously these people were a bother, he just couldn’t figure out how.

“oh? i’m oliver.” he nodded towards the two girls who seemed gobsmacked, both rushing to speak to their old celebrity crush.

“oh my gosh ollie, i love you so much. i’m an old friend of y/n.” the previously harsh girl put her best smile on her face with a hand extended, promptly ignored by ollie.

“it’s oliver.” ollie corrected and y/n couldn’t help but let a small smile through at his sternness before he whisked her away back to ferrari, her dress twirling making her feel like a less woodsy, more motor oil version of giselle from enchanted.

“do you know i love you?” y/n looked up at the ferrari driver, a genuine smile shone up to him as he smiled back down, his happiness stemming from her sunshine smile.

“and i. love. you.” ollie fit a kiss between each word as they entered his driver’s room before she pulled away with a series of giggles.

“thanks for saving me from my high school bully.” her voice barely above a whisper, as her eyes searched the briton’s face. her eyes filled with memories flashing through them, her mind only brought back to the present by ollie’s voice.

“you’re welcome love, it’s my offical duty as your lovely f1 driver boyfriend.” y/n gave a playful smack to his chest before rolling her eyes at his joking ego. with a small laugh she pulled him back into a hug so tight he thought he might loose his head to her love before any crash into a barrier. after her hold loosened ollie pulled back with pure love in his eyes before sighing in contentment at the girl before him. her gorgeous eyes staring back at him with her hair slightly tangled from the florida wind. oh how he would protect her from everyone who troubled her. anytime, anywhere.

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #mv1 #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #formula one x y/n #formula one x you #ollie bearman #oliver bearman #ob38 #ob3 #ferrari #ferrari f1 #scuderia ferrari #scuderia ferrari f1

400 notes · View notes

vscabarca · 2 months

Text

photographer - pablo gavi

summary: gavi has a crush on the club‘s photographer, but he‘s afraid you don‘t speak spanish.

genre: fluff

———

Sitting on the couch with the phone in your hands, you scrolled through old pictures, smiling at all the beautiful moments you’ve experienced over the years. Giggling, you turned your head towards your boyfriend, gavi.

He was watching a random football game when he turned his head and shifted his attention to you.

„what‘s so funny hermosa?“ he asked, stroking your legs which were draped over his lap.

„i just found the picture i took of you when we first met.“ you snickered, making gavi turn his head in embarrassment.

„amor, this is so embarrassing.“ He groaned.

„no it was cute! It just makes me laugh that you told me you were too shy to speak english.“ you replied, shuffling closer to him and put you head on his chest.

———

„¿quién es?“ gavi asked fermin, trying to sound unbothered by your presence.

„who?“ fermin asked, not really understanding what his friend was saying.

„who is the new photographer? i’ve never seen her before.“ he tilted his head towards you, who recently started working as a club photographer. you were twenty, moving from England to Spain, pursuing your dream in sports photography. Pure coincidence led you to this job, now taking pictures of sweaty footballers every day. Couldn’t be better right?!

„ay Pablito likes the new photographer huh?“ fermin nudged him, earning a smack from his friend.

„OW!“

gavi wouldn’t tell anyone for the first few weeks but he found you very cute. During his trainings he glanced over to you sometimes, seeing you do your job and take pictures for the official FC Barcelona account.

After one particular fun practice, he walked back with Ansu to the locker room. On his way back, you stood on the sidelines, encouraging the players to pose for a post-practice picture.

It was the first time he heard your voice, a british accent coming through.

„smile!“ you asked kindly when ansu and gavi walked past. Both flashed you a smile, making your lips turn upwards too.

After the „click“ sound, you glanced back up, holding eye contact with gavi for a few seconds. As the two players disappeared into the tunnel, you couldn’t help but blush at the thought of the nineteen year old.

@fcbarcelona: training done🫡 ✅

———

„just ask her out after practice hermano!“ pedri urged gavi but he just shook his head resolutely.

pedri found out about his little crush not much later. gavi wasn’t the best at keeping things to himself, he just couldn’t keep secrets.

„hermano, I can’t speak english!“ he spoke frustrated after hearing you talk with a british accent.

pedri just laughed out loud, his head flying back as he clutched onto his chest.

„bro, be serious I bet she can speak spanish. At least a bit. You can speak english too!“ pedri argued, encouraging his younger friend to make a move.

„Have you ever heard me speak english? I sound stupid with my accent!“ gavi just waved him off, getting into a shower to clear his mind.

It has been a week later and gavi still didn’t talk to you. His heartache grew stronger over time, seeing you everyday engrossed in your work made him weak. Little did he know, you had your focus more on gavi than on any other player, snapping some good pictures of him during practice.

The next day, gavi came home late, deciding to ask you out the day after. Stressed as he was, he downloaded Duolingo to do about three exercises before he grew even more stressed and deleted the app again.

———

tying his boots, he received a crash course from ansu. he could speak english quite well in contrast to gavi.

mid-sentence he shot up, glaring at his friend.

„how do you know I have a crush on the photographer?“ he asked bewildered as he saw ansus smirk on his lips.

„almost the whole team knows, don’t tell pedri your secrets pablito.“

he was fuming but walked off earning funny faces from his teammates.

you were doing your job like always, trying to get some good shots when gavi walked in front of the lens, doing a silly pose.

you glanced up from the camera, blushing as you saw gavi smiling at you.

„did you get a good shot?“ he asked rather shy, his thick spanish accent coming through.

„yeah. not really hard when you’re the model.“ you chuckled, seeing Gavis lips curl up into a smile at your words.

„could be the other way around too, you know?“

your heart fluttered after hearing the footballers words, a blush creeping up your face.

„i‘m gavi by the way.“

you just laughed, seeing the puzzled expression on the boy’s face.

„i know who you are, silly. I‘m Y/n.“ you said, feeling much more comfortable now after seeing how nice gavi actually was.

he relaxed too, feeling a good connection between the two of you.

„so, i‘ve seen you around for some time now and thought you were really cute. is there a chance to get to know you better?“ gavi asked, before seeing his teammates walk onto the pitch alongside xavi.

„yes of course. i could give you my number.“ you offered and placed the camera down next to you.

„Sería perfecto.“ Gavi answered, forgetting you didn‘t speak Spanish.

„my english isn’t the best, i mix it up sometimes.“ He said and scratched the back of his head.

„don’t worry, your english is perfect. I‘m the one who should learn spanish!“

He smiled softly at you when you scribbled your number on a piece of paper and handed it to him.

„gavi! come here!“ xavi shouted, interrupting the cute moment between you two.

gavi glanced over his shoulder, seeing the whole team staring at you.

„go, or else xavi will kill me for talking to his beloved youngster.“ you chuckled as Gavi laughed at your joke, pulling you in a short hug.

„see you around. i‘ll text you.“ he spoke, already running to the group before he earned a slap on his head from pedri. fermin basically jumped onto his back as he told them what the two of them were talking about.

———

„if you didn’t speak English that day, i probably wouldn’t sit on your lap right now, don’t you think?“ you asked and put your hands around his neck, pulling gavi closer to you.

He just smirked cockily, pulling you into a sweet kiss and mumbled a quiet „mhmm“.

#pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi #gavi #gavi x reader #gavi one shot #barca #football x reader #football one shot #fc barcelona #fermin lopez x reader #pedri x reader

258 notes · View notes

bruciemilf · 3 months

Note

Any hot takes or opinions about Leslie, Alfred and Jim Grodon?

OH!!

Alfred listens to gangster rap in his free time, but, he listens to female artists exclusively. In all genres. “Men speak enough, don’t you think?”

He can mimic any accent under the sun. EXCEPT for the “Jersey girl buying energy drinks at a gas station” one.

He just can’t bring himself to. Tim has this theory that their beloved shotgun grandpa isn’t even British and he’s faking it. He’s willing to die on the cross for it.

Leslie used to write Jason’s gym passes when he had to skip. Either because some rogue got a little too rowdy (and by God, she feels just a minuscule bit worse for them after Bruce is done with them)

I don’t know if this is feasible at all, but she somehow convinced his gym teacher he can’t participate cause he’s on his period. “…Well, this is Gotham, I guess. “

I think Jim gets into fights with the moms from his Facebook group, — specifically, his PTA group. (It truly depends on what version of Barbara you prefer, — but I love her in The Batman 2004)

Alfred keeps Martha’s wedding ring on his left hand and Thomas’ on his right. He only takes them off when he patches Bruce up. And he has their last words tattooed on his back ^^

Jim is sick and tired of Bruce dipping in the middle of their conversations, so he handcuffs them together until they’re done.

Maybe even a bit after. They should get to spend time together. (Harley Quinn series I see you and I hear you

#asks #dc #dc comics #alfred pennyworth #batman #leslie thompkins #jim gordon #also it really depends on who I cast jim as that day. Jim from Batman 2022??? father. catches Bruce choking on his vape and throws a fit #PEDRO PASCAL JIM GORDON. DADDY. GROUCHY ASS MF WHO STEPS ON BRUCES CAPE AND WALKS HIM LIKE A DOG #YEAH!!!!!#text #text post #jason todd #also jason ran to leslie in his mob boss days bc he couldn’t go to any other hospital #batfamily #BC JIM IS A BATFAM MEMBER TOO GOD DAMN IT

200 notes · View notes

rebeliz7 · 9 months

Text

More than anything

Wanda Maximoff x Super Soldier!Reader

Warnings: Killgrave shenanigans - forced acts - descriptions of blood - fighting - quite a bit of fighting.

Request: What about a Wanda maximoff x powered fem reader where Killgrave gets to the reader and forces her to fight the avengers and try to kill them and Wanda is the only one who can stop her.

Word Count: 4520

…

You don’t believe in bad omens. At least you’ve never been one to pay that sort of thing any mind.

When you enter Tony’s lab and you notice him atop a large iron ladder, trying to reach a vent, you’re wondering why he isn’t using one of his suits to levitate so high that you end up walking right underneath the open ladder.

The weird this is---you notice it, and a weird heavy weight settles in the pit of your stomach because of it.

“That’s bad luck, you know?” Sam tells you as he walks inside as well.

“It’s just a ladder, Wilson.” You try to brush it off but he shrugs his shoulders, and you kind of hate him for telling you that.

“Not what my mom used to say.” He says, but you keep the comeback to yourself this time.

It’s not what Wanda says either, and although you don’t believe in that kind of thing, you’re still aware of superstitions and always try to avoid ‘poking the bear’.

You talk with Tony and leave his lab quickly. It’s not until much later that you remember this particular moment and that damn ladder.

…

The mission was a simple one. Get in, detain the suspects, free the hostages. Simple.

Simple is the furthest from your current situation though.

When you got to the scene earlier, you quickly noticed the swarm of people willing to fight anyone who tried to get in. The odd part about it is---they all seem to be fighting against their will, as if someone’s forcing them, controlling them.

“Something isn’t right.” You speak through your coms, as you press your back against a near wall to catch your breath.

“Talk to me.” Natasha’s voice comes through quickly, but so does another attack.

You barely avoid the iron bar coming to your head, only to come face to face to the guy that’s gripping said bar with trembling hands and tears running down his pale cheeks.

You watch him for a split second, but he’s fighting against what he’s doing and the same feeling that washes over you when you walked inside Tony’s lab makes a comeback.

That damn ladder.

“Something’s not right, Nat.” You respond, avoiding the guy’s attacks again but refusing to attack him back.

He screams, coming at you with more attacks, one after another. Taking pity of him, you take the bar off his hands and slap him across the face. He falls unconscious and you catch his body before it hits the ground to lay him down gently.

“These people are not right.” You tell the team through the coms again, eyes still on the guy that’s on the floor.

You have a terrible feeling.

“I agree. It’s like they don’t want to be here. Someone just apologized to me before attacking.” Sam’s voice comes through, and you decide to leave. Better to leave now, and come back with more information than fighting in the dark like this.

The reports said that you need to stop a group of individuals who are dangerous and seem to be enhanced in some unknown ways, and have been causing mayhem across town. You haven’t seen anyone enhanced so far but that’s not to say that something isn’t right.

“What do we have here?” A voice speaks, making you halt in your step and turn around slowly.

A guy, shorter than you and much more skinny, smiles at you. Involuntary shivers run down your spine at the sight of his creepy smile, but you still assess him.

British accent, in his early forties, purple suit and one hundred percent creepy.

“Who are you?” You ask him but he just smiles, and walks closer to you.

“Drop the mics, darling.” The shot of electricity that runs through you at hearing his command, feels like a bucket of ice cold water dripping down your back.

You do as he says, without resistance and when it’s done, panic begins to build up in the pit of your stomach. You’re terrified.

“What’s happening?” You ask him, your voice an octave higher and he simply smiles.

“No talking on your part for now. I’m going to do the talking, and you’re going to listen. Speak only when I tell you to.” He says and tears spring to your eyes when you realize that you can’t talk, even though you want to. “That’s better.” He smiles.

This is what’s happening here. All these people were ordered by this guy to fight you and now you see it. You need to warn the team, but you don’t know how.

“First of all,” he says as he runs a finger down your jacket clad arm, making you shiver involuntarily. “Take this off, it's way too hot for anyone to be wearing leather.”

Every cell in your body wants to protest at this particular command, but you take off the jacket just like he wants you to and drop it on the ground.

You know that you have to warn the others, you have to fight him, you have to stop him---but you can’t move, you can’t even talk.

“Come over here.” He tells you as he enters a room that leads you down a dark hallway, and you silently follow him.

“Smile, darling. You’re looking way too serious.” He says over his shoulder and you feel your lips rising up on the edges, and you’re smiling so wide that it’s hurting your cheeks but you continue to do it because you have to and that’s all that matters.

Doing what he says it’s all that matters.

“Break this door.” He orders next, when you stand in front of a wooden locked door and without a question you kick it open for him.

“You remind me of someone.” He says with a bit of melancholy in his tone but when he catches sight of your face, he grimaces and flinches back. “Stop smiling now, you’re creeping me out.” He laughs, and you stop immediately.

“You’re an Avenger, right?” He asks as he guides you down some stairs. “I saw the mighty Captain before I found you all alone in those stairs. Lucky me. Answer.”

“I’m a Winter Soldier.” You answer, and he claps his hands in delight.

“Oh, this is fantastic! You and I are gonna have so much fun together. Yes, we will!”

He guides you to an underground parking lot and then hands you the keys of a car before getting in the passenger seat, and you follow suit.

“Be a darling and drive us out of this mess, would you?” He says offhandedly, bored, and you turn on the engine before backing up.

You drive away from the building and your team doesn’t notice, no one is following you and you want to ask him what will happen with the people he's leaving behind but you still can’t talk freely.

“Take me somewhere safe.” He says after five minutes on the road, and you immediately think of safe houses. “A place where the Avengers won’t find us.” He clarifies and you nod at him.

Pictures of places where the Avengers would never find you pop in you head at his request, and you turn the car around. He smiles, a look you can’t comprehend passing through his eyes, and then your cell phone rings.

“Who is calling you?” He asks as you retrieve your phone promptly, you see the picture of your girlfriend on the screen and your vision becomes a bit blurry around the edges with the blink of your eyes.

“My girlfriend.” You tell him and he takes the phone from you, studies the picture for a hot second and then gives it back to you.

“Answer. Tell her that you’ve taken another route back. Tell her you’re okay and that you’ll see her soon.”

Something within you wants to fight back but you slide your fingers across the screen to answer anyway, because you need to do as he says.

“Hey, babe.” You answer casually.

“Where are you? Are you okay?” Wanda asks, sounding agitated. “Your coms are down.”

“I’m okay. I’m taking another route back to the Compound.” You tell her, the lie falling easily off your lips and you feel sick to your stomach.

“Why? What happened?” Wanda asks and you can hear the worry in her voice but you need to say what he told you to say, nothing else matters.

“I’m okay. I’ll see you soon.” You end the call at once and the man smiles at you, and when he stretches out his hand you place your phone on the palm of his hand willingly.

He doesn’t speak for the rest of the ride but you feel him watching you, and you can’t resist him at all even though somewhere in the back of your mind you know that you need to.

When you arrive at a place that you know he’ll be alright, he takes a deep breath before sitting at the head of the dining table, as if this has always been a place known to him and you are an old friend.

“Come, sit with me.” You sit to his right and with a finger on his lips he seems to be deep in thought.

You’re shaking, afraid out of your mind because the more time you spend with him the more you realize that nothing else matters to you.

Still, you try to resist the urge.

“Why were the Avengers there today?” He asks after a beat.

“We were asked to help by the local police.”

“Do they know of me?” He asks and you shake your head. “That’s grand. That’s fantastic! Now!” He claps his hands again, his smile never wavering. “A Winter Soldier, you said?”

“Yes.”

“That makes you just as strong as Captain America.”

“Yes.”

“Just as lethal as good old Barnes, right?”

“Yes.”

Your head is fuzzy, like you can’t think of anything else besides this man and his words.

“I want you to kill them all.” He says and your head spins, but you don’t know why. All you know is that you need to do as he asks. “I want you to kill all the Avengers and when that’s done I need you back here with me. I have plans for us.”

…

You secure the safe house before you leave. You know exactly where to find the Avengers, you know exactly how to kill them all and you have an order.

You ditch your car a mile away from the Compound, and you make your way inside without any resistance. You know this place like the back of your hand after all.

You could just walk through the front door, you realize, but the rifle in your hand would be too suspicious to not raise any alarms. You need them dead, and you need them dead quickly so you can go back to that man.

You have so many options to take them out, so many ways that they won’t even see coming.

Groaning to yourself, you keep on walking, trying to ignore why there’s a knot around your throat or why the thought of killing these Avengers pains you so. All you know is that you have an order and you need to fulfill it, you need to do as he asked.

Nothing else matters.

You could wait for everyone to go to bed first, but Friday would send an alarm to everyone the moment it recognizes that it’s being hacked and you can’t be found out just yet. You’ll do this without hacking into Friday, it seems.

…

You place bombs on every getaway route and wait. The moment the bombs go off, you know Friday will lock them in, activating security protocols.

When the bombs go off, and everyone tries to run out you’re waiting at the perfect spot for them.

Sam is the first one to run out. He breaks one of the large windows in the common room, but he doesn’t make it further. You put a bullet in his shoulder, on the only blank spot of his suit just as he’s about to take off flying.

He falls backwards with force and you curse under your breath. The bullet should have gone into his head, that was the right thing to do. Now he’s injured and in the blue.

Kill them, he said.

You have a clear shot to his jugular and you shoot.

The bullet ricochetes off Captain America’s shield, who just came out through the same window to his help. You instantly try to point at the new target, but Steve throws his shield at you in a split second.

Rolling backwards, you barely avoid being hit by his shield. Not missing a beat you get ready to shoot again but the look on Steve’s face makes you take a stop.

“What?” He asks himself, confused. You shake your head, fighting against the cloud of fogginess that’s taking over your vision and the ripping pain that threatens to break you from the inside out.

Throwing the rifle to the ground, you decide to jump down and meet them halfway but not before checking your chest for wounds. This pain---this pain feels too real to be anything other than physical.

You don’t know what’s happening anymore. You just know that you need them dead. You need to do as the man said.

“What is happening?” Wanda asks, finally making an appearance and your eyes meet hers across the yard.

You want to go to her---but she’s an Avenger.

“She did this.” Steve tells her and you take a deep breath. You need them dead, you need them all dead.

Not waiting another second, you leap for him, punching him in the jaw before he can see you coming. You need him dead, you just need the Avengers dead. That’s all you know, that’s all you need to do.

Steve fights back, although still confused and reluctant to do so. When he punches you in the jaw, something crosses your mind, recognition.

He punches you again, making you take several steps back. You need them dead, don’t you?

Looking up, you catch sight of your own reflection in one of the larger windows and you become so dizzy that you almost lose your balance where you stand.

What are you doing?

“Why are you doing this? You have to stop!” Steve tells you but you’re staring at your reflection because you’re crying, and your tears seem to expand the pain in your chest---your chest that isn’t injured.

“I have to kill you.” You tell him as you turn around to face him one more time.

Steve frowns, blood dripping down the side of his mouth where you punched him before. The need to scream overtakes you, even more so when you see Sam bleeding out on the ground and Wanda---Wanda who doesn’t seem to be able to move, too confused by what you’re doing.

You see her in your peripheral vision a second too late. Natasha comes at you from the shadows, and she’s hard to pin down.

One of her bites hit you in the back, making you fall to your knees, the electricity of it making you grow in pain. Not that it’s enough to keep you down, and she knows it.

Next, she jumps on your shoulders with one of her signature moves but you’re ready for her this time around. You grab her hair in a tight grip around your fist and pull her forward with all your strenght.

Her back hits the ground hard and you’re so worked up, that you go after her without a pause. You raise your boot clad foot to stomp on her face but someone pulls you back, making you stumble before you realize who’s come to Natasha’s rescue.

Steve looks pained, his lip has swollen and you can’t seem to shake the look of Natasha’s terrified expression off your head.

You need them dead. You just need them dead. You need to do as he said.

Attacking Steve for a second time is far easier, you know him and you know his weak spots. He grows tired after only a few minutes, as if he’s no match for you at all, and you know you can finish him.

You almost have him, you can do this fast and you can be back to the man before midnight. You need to get back to him because he has plans.

Bleeding and tired yourself, you manage to get a hold of his shield. You can taste blood on your tongue, tears running down your cheeks and you’re about to finally end him.

He’s on the ground and you can end him with one hit of his own shield---one single blow and he’ll be dead. You have to.

“No.” A voice echoes in your ears, inside your head---it vibrates all throughout your body, you feel it in your veins.

“No.” The voice says again, cutting through the fogginess of your brain like a well sharpened knife, and the pain is unbearable.

“Stop!” You scream, as you let go of the shield and you fall to the ground, hands on your head and rolling on the grass.

The pain is blinding---it feels like your head is splitting in half. You can’t take it.

“Darling, you need to stop.” The voice says and you scream louder, unable to take the pain that comes with that voice. It’s scrambling your brain, you can feel it.

“Please.” The voice begs, broken and strained.

“Stop!” You scream back, finally recognizing the voice.

You have to kill them. You have to kill them, that’s all that matters.

“He’s controlling you.” Wanda says, still in your head, her voice resonating only for your ears.

But you need to go back to him, you need them dead. He’s waiting for you.

“No, you don’t.” Wanda says, replying to your thoughts. “You don’t need to go back to him. You need to be here. With me. With us. We’re your family.”

Screaming, your voice carries out as you punch the ground so hard that the dirt gives in with the force of your fists.

You can see the forgiveness of your brain slowly lifting, as if it were a drape and someone is finally opening it, letting the light come through.

It takes a moment for it to sink in, but that blinding need to do as the man told you to do, still palpates within you, although not as strong.

You catch sight of Steve, bleeding on the floor where you left him. His face is bloody, his left eye shut closed and swollen---you almost don’t recognize him, and you did that to him.

Your hands are splashed with his blood and dirt, and you’re shaking.

“I need to do this.” You speak out loud. “I need to do this.”

Wanda’s close to you now, tears running down her cheeks as she reaches for you.

You clutch her hands desperately, but she’s firm as she takes your face and forces you to look at her, although you can’t meet her eyes.

“Look at me.” She says but her lips aren’t moving, she’s still in your head. “Look at me.”

Hesitantly, you meet her hazel eyes. She’s so strong right now, stronger than you ever thought possible.

“You have to fight it. You have to fight him out of your mind.” She tells you.

“You don’t understand.” You cry, head shaking as his command unravels through you. “I need to do what he asked me to do. I need to.”

“No.” She fiercely tells you, her hands anchoring you. “Fight him back.” She orders you---and something within you breaks free.

The light pours in and the pain is so devastating that you fall backwards, clutching your head as everything overwhelms you.

You scream until your voice begins to waver, until your head feels as if it’s been chopped off and replaced.

“I can’t.” You cry out when you still need to do as he said, only now you’re aware of it. You know what he asked and you know how wrong it is.

“Listen to me.” Wanda’s voice orders again, and you will yourself to listen. “You’re stronger than this.”

You’re not, you’re really not. You can’t fight this command.

“I love you so much.” Wanda tells you as you try to stay concious. “I love you and I need you to fight him out. Do it.”

“I lo - ” Your voice is hoarse and a sob breaks through your lips when you look at her. “I lo - I love you too.”

She sends you a small smile in return and you focus on the images that she’s putting in your head, images of the two of you together and you let her wander your mind until you inevitably pass out.

…

You wake up with a start, and one hell of a headache. You’re in the medbay and Wanda is sleeping right next to you, her arm firmly wrapped around your middle protectively and you don’t know what to do.

“You kicked our asses.” Natasha casually says from a nearby chair that you didn’t notice before.

Her voice comes accompanied by a wave of guilt that washes over you mercilessly. Especially when you look at her face and catch the fresh bruises adorning it. Bruises that you put there.

Tears rush to your eyes as everything comes back to you, and you can’t get a grip of yourself.

“I’m so sorry.” You cry, begging for her forgiveness. Nat’s quick to walk over to you though, and press her lips on your temple for a few long seconds.

“None of that.” She assures you when she leans back and takes your hand with both of hers. “We tracked your phone. We took precautions and we caught him. He’s on his way to the Rift as we speak. He’ll never get to you, or anyone again.”

You almost bolt out of the bed at hearing that anyone else could have been in close proximity to that man, but Wanda holds you tighter.

“We got him.” She tells you softly and close to your ear, making you cry even harder.

You cry for long minutes that feel like an eternity.

You were a Winter Soldier, you’ve been that kind of slave but back then you didn’t know anything, you didn’t know what you were missing, you didn’t even know who you were.

This man made you a slave while you could still remember your name and the people that you love, he made you go after them and turned your head into a mess in order for you to do what he wanted you to.

“I love you.” Wanda murmurs in your ear again, and again and you hold her just as tight.

If it weren’t for her---you don’t even want to think about what could have happened if it weren’t for her.

You only raise your head when you hear pouring, and you find Liho walking on your legs. He immediately pokes your mouth with his head and your nose throbs in pain, and you remember that Steve broke it.

“They’re okay.” Wanda says, her hand on Liho’s head and her lips pressing fleeting kisses on the corner of your lips, as if she can’t be away from you. “Nothing they can’t recover from.”

“They’ll be fine.” Natasha says offhandedly as she picks up her cat from your chest and you grip Wanda’s arm to keep her close. “I’m gonna take this one up for some food, and I’ll put something together for dinner. Come up in thirty.”

You nod, still a bit uncertain that you deserve her care after what happened but thankful nonetheless.

“Thanks, Nat.” Wanda says for the both of you and then she sits up on the bed, her hands never leaving yours. You watch as she kisses your bruised knuckles, and you love her so much that your breath comes out short.

“I think I knew.” You say and she gives you her entire attention. “When I shot Sam, I knew I should shoot him in the head, but I still shot him in the shoulder.”

“You were struggling. You were fighting him even before I intervened.” She says, leaning down to wipe away your tears and to kiss you softly. You cup her face and return her kiss.

“I could have used the rifle on Stev,e but I didn’t.” You tell her next and she nods, a proud smile on her lips.

“I know.”

“Do you think they’ll forgive me?” You ask her, and she kisses you again.

“There wasn’t a moment when Steve thought that you were doing that on your own.” She tells you and then points to her head, you know she’s telling you the truth because she saw inside of his head. “Sam is slightly disappointed that he didn’t get to kick your ass but he didn’t doubt you either. Neither did Natasha.”

“And you?” You ask, your hand on her shoulder, keeping her close and revealing the weight of her body half on top of yours even if you’re hurting, even if you can still feel Steve’s fists colliding with your ribs.

“I believe in you.” She says, her lips close to yours. “I love you more than anything.”

You pull her closer and kiss her until you can’t take the pain on your nose, and she pulls back with a smile on her lips. You don’t know how you got this lucky, you don’t even know how she made her way into your life or how you made your way into hers.

But God! You love her.

“Thank you.” You tell her as you remember the things that she made you see when you were struggling. She showed you the first time she saw you, the first time she wanted to kiss you, your first kiss, images of you two watching a movie and grocery shopping, small things that pulled you right out of the nightmare you were living.

“You continue to save me.” She frowns at hearing your words and you kiss the palm of her hand. “You came into my life and everything changed.”

“So did you.” She softly says and you smile.

“I love you more than anything too.” You tell her and she kisses you again.

You’ll have to apologize to Steve and Sam, but for now you can just kiss your girlfriend and be grateful that you didn’t do anything that can’t be undone.

Liho jumps on your bed soon after though, a clear sign that Natasha is already waiting for you and you have to follow him to the elevator.

….

#wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #scarlett witch x reader #scarlet witch

456 notes · View notes

rodolfoparras · 1 year

Text

Smoke Sprite

Pairing: Captain Price x Trans Male Reader

WC: ca 7k

Synopsis: Price teaches you how to smoke cigars among other things

Content warning: 18+, • MINORS DNI • dry humping • boot worship • boot grinding • verbal degradation • praise • alluded exhibitionism • Sub! Reader • Dom!Price • reference to afab anatomy (sparsely!) • power dynamics • age gap (no specific age stated but in my head it’s like 10 years between them) • no after care

Stand alone/ part of a series:

A/N: The usual disclaimer: English isn’t my first language so excuse any grammatically incorrect sentences, spelling mistakes, ooc, plot holes… heads up for long sentences as well, who needs proper structure anyway.

First time writing smut too bc at some point we ought to dive into this. Am I right or am I right? Also idk how to do accents, as a non native speaker I have a whole vocab that consist of American and British words and at some point something may sound whack but just rewrite it in your head and enjoy the fic hehe

Also don’t be fooled, you will actually learn about cigars here I did a deep dive for this

Few things were hard to come by when enlisted in the army. One of them being a good night's sleep. It was something you as well as many other soldiers battled with. You’d found that the best way to cope with it was to stay up til your mind was as exhausted as your body and one of the ways you’d make the time pass was by smoking.

That’s how you found yourself sitting on the window sill of the little kitchen provided on base, half way through your third cigarette, wishing your mind would let your body go to bed.

It wasn’t always bad being unable to sleep. Hours you spent awake (albeit against your will) were also sometimes hours you’d felt the most at peace.

Tonight felt like one of those nights and the peace washed over you in waves, so much so you finally felt like you were ready to head to bed.

Just as you’re about to follow through with that thought, a sudden noise at the door catches your attention.

You turn so quickly you almost drop the cigarette you’re smoking, ash falling over you with the motion.

It’s too dark to see the intruder’s face but you’re still able to see how he freezes in place and quickly raises his hand in defense.

“Relax sergeant” the tension leaves your body when you hear the intruder speak. You’d recognize that voice anywhere. It was after all one that was on your mind when you couldn’t sleep. “Didn't mean to scare you, was just gonna get something to drink” His voice sounds husky, he’d probably just woken up from his sleep.

You nod your head, as you go to sit down again, taking another drag of your cigarette as you observe the surprise guest.

His steps are sluggish, head almost dropping as he makes his way over to the fridge and you wonder to yourself if you should turn on some light so he doesn’t trip.

“Don’t know how you can smoke that shit” Price says, somehow managing to express his disdain through his sleep like daze.

You snort at his words before taking another drag of your cigarette, blowing out a cloud of smoke only to watch it disappear again.

“Look who’s talking” you say referring to the cigar that always seemed glued to his hand.

He opens the fridge, seemingly searching for his drink before he takes out a bottle of water. Soon after he makes his way over to the kitchen counter, across from where you’re sitting. The light from outside shines down on him and you can finally see him properly as he leans on the counter and takes a sip of his drink.

He’s dressed in some gray sweatpants and a matching tank top to go with it. It wasn’t an unusual sight per say. Many times he'd complain about running hot easily so he always dresses lightly when he sleeps. However that didn’t mean that you were unaffected by it.

“Seriously they taste like shit and smell bad too”he says before downing the rest of the water.

“I don’t smoke for the taste” you say as your eyes wander from his clothes up to his neck, taking notice of the dog tags on him and the way they’re glistening with the light shining down on them. Your gaze wanders further up, over to where his Adam's Apple lays and how it bobs every time he takes a sip of his drink, until your gaze finally lands on his face. His eyes are half lidded, lips parted and puffy and a flush coats his cheek. It’s clear that he’d just roll out of bed especially with how mussed his hair is. Despite that he looks good, really good actually.

“You should since these will take you out anyway” he says, bottle now discarded on the counter and hands tucked into his pockets.

“Teach me how to smoke cigars then” You say tossing your cigarette out the window before turning in your seat to face him properly.

Price raised an eyebrow at that.

“What? You can’t sleep, I can’t sleep, might as well do something useful here. Teach me how to smoke cigars”

The older man scratches at his beard in thought before seemingly making a decision. With a grunt he signs for you to move over and you do as he says. He sits down next to you, one foot propped on the window sill and the other hanging to the side of it.

Price digs his hand into his left pocket, pulls out a wooden box of something, pops it open before sliding it over to you.

“Take whichever you want, it doesn't matter. You’ll be prepping it anyway”

“Prepping?” You look at him like he’s grown three heads. It's a cigar after all, what is there to prep anyway?

He nudges his head, signaling for you to take one. When you do so, he takes one himself before he closes the box and pockets it again.

“It’s not like a cigarette. You don’t just shove it into your mouth and smoke it. All good things come with preparation and in moderation.”

“Are we still talking about cigars here “ you grin widely as you wiggle your eyebrows suggestively.

Price grunts at your words but doesn’t do much more as he goes into teacher mode.“First thing first, you want to know what you’re working with. That can break or make the experience”

You nod as you look down at the cigar in your hands. However, figuring out what you’re working with wasn’t as easy as it seemed. You’ve smoked for years but cigars were outside of your expertise.

Price must’ve seen the stupefied look on your face because he says “Don’t look at it like that, lad. It’s a cigar not a ticking time bomb“

“Sorry” you say, shifting in your seat as your free hand fiddles with some loose lint from the sweats you’re wearing.

“That’s alright. Let’s start with something familiar, yeah?” he mindlessly strokes his beard, brows furrowed in concentration as he tries to think of how to explain it.

“You lick your cigarettes right? How come you do that?” You’re momentarily stunned by the fact that he’s picked up on this. But his question hits you next and you can’t help but feel embarrassed when you confess.

“Force of habit I guess” you shrug, rubbing at your neck as your eyes wander from him to some random spot on the window sill.

Hey, you’re a smoker not a smoke connoisseur. You don’t know the ins and outs of nicotine.

He sighs heavily and drags his hand down his chin before he speaks “That’s alright.” he says before he goes to explain. “ It's a form of prepping, not really necessary for cigarettes but some smokers do it. However prepping is essentials for cigars”

He then goes on to raise his arm in the air, giving you a clear view of the cigar in his hand.

“First thing first you do a pinch test, it’s pretty simple really. You pinch it between your thumb and point finger. Do not roll it however. If it’s dry it’ll cause unnecessary friction which in turn will cause more tears in the leaf”

He starts to demonstrate the step. You try to focus but your eyes can’t help but wander all over his hands.

Despite the cigar being quite big, it looks something akin to a cigarette in his grip and although he’s got a rather delicate grip on the cigar you know just how rough he can be with his hands. You’ve seen it many times out on the field, and have even imagined what it would be like to be on the receiving end of the treatment. His hands always look so big and strong, dusted in chestnut hair and lined with thick blue veins. You can’t help but think of how pretty they look as he demonstrates the step.

“You still with me, lad?”

You lick your lips, mouth feeling dryer than any tobacco leaf. “Yeah “

“Now do so with yours. Remember just add some light pressure, it doesn’t need much more than that” he says, once again demonstrating the step. You start to feel a pressure in your chest as heats floods from your head down to your feet. You try to focus on his words but they only seem to add to the lightheadedness you’re feeling.

“You listening?” He asks, taking note of your dazed expression.

You only manage a hum in response to his question as you go to follow his instructions. “It shouldn’t crackle since they should be properly humidified anyway but it’s always good to know the basics yeah?” He says when you both notice there’s no crackling to be heard from the cigar in your hands.

“Now we cut it. I keep this baby on me at all times “ Price says before he pulls out a pocket knife.

“There's all types of fancy shit for cutting but the principle is to cut as little as possible rather than the opposite. You just kind of snip it off” he says as he places the knife at the tip and executes the move perfectly.

“Now you try,” he hands it over to you and you can’t help but feel quite confident in this part. The task didn’t seem complicated anyway. But as you go to cut it, it turns out to be much harder than it seemed. The cut is nothing like Price’s. If anything it’s jaggedy and has the tobacco leaves crackling at the tip.

“That’s alright, you can-“

Before he gets the chance to say anything else, you wrap your lips around the tip, allowing your spit to smoothen out any loose pieces.

“Oh- “ you look up at Price only to see him swallow hard.

“That’s a good lad” he says, voice sounding deeper when he speaks “was gonna say to not slobber it down in saliva but you seem to know your thing “

Your face feels hot when you go to respond.“Thanks”

It’s strange- this relationship you got with your captain. At first sight it might seem that you’re the one throwing flirty remarks around here. And he’s the one who acts unphased, or even annoyed at your flirting attempts. But matter of fact is he’s the one making suggestive remarks whether consciously or subconsciously and you’re the one phased by it. You wish you too could be as unphased as him because his recovering time for these types of situations is remarkable, really.

His voice is void of any previous emotion when he goes to speak again “Now to the last part, we light it”

And of course you try to keep with him.

“Never thought we’d get to it” you say, hoping and praying you seem just as unphased as he seems . But you can still feel your face burning and your voice slightly wobbling and the intense look he’s giving you isn’t helping you very much either.

“Hey you wanted me to teach you” Price reminds you with a pointed look.

“Go on please” you gesture dramatically before leaning back in your seat.

“The way you choose to light it will affect the taste. It’s all a matter of preference so to say “

“And how do you like yours to taste?” Your words come out more suggestive than intended and you can hear Price sucking in a sharp breath, head tilting and his eyes boring into yours when he says “I prefer to take my time with things, enjoy it thoroughly, make the most out of it if you know what I mean”

The mood feels different; stirring in a direction that has nothing to do with cigars and everything to do with something else, something-

“You’ll achieve that with a soft flame”

And it's quickly broken again.

Price fishes a box of matches out of his pocket, slides it open and takes a few of them before pocketing it again.

“Always use two matches but don’t be fooled, you can’t hurry the process this is just to ensure the cigar burns even. You with me?”

You nod - maybe a bit too eagerly to show him you’re listening, brows furrowed and lips puckered in concentration and if you’d be focused on someone else you’d see the ghost of a smile on Price’s face.

“You strike the matches and tilt them downwards, then rotate your cigar around the them “

“Like a marshmallow ” the words slip mindlessly out of your mouth and his eyes widen in surprise before he laughs.

You feel the tip of your ears go red but smile at what he says next “Fuckin’ hell, sure like a marshmallow “

Instead of saying something else that would result in making a bigger fool of yourself, you choose to do as he says.

You take two matches from him and attempt to strike them.

However it feels like the universe is on a mission to make you seem like the biggest fool because for some reason you can’t light up your match.

After your third failed attempt paired with some curses under your breath Price decides to offer you some help.

He leaves his place on the window sill, and leaves his cigar in the ashtray to stand behind you instead. But just as he does it, you manage to light them yourself. However for some reason he chooses not to go back to his seat.

“Like that,” you hear him before you see him, and smell his cologne behind the clouds of smoke.

You try to keep your focus as you slowly rotate the cigar in your hands

“Good lad you’re doing so good,” the words make you feel like a match ignited, burning from your head down to your toes.

“Is it done?” You don’t know what you’re asking about- the lessons or the torture he’s unknowingly putting you through.

“Ever heard of the word patience, kid?“ he chides and if it weren’t for your close proximity making you feel all funny you’d say something to him.

“Just one more round of matches and you’re good to go yeah?” His voice is gruff and breathy when he speaks, almost akin to the tone he uses when he gives commands on the field. You feel the wisps of hair from his beard brushing across your ear and the heat from the close proximity of your bodies. You chose to nod in response, opting to bite your tongue in fear of saying something you might regret later on.

Soon you find yourself with a lit cigar in your hands.

“There now to the last step” the heat quickly disappears as a gust of cold wind creeps onto your skin and you’re sure it’s not because of the open window but rather from the space between your bodies as he goes back to his own seat.

“The most important rule of smoking- if you’re to remember anything out of this- is to not inhale it but rather take a light drag. Your body and your lungs will be thankful for sparing them, see it as something you slosh around in your mouth rather than shove down your windpipe”

You raise a brow at his choice of words.

“I am not the best teacher, “ he shrugs before picking up his cigar again.

He puts it between his lips and takes a light drag of it and you can’t help but think that he looks attractive doing it.

You never thought smoking was attractive. You smoked to ease your nerves and couldn’t wrap your head around what would be so attractive about a little nicotine stick and the awful smell that came along with it. But looking at him now with his eyelids hanging low, head tilted to the side as he exhales the smoke, you finally understand why people thought so. Especially now, with his Adam’s apple on show, dog tags gleaming behind the clouds of smoke and his toned arms flexing every time he goes to take another drag of the cigar.

“You do the most work in the beginning until you see white smoke. That’s how you know it’s properly lit and you can actually start to enjoy it“ Price’s voice sounds stern when he speaks; like a knowledgeable teacher sharing information to his interested students. And you sure were interested: in more ways than one.

“Most work in the beginning huh?” You grin wolfishly at him.

“You pull a lot of jokes, kid “ he chuckles as he continuously spins the cigar in his hand.

Kid. Your nose scrunches at the word “Not a kid and who said it’s a joke?”

He doesn’t say anything. Instead he tilts his head and rubs his beard as if mulling over something before speaking again.

“You try now”

You nod your head as you attempt to focus on the task at hand. But it isn’t easy, your eyes flicker from his fingers, to his lips, to the way he sits leaned back in his seat with smoke surrounding him.

Before you know it you’re inhaling the cigar, doing the complete opposite of what he told you and within seconds you feel the smoke hitting you all at once; blurring your vision and sending you into a coughing fit.

“I told you not to inhale it” he tuts as he leans over to take the cigar from your hands before he goes to pat your back “damn shame you seemed so good at following directions, what happened?”

You try to speak but the burning sensation in your throat cuts you off. His hand is once again on your back rubbing up and down aimlessly before he suddenly gets up and you instinctively grab onto him “I’m just going to get something to drink” he says, repeating his words from before and you nod, allowing him to do so.

“Here” he says a moment later, pressing a cold water bottle against your cheek.

You flinch away from the cold sensation, but grab it anyway, downing more than half the bottle within seconds.

“Take it easy or you’ll choke again, boy”

Despite the advice you find yourself unable to slow down and you down the rest like a man parched.

He chuckles at your actions and grabs hold of your chin, turning your head to face him.

“That good?” He asks, eyes shining with both hints of worry and amusement.

You nod in response feeling heat creep up your neck and ears. The feeling intensifies when his thumb swipes across your bottom lip, wiping off any remaining liquid before he pops it in his mouth to lick it off of him.

“I - I can do better” you croak out, still trying to catch your breath.

“What’s that boy?”

You clear your throat and take a deep breath, braving yourself to speak “I meant what I said I can do it, let me try again”

His gaze shifts between your eyes and your lips, seemingly making a decision when he goes to speak.

“Alright, come here “ he says before he goes back to his seat on the window sill, cigar tucked back between his lips, and with smoke surrounding him. He looks delectable to say the least.

As if it were a reflex your body complies to his request, shuffling over to sit closer to him.

You can feel your knees brushing, smell the scent of his cologne mixing with the cloud of smoke, can even see each and every eyelash on his eye along with the gray hairs sprinkled across his chestnut beard.

You thought you couldn’t get any closer than this but suddenly he leans further in and your eyes go wide as you watch him. His hand goes to your head, strokes your hair, and brushes back any loose strands or flies aways before it glides across your cheeks, until finally stopping at your lips.

“Open up, now” he says, one hand under your chin and the other tapping his cigar against your lips.

“Lets try this again, yeah? You did so well, don't want the lesson to go to waste” You hum in response, parting your lips before wrapping them around the cigar. However you don’t take a drag. Instead you await his command.

“Remember gently, no need to put much effort into it, yeah?”

You nod as you put all your focus into doing as he says and finally you manage to take a proper drag of it, enough to taste it and enough to blow it out properly as well.

“Good lad. I knew you could do it “ the look of pride on his face along with his words goes straight to your head. Like the cat that got the cream, you think to yourself.

You go to take another drag of it and as you do he places his hand on the small of your back, soothingly rubbing up and down the length of it. You try to focus on the cigar rather than his touch because you fear that in itself will send you into a coughing fit. But it’s hard to stay focused on the cigar when his hand leaves the small of your back and makes its way up to your neck instead. You’re just about to blow out the smoke when his hand wraps around your neck and gently squeezes it.

You part your lips in surprise and as you do so smoke leaves your mouth, coming out in little circles that quickly dissipate in the air. Your eyes widen at your little trick and he just chuckles at your reaction, before releasing his grip completely and leaning back a bit.

“Little trick I learnt “ he says innocently, shrugging even before he clears his throat, eyes avoidant of your own but manages a thank you when you pass the cigar back to him.

A rather awkward silence falls over you two as you try to process what happened. Price’s hand around your neck- the shy reaction you got from it- the fact that he knew this trick in the first place. It all hangs in the air like clouds of smoke and puts your mind in daze. It’s hard to snap out of it but once you do you wonder if you should say something or move on to the next subject. Looking at him you can clearly see he’s embarrassed about it so you choose to spare him but you also choose to store this moment in your mind for when you’re in desperate need of a replay.

“Gotta give it to you, you were right about the taste. It’s pretty nice actually”

He inhales sharply at that, eyes falling to your lips as he goes to speak “Yeah? Why don’t you describe it to me? Last part of the lesson. Need you to name the flavors ” His hand is now at your thigh, fingertips mindlessly tracing circles onto it and you think it isn’t fair of him. He can clearly see the way your body is reacting to him- to his touches- to his words and he still expects you to function.

You must’ve taken too long to respond because Price’s hand squeezes your thigh in warning “Sergeant”

“Creamy- it tastes creamy sir “ you stumble over your words but still manage to get out a response.

He hums in response, hand tightening at your thigh before once again squeezing it to get your attention. “Anything else? Any specific flavor you can name. Go on, take another drag of it“ he says before passing the cigar back to you. For once you’re thankful that your body reacts so easily to his commands. Your head’s far too gone at this point to be able to give your body instructions.

You take another drag of the cigar, allowing the smoke to coat your tongue before exhaling it. There’s a rich sweetness accompanied with a certain bitterness dancing across your taste buds “Coffee tastes like coffee sir- maybe even hits of almond as well?” you say through batted lashes, eagerly awaiting his response.

“Correct. My favorite” he hums in approval.“You’re a quick learner,huh?” The phrase like the cat that got the cream rings through your head again but this time you couldn’t care less. This time you'd gladly accept it. You’d gladly be the cat and you’d gladly take all the cream especially if it was -

Price grabs you by the collar of your shirt and pulls you close. “You know what else is good to learn? “

You gasp at the sudden motion and instinctively grab onto him, one hand at his arm, the other barely holding onto the cigar. His voice is dangerously low and breathy and the way his hot breath washes over your neck raises goosebumps all over your body.

You can even feel the tell tale sign of his thick mustache brush up against your neck as he goes to say “subtlety, my boy”

There’s little to no space between your bodies. He’s so close to you that you can hear his gruff voice forming the words at the back of his throat, and feel how they vibrate against his chest as he speaks them. Yet you ache to be closer so you grip tighter onto him and press your body closer to his.

“You were fidgeting around in your seat and barely paying attention to what I was saying. I almost thought you were getting bored of the lesson but that can’t be right now can it? ”

It's no longer wisps of mustache hair brushing against your neck but rather a full beard trailing up to the spot behind your ear. And every time he goes to speak, it brushes relentlessly against the skin, leaving burn marks behind him.

“No- no sir. I’m very eager to learn” your mind’s starting to feel hazy, your breath’s quickening and you can’t help but tighten your grip on him, nails sinking into supple skin. You hear him wince but can’t bring yourself to care nor to loosen your grip.

There's a nagging voice at the back of your head telling you this is just a wet dream or even worse a hallucination as you lay bleeding out on a field. So to silence it you tighten your hold on him, hoping and praying you aren’t just imaging him.

However he seems very much real because his arm feels firm and flexes under your tight grip. Every time you go to take a breath you smell the scent of smoke and cologne that seem to follow him and all you can see is his broad back and the small curls at the back of his neck.

“Mm eager you say '' His accent is much thicker now, desire coating his tongue and slurring his words and his tone is playful like you’ve never heard it be before. All of a sudden you feel his fingers at the back of your head, fingers burrowing into the thick mane of hair before he pulls your head up to face him.

“I expect a response when I speak sergeant “ he says, tugging at your hair in warning.

You whimper at the sting, eyes batting up at him as you go to respond to him “Y- yes sir I’m very eager to learn”

Price looks at you with half lidded eyes and with an arrogant smile across his lips as he goes to cup your cheek. “I suppose someone so eager wouldn’t have any issues repeating the steps we learned today”

“No sir” you manage to spurt out a response as you lean into his touch.

“That’s a good boy” he says as his thumb caresses your cheek. “So good for me, yeah?” His voice almost sounds like the one he uses on the field when he goes to praise his team, except this one is just a bit lower, more breathier and wraps around endearments only meant for your ears.

“How about this,” he begins to say, hand slipping from your cheek, trailing down to your neck and landing on your shoulder. He takes his time to straighten the collar before he speaks again

“if you can tell me all the steps we went through today” he trails off once again as both of his hands slide down the length of your arms before finally stopping at your thighs where they rub soothing circles onto them. “I’ll reward you for it “

“Only if you want to, of course” he says, as he goes to take his hands off your thighs.

“Oh I want to ” you say hurriedly as you grab onto his hand to keep them in place.” A lot, actually” you add in a shaky tone feeling your face heat up at your own words.

His eyes flare with desire and he takes a sharp breath before he says “Sit back for me yeah? One leg on each side of the window, need you to sit comfortably for this okay?”

You do as he says, one foot on the desert ground and the other one on the wooden floor and you automatically lean back on the window frame to make yourself comfortable.

He on the other hand, has one boot clad foot propped on the window sill and the other one hanging to the side of, leaning back comfortably.

Your hands are trembling in your lap, fingers still gripping onto the cigar and you can see goosebumps rising on your bare skin but it’s not because of the cool metal pressing against it or because of the howling wind. It's rather something else and Price seems to know the very reason behind it because he says.

“You’re shaking my boy are you nervous about presenting?” He asks in a mocking tone, before he takes the cigar from you and puts it in between his lips. While you’re trembling in your seat he looks as relaxed as ever, leaned back against the wall, arms crossed and with an expectant smile on his lips.

“No-no sir” you respond as you squirm under his expecting gaze.

“Get on with it then” he says sharply and you spring into action.

“The first thing you do is prepare your cigar. That can make or break the experience… “ you trail off as you scramble your brain for what to say next. But your train of thoughts is quickly cut off by a sudden pressure on your left leg.

Price’s foot gently nudges your thigh and once again, as if it were a reflex, your body responds to him; legs spreading further apart, to make more room for him.

Suddenly, he starts tapping his foot impatiently, purposely grazing his boot clad foot against sensitive skin as he waits for you to recite the next step. Despite the sweats you’re wearing, you’re so worked up that every touch feels like he’s grazing bare skin.

“Go on. I didn’t tell you to stop” he warns as he puts a punishing pressure onto your thigh, harsh sole digging into soft skin and you wince at the impact before you speak.

“To check if your cigar is moist you use your thumb and point fingers and squeeze - squeeze it from top to bottom” the air is punched out of your lungs, your words breaking up as the boot moves from your thigh to instead rest directly atop of your dick.

You gasp, fingers grabbing onto the edges of the window sill as your hips buck to get more of the feeling “I’m sorry- I’m sorry sir” you say, feeling embarrassed at your body’s reaction.

However Price doesn’t acknowledge your action nor your words. Instead he decides to raise attention to something else.

“No underwear ?” He asks, taking notice of the wet patch forming on your gray sweats.

“No sir I sleep commando” Price curses under his breath and you feel the pressure increase in between your legs.

“ Of course you fuckin do” he hisses and presses down even harsher, making you jolt at the movement and you just know that the embarrassingly big patch is growing larger by the minute with the way Price grins down at the spot between your legs. And when you look down at yourself you don’t only see the large wet spot on your sweats but you also see soil covered footprints all over it. The mess in between your legs shouldn’t turn you on but the sheer sight of it makes you whimper and buck your hips.

“What’s the next step?”

You go to respond but end up choking on your words when you feel the fabric of your sweats slip between your folds and push directly up against your sensitive clit. He even goes to rock his foot side to side, boot continuously assaulting your sensitive numb.

“What’s gotten your little cock so excited you can’t even speak?”

You whimper at his words, eyes squeezing shut as you lose yourself in the pleasure. “You’re being mean sir”

“Mean?” he asks, voice dripping in faux concern but never once letting up on his torturous movements. “I’m just trying to reward you here. You want your reward, don’t you?”

You nod frantically as you buck your hips up at him. All of a sudden he ceases any and all movements and you snap your eyes open up to look at him.

He raises a brow at you with a wolfish grin on his lips. You blink up at him for a moment, before it clicks; he wants you to work for it.

You almost huff at the realization. Nonetheless you adjust in your seat, hands propping behind your back as you bend at your knees before you gently start to rock your hips: his boot once again hitting your sensitive clit.

“We - we cut it. Not too much though, just the tip” you manage to get out the words before you break off into moans. You don’t realize how loud you’re being until he shushes you. It’s only then you realize that someone else can see or even worse hear you two.

“What if- what if someone sees us sir?” You ask but never once letting up on your movements.

It takes a while for Price to respond, too entranced with the sight in front of him, leaned back in his seat, arms crossed and cigar between his lips. You can barely see his face from the smoke surrounding him but the way his chest is rising and falling at a rapid beat and the way the cigar is shaking in his grip you know he is enjoying your performance.

Truth be told you don’t even know if he heard you in the first place but when you go speak again he says “No one will see anything I promise” he says in reassurance.”Everyone’s fast asleep and if someone even tries to look or listen I’ll teach them to mind their own fuckin business. “

With that you turn your attention back to chasing your high, this time uncaring about who can see or hear as you lose yourself in the pleasure.

However your attention is brought back to him once again when he says “But maybe you’d like them to?” He says, voice sounding thick and gruff. You snap your head towards him only to see him glowering down at you with desire swirling in his blue irises and a playful smile at his lips.

You know he’s just entering the thought of it, he wouldn’t do anything you weren’t comfortable with. And you can see his gaze switching from your face to your body to gauge your reaction. And he must see the positive reaction your body gives because he continues “you’d like for them to see how pretty you look all worked up for me? Maybe even jerk themselves off to you? Can't blame them if they did. You look too good like this” you can only moan in response as he continues to talk “maybe you’d even want them to join us. One cock isn’t enough for you. A slut like you needs to get all your holes stuffed to be happy isn’t that right?”

Your pace increases at his words as you lose yourself to the pleasure. But you’re quickly brought back to the present when he says “What’s the next step sergeant?“

You blink back the haze, as you try to scramble your brain for what to say next.

“Next you light it - you need two” at this point you’re just spurting out nonesene, too busy chasing your pleasure.

Although his boot does hit your clit, many times - due to your fast paced beat- it’ll miss, aim too clumsy and messy to reach it. It doesn’t take long for you to make the decision to latch one hand onto his leg, the other making sure to support your weight as you adjust his foot so that the tip of his boot hits your clit every time you rock against it.

You know you’re putting on a show for anyone who might hear or see; legs spread wide apart, arousal and mud covering your sweats as you desperately cling onto Price’s leg and moaning desperately. However you can’t find it in yourself to care, can’t focus on anything other than the pleasure coiling between your legs.

You look up at Price through half lidded eyes and mouth agape only to see a similar expression on his face.

“Jesus, look at you grinding on me like a bitch in heat, you enjoying this hm?”

“Yes yes sir, enjoy it so much” At this point you're slurring your words, mouth agape and eyes squeezed shut as you focus on nothing else but the heat growing in your core.

Your heels dig further into the floor, knees cramping from the awkward position and arms aching from supporting your weight for so long. But you refuse to let up on your pace. You’re so close to the finish line you can almost taste it.

“Almost there” you warn him before your mind’s too far gone to say something.

“Then you better explain the last step or there will be none of it, sergeant “ he says as he squeezes your thigh in warning.

“Yes sir” you groan out before you will yourself to speak again “you puff it - you do the most work in the beginning until-“ you don’t get to finish your sentence before you’re cut off by your own moan.

“until what sergeant?” Is the last thing you hear before you lose focus of your surroundings, eyes squeezed shut and mouth agape as you chase your high on Price’s boot.

“Until - until - it starts working by-. “ is all you manage to get out before you’re cumming- stumbling over the finish line with your back arched and with a cry of victory.

You don’t even get to warn him before you’re falling back in your seat, arms giving out and legs losing their footing. As you do so the boot accidentally rubs against your clit and for the first time since you ended up in this situation you jerk back from the friction, dick too sensitive.

You end up leaning against your elbow, window frame uncomfortably pressed against your spine and Price’s hands on your thighs keeping you from falling straight to the ground.

“You alright?” Price asks after a moment of silence and you feel his hand on your thigh again, rubbing soothing circles on them.

You hum in response, still lost in bliss and he chuckles as he gives you a moment to come down from it.

Once you do, you flutter your eyes open and smile lazily at him.

“Good job my boy, you did so well”

“Thank you, sir” your face burns as you respond. him and the phrase like the cat that got the cream rings through your head once again.

Suddenly you see Price’s brows furrow, tongue poking past his lips as he looks down at his feet.

“Looks like you left a stain there” he says as nonchalantly as possible and points to his soiled boot “could you clean it up for me please?”

Your eyes flash in surprise and for a moment the words hang in the air.

But as quickly as they came, the words dissipate leaving a haze behind that seems to take over your brain.

“Of - of course, sir “ you say as you scurry out of your seat but before you can get any further he stops you with his foot, firmly pressing it against your chest “with your tongue sergeant “

You suck in a breath and you can feel your dick twitch in your soiled sweats.

“Yes sir”

You lean in so that you’re face to face with the boot he’s wearing. It’s a simple black boot, worn out from everything it’s been through but there’s one spot on top of it that shines like it’s been newly polished. It’s the very same spot you zoom in on, tongue poking past your lips as you trace a path from the very bottom up to the top of it.

You feel the soft leather scrape against your tongue as the familiar taste dances across your tastebuds. And every time you go to lick the boot your nose brushes against the leather and you smell yourself on it. Despite the work you put into cleaning it you know you’ve ruined the spot with your arousal and instead of feeling bad about it you can’t help but moan at the fact that he can’t hide the evidence of the event that had transpired. You give it one last lick before you kiss the boot and smile at him.

He curses under his breath, a mix of swear words accompanied with your name leaving his lips and your grin widens as you sit up again.

“Enjoy the rest of your night, kid” he says all of sudden, patting your thigh lightly before jumping to his feet. “When you’re ready to put out the cigar, just let it rest on the ashtray, it’ll put itself out that way” he says as he shows how to do it with his very own cigar before making his way over to the door.

Within seconds you’re up on your feet, moving on wobbly legs you almost fall back on the window sill.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“Lesson’s over” he says simply before looking down at the watch on his wrist “and I’m old and need my rest. “ He looks away from his watch to the mess between your legs.

“Besides, you need to get cleaned up. See you tomorrow, kid” he says with a wink as he leaves.

“See you tomorrow” you say into the now empty room, chuckling in disbelief as you plop yourself back down on the window sill. You’re a sticky mess and should probably go shower but instead you take a drag of your cigar before you say “This man’s truly something else”

#captain john price #john price #captain john price x reader #John price x reader #captain John price x male reader #cod #cod x Reader #cod x male Reader #Alec writes #idc if there are any mistakes I’ve been editing this for so long I’m so tired of it fjdjfjfjf #anyway

456 notes · View notes