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#if you look closely you can see that this means a new part of next to you is imminent
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things about about TSC I can't stop thinking about
"hindsight was a backstabbing bitch"
curtains symbolizing jeans healing journey, how he keeps them closed at Abby's in a effort to recreate the nest in search of some normalcy, how he opens them and looks out the window his new apartment, seeking calm in his overwhelm
"I want to go home" (13) meaning evermore vs. "I want to go home" (329) meaning to his apartment with Laila, Cat and jeremy
the fact that jean's phone is probably still in Abby's freezer
Kevin "their kindness matters" Day
Neil's smile is as unsettling to everyone else as it is to him and he has so much more Nathaniel in him than he recognizes in his own pov
Jean is so similar to neil in that they're both petty, dramatic bitches who care deeply about their teammates' safety
riko and the ravens quite literally took jean's name from him (Jean-Yves, Jonny, Paris)
"[Renee's] love was so tender it looked like grief as it curled her mouth and made her eyes shine"
jean gets forehead kisses from Renee and Cat
"that creepy little goalkeeper Andrew Minyard"
jean's many nicknames for neil: tiny bastard, tedious malcontent, abominable cockroach, wretched little runaway, ignorant child, etc.
Neil took the bandage off of jeans 3 and promptly stuck it over Kevin's chess peice
"I should have let him kill you," Jean said. "Probably," Neil agreed, "but you didn't, so here we all are."
"...aside from his outstanding murder charge, there was nothing interesting about that fox"
the fact that the point of tfc was to show characters who couldn't/wouldn't/ or were unable to heal from the trauma they had faced and yet from the very beginning and without question, TSC is about jean clawing his way forward and toward healing no matter what
the cheese drawer
dadmack dialed up to 1,000 See: "i will burn this house down before I let them touch you"
bisexual jean Moreau panicking over his teammates in swimsuits and Jeremy's long legs
"He's earned the right to be arrogant"
riko couldn't bring himself to hurt wymack because he was Kevin's father and Kevin was like a brother to riko and riko has always yearned for a father's recognition
Alvarez has a motorcycle and jean didn't say no to learning how to ride it
we know next to nothing about Jeremy Knox despite having chapters in his pov (why was he in therapy? why was his dad in France? what the hell did he do at the Fall banquet his freshman year to tear his family in half?)
that being said: Jeremy Knox is a rich boy with a butler
everything about Catalina Alverez
the fact that Jeremy knox has two brothers and one of them is probably dead
"rather than force the Trojans underground for that part, they simply built steps up and over it inside the stadium" the JUXTAPOSITION
Alvarez cooks and so now does jean
we know for a fact riko subjected Kevin to "subtler cruelties" while he was in the nest
"they never should have said yes when you asked" and "I didn't ask"
"as if you can tell a girl apart from a cow on a good day"
"permission to break his face, coach?" jean asked. "denied," white said.
all of thanksgiving pt. II
"alarm looked wrong on a face born for smiling"
jean casually saying "your apologies are as useful as perfume on a frog" to Lucas
Neil's whole relationship with Jean
David "I believe we all have the choice to be better than the hands that shaped us" Wymack
Neil generally being a menace to society but especially "Neil, being the person he was, pointed at the fire hydrant adjacent to it's front bumper and said, 'thats illegal, just so you know.'"
"the cracking heat in his chest could have been his ribs snapping or his heart breaking"
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myrunawaysweets · 3 days
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I loved your recent post abt human Alastor x reader in the 1920s. Of course this is only a suggestion, what if you continued on with this? Maybe like having them move in with each other, start a family? Perhaps have a tragic ending that resulted both to go to Hell, or maybe reader be a fallen angel! Just all suggestions! Have a great day/night/evening<3
I dont know how long this was in here, I was scrolling through settings to mess around and found this, so I hope you didn't wait too long!
But this is one of my specialties and I'm honestly really flattered that you made a request!
The next day, the cops found a bloodied body in the alley beside the club. The corpse was too disfigured to recognize, knees bashed in backwards, jaw hanging loosely, ribs tearing out of the chest and a smile etched into the poor bloodied face as it hung on the wall.
Surely this was the work of the smiling killer in New Orleans, who else could it be?
No one had ever laid eyes on the killer and lived to tell the tale... except you.
You had been held by the psychopath in a loving embrace, wrapped up in a blanket on his couch.
For some reason, when you looked into this man's eyes, his gorgeous brown eyes as he softly smiled at you... you felt no fear, no urge to run or hide.
Yes you knew he had killed people, that he was no better than a monster... yet you couldn't help but think what made him this way. Everyone knows not to trust a bad apple, but not everyone suspects the tree that bears bad fruit... so you couldn't blame him, after all, why would you blame the apple for the trees wrongdoing.
Instead, you held onto him and stuck close.
Now you peacefully kneaded dough as your loving boyfriend drank his bitter coffee in your bakery as a customer walked in. Marjorie, a nice old lady who came by every second day for a box of beignettes.
"(Y/n)! Have you heard the news?"
You looked up from your dough, flour had stuck to your apron as you wiped your hands "What news, ma'am?"
"Theres been another murder!" As the words left her lips you could see alastor tense up as you studied him.
The poor lady was shaking as she opened her purse "it was a young fellow around your age! He had such a long life ahead of him too..."
You could see alastors hands shakily lift his cup to his lips.
"What a terrible thing! Here, have these on the house, as a thank you for your patronage" you smiled, handing her the box and pushing her change back towards her gently.
The lady smiled with a thank you before turning to leave.
"Say hello to Mr Broussard for me will you?" You waved at her as she closed the door.
As soon as the door closed you slammed the oven shut with the bread inside.
"ALASTOR HARTFELT!"
The coffee spewed from his lips as he stood up to face you "honey listen-"
"Don't you 'honey' me! You promised you'd stop this!" You placed your apron on the counter as you circled around to meet him at the cashier "You said you were out to go hunting!" You poked his chest as you cornered him.
"(Y/n) it wasn't a lie! I was hunting! For the scum of the earth!" Alastor held his hands up in defense from your accusations, trying to reason with you and get back onto your good side.
"You know damn well what I think of your little hunting!" You grabbed your purse and started for the door before he blocked your path.
"(Y/n), dearest, where are you going?" His smile could not hide the panic in his eyes.
"Away from you, I'll be at mimzys until you can decide which one you'd prefer to give up "you pushed him aside and opened the door "me? Or your little 'huntin'?" You slammed the door as you walked to mimzys club.
Just because you didn't care that he did the murders before, didn't mean you were okay with him continuing them. Part of you thought you could eventually get him to see the good in the world again and leave behind this cold blooded killing, he loved you enough to do that at least right? Then maybe when you two grow old and wrinkly, God could open the golden gates for both of you... if your foolish boyfriend could ever stop hurting innocent people...
You sat on the stool with mimzy, drinking a glass of wine.
"I just don't get it! How can he keep choosing to go 'hunting' almost every night, mimz?! Doesn't he see the danger?" You sighed.
The short blonde looked at you "what can I say dollface? Boys will be boys! They've gotta have some sort of hobby, an most of the time, it's a gruesome one! Why can't they just take up knittin or even painting? Always hunting or boxing I say" mimzy took a swig "and every night? That's harsh! Doesn't he see how pretty you are?"
The two of you giggled.
Nights like these were always nice, just you and mimzy sitting in the empty bar, drinking and talking the night away.
"At this point mimzy, I think its better for me to just stay alone though, it doesn't seem like he's changing anytime soon and I don't know how long I can take this" you looked down at the glass, running your finger along the brim...
"Its okay girly" mimzy rested her hand on your shoulder "I'm sure he'll come around eventually, either way, I'm here for ya"
She really was one of your best friends.
Your conversation was interrupted when you heard a slight creak in the floorboards behind you two, making you turn around.
"This place is really getting old, I'm gonna need to find a way to get a new place" mimzy sighed.
The night went by fast as you two talked, and before you know it, you were right back in front of your bakery, sign lights were off as you opened the door, silently clicking the lock before making your way to the upstairs where your humble abode resided.
Alastor most likely went to blow off some steam, he tended to do that after your arguments/fallout.
You had left in such a hurry that you forgot to take out the bread from the oven, but luckily, alastor had seen you bake many times and finished the loaf before placing it on the cooling rack.
By the time you finished downstairs, it was midnight as you started walking upstairs, exhausted from the days work and alastor fiasco.
When you opened your door, you were met with a nervous Alastor standing straight and tense in front of you.
"I have something to say-" you both said in unison.
Alastor seemed to tremble as the words left your lips, still unable to make eye contact.
"I know it's not very gentlemanly of me, but may I go first?" His words almost came out as a mumble as his smile was strained.
You nodded, indicating he may continue.
"Thank you" Alastor took a shaky breath before looking you in the eyes "darling, I know I haven't made it easy for you with my... hunting... but I promise-"
Anger boiling in your blood, you interrupted him "do you know how many times you've told me that lie, Alastor?" Your nose scrunched up in anger as you tried to hold back tears "how many more times am I going to keep hearing this?"
Alastors wide eyes showed the fear he had of losing you, making your heart ache even more than it already was.
"I promise... my dear, this is the truth" Alastor took a gentle step forward, eyes trained on the ground.
placing your hands in his "I've put a lot of thought into it... and although I don't like the idea of being unable to kill those filthy vermin... I realized i can't live in a world without you in my arms"
Alastor ran his fingers gently over your knuckles, a gentle smile placed on his lips, almost dropping to a frown.
"I can change... and I know you want me to, I'll put in the effort to become the man you want, the man you need..." Alastor lifted your hand to his lips, closing his eyes as he placed a soft kiss.
The anger you felt died down, but still hesitant, you asked "how can I be sure you mean it?"
Finally looking back into your eyes again, he knelt down on one knee, still holding your hands "I, Alastor Hartfelt, would like to ask you, (y/n) (l/n), for your hand in marriage, I swear on my mother's grave that I will never take your words lightly, love you with undying devotion, and never kill again" he then rested his forehead onto your knuckles gently before he desperately whispered "please"
This proposal was not exactly practical, considering your argument not even 6 hours ago. There was no ring, no classy dinner, it wasn't how anyone would imagine a marriage proposal, yet here you were, heart beating rapidly as you felt tears fill your eyes.
Your words felt stuck in your throat as you looked into your lovers eyes "do you mean it?"
For what felt like the first time, Alastors smile dropped as his face held a serious expression "with all my heart, ma' cherie"
Your knees buckled as you fell into his arms, tears streaming down your face as you held your lover tightly, whispering out a shaky "Yes" into his chest.
Months went by, the wedding went off without a hitch.
Mimzy was your maid of honor. No one else was really there for your wedding, considering your family had cut ties with you years ago, and all Alastors' relatives were either deceased or overseas.
Nonetheless it was a happy and joyful union.
Alastor had kept true to his word and never killed another human, kissing your shiny ring every night like a reminding prayer.
Your bakery gained popularity since you were now Mrs Hartfelt. But popularity has its downsides... it wasn't long until women started talking about you, jealous of your position as Alastors wife.
The words themself didn't hurt you much, but the constant harassment and inability to leave the house without being called a harlot, that was slowly getting to you.
Alastor had assured you many nights before bed that things would get better, and if need be, he would give up his career as a radio host. The poor man would do anything for your happiness, anything to assure that you'd stay his forever...Even kill if you'd permit him to.
But there was only so much Alastor could do... it wasn't until one evening when you failed to show up to your shared home that he began to lose it.
Alastor was on edge, thinking of all the possibilities, you could've been held back at the bakery by a man who held ill intentions, you could be checking in with mimzy or got taken by a jealous fan. So many thoughts raced through his head as he slowly made his way to the door to look for you, eventually deciding against it, sitting back down as he patiently waited for your return...
Except you didn't.
It wasn't until a whole sleepless night had passed when he decided to go search for you. But of course, he came home empty handed. Were you unhappy in this marriage? Did you elope with a man he didn't know about? Did you realize you didn't love him and run away?
The second option was to call the police, something he's never done before.
The police launched an investigation, it was only until a month later, you were found in an alleyway, someone had called the cops about a crazy woman attacking a man, the situation escalated to the man killing her in self-defense.
They found traces of drugs in your blood, filing you as a drug abuser.
your body was frail and malnourished, pale like it had been weeks since you last seen the sun.
Alastor was called to the scene to see if this lady was indeed his wife.
When he arrived, he felt like the world was about to open up and swallow him whole.
As his eyes fell onto your pale lifeless body, something snapped inside of him.
You were never one to use drugs, never one to attack someone for no reason... something was wrong.
He knelt down and held your hand with tears in his eyes. Although he had seen many dead bodies in his life, this was the one body he never wanted to see like this.
He hated how your body was treated the same as the trash that walked the earth, like a lowly peasant when instead, the world should weep for the loss of you.
'This is all wrong' he thought, as he cradled your body in his lap as your blood stained his white shirt, but he couldn't care less as the last ray of light left his dark world.
It was long after your funeral, he hasn't been able to sleep since then. Every night he'd wait until daybreak for your arrival, like this was all some twisted joke.
It wasn't until one day he realized you needed revenge.
Yes, he promised to never kill anyone, but that was when you were alive, when you were beside him, when he was able to fall asleep with you by his side every night, Before you were selfishly taken from him.
He hasn't slept in days, maybe weeks? He couldn't remember... all he knew was that the man needed to pay for what he did to you...
It took a while but he eventually found the lying heathen.
There he was, sitting at mimzys bar, the same bar he met you, sitting on the same stool that YOU would sit on... it made Alastor sick watching this man live like he didn't take you away from him.
Alastor walked in, and sat beside the wretched man.
"You seem familiar" Al questioned, sipping on his whiskey.
The smug bastard grinned before turning to him "I'm the hero that took down that crazy bitch not long ago"
It took all of Alastors' willpower to seem calm and oblivious.
"My, you must be quite the hero then, let me buy you a drink and you can tell me ALL about it" Alastor motioned for a drink to be served, and the unknowing bastard fell right into Alastors wicked game.
It didn't take long to say the least. This prick was an easy target, and now here he was, being buried in a forest in the middle of nowhere.
You surely would not be happy with your dear husband actions... but who could stop him now?
For months, the spilling killer of New orleans went on a rampage, almost no one was safe, not even dear old Marjorie...
Eventually, alastor had killed all the men and women involved in your kidnapping and drugging... and here he was, burying the last one...
What would he do now? You weren't there for him to return to... all his plans revolved around your future with him
I guess all he could do now
.
.
.
Was Die
As if on cue, a bullet pierced Alastors skull straight through his forehead... as everything went black...
Hello! I've been working on this for a while now, at least a week, and I think I'm just going to make another part for this, keep an eye open for it cause it will hold the afterlife of these two lovers!
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aurasplanet · 2 days
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TEACH YOU A LESSON carl grimes x fem!reader
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warnings — both are 18+, repost of an old fic because i feel bad for depriving you guys, overstimulation, ruined orgasm, jerking off, oral (m!receiving), sub!carl
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it got on your nerves how all of a sudden a new girl comes to the school and your boyfriend is all over her. maybe you're overreacting, but he's still spending too much time with her for your liking. the two of you have barely spent time together the past few days.
that brings you to now. sitting outside next to ron. you were in your normal spot, right next to where carl was supposed to be sitting. instead he was teaching enid how to use a gun, which the girl was already clearly an expert at.
the worst part, he was way too close. arms around her close, ignoring her murderous glare.
but what really caught your attention is the way he was looking at you. you've been with carl so long that you can read him like an open book. he was doing this to get a reaction out of you. soon after he was making his way back to your spot, but you don't even give him time to sit down.
you grab his arm and stand up, "let's go."
"go? where?" it didn't take a genius to recognize the suggestive tone in his voice. but you didn't answer him, just took his hand to lead him to his house.
he would say snarky things while you walked even though he knew he wouldn't get an answer. "cat got your tongue?"
you whip around and grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him down harshly. "i don't know what you were hoping for but trust me carl, you're not getting it."
the smirk on his face drops but quickly returns. "punishment or not, you're gonna fuck me."
he was right, you did. but here the boy is now, squirming on his bed on the edge of his third orgasm and you showed no signs of stopping. it was a sight to see truly, his head thrown back, legs quivering. your hand was working on his cock in slow motions.
"please, please, please."
you giggle, speeding up slightly causing the boy's mouth to drop open. "please, what baby?" he didn't answer you, all he did was grab your arm and whimper.
you pout in faux sympathy, "want me to stop?"
his grip on your arm got tighter and he leaned forward, guiding your hand to make sure you didn't "no!"
a sadistic smirk finds its way to your lips, something popping in your head that would guarantee carl never stepping out of line again. maybe it was a little harsh, your heart clenching a little at your precious boyfriend. he'd already apologized and was doing so good.
but it would teach him a lesson.
you continue pumping him, speeding up a little and nearly laugh when 'thank you's repeatedly fell from your boy's lips. you truly can read him like an open book, so you could tell when he was about to cum. you wait until the moment he was about to and pulled away, ruining it for him.
tears spring his eye at the dull feeling, "why?" he whimpers, head lifting off the pillow to look at you before falling back in desperation.
maybe you felt a little bad, but you also really liked it. "i'm sorry baby, was that mean?" he nods, pretty tears falling from his eye. your hand wraps around him again and he jolts, pushing it away.
"oh, you don't want me to finally give you what you want?" his eyes widen,
"no, i do! please," you smile at him and lower yourself on the bed.
once your mouth is level with his cock you look up at him again, "you sure you can take it baby?"
he nods, "mhm, i'll be good. promise."
he nearly sobs when you take him in your mouth, sucking on his tip lightly. you watch his reactions and wonder how someone could be so pretty when they're a mess. you lower your head, attempting to take him all in your mouth no matter how difficult it may be. you wanted to see just how wrecked he could get.
his hand finds its way to your head, not pushing, just tangling in your hair while he looks down at you in ecstasy. when you start bobbing your head it's obvious he won't last longer. he finishes down your throat with something between a moan and a groan.
"i hope this teaches you a lesson carl."
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scoonsalicious · 2 days
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Unwanted: Chapter 26, Unsurprising - Pt. 1
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of miscarriage and aftermath, fluff.
Word Count: 1.1k
Previously On...: You and Bucky actually had a good talk.
A/N: Chapter 26 begins!
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43
Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc
You woke up early the next afternoon with your face feeling puffy and your body still sore, but not nearly in as much pain as you’d been in the night before. You’d only been in the hospital for a few hours in total, but it had felt like days. Glancing around, you realized Bucky must have tucked you into the bed in Sam’s bedroom after you’d fallen asleep on him last night. Well, Bucky’s bedroom, you supposed, now that he’d be taking over as your partner until Sam got back. You wondered where he had slept.
Hearing voices from the front of the apartment, you gingerly got up, tossing a sweatshirt Sam had left behind over your sleep clothes, and padded your way softly into the living room, noticing that Bucky must have been up half the night cleaning the mess you’d left behind, as there was no sign of any of your previous debauchery. Bucky was standing at the front door, waving off a couple of delivery men.
“Hey,” you said softly from behind him as he shut the door. Bucky turned around and gave you the once-over, as if he could assess your current state of mind from the sight of you alone.
“Hey,” he replied. “How’d you sleep?”
You shrugged your shoulders. “Alright. You?”
Bucky exhaled a soft laugh. “Fine; couch is uncomfortable as hell.” There was an awkward silence, as though neither of you knew how to talk to the other any more.
“How are you feeling?” he asked eventually.
“Better,” you admitted. “Not nearly as sore. Kinda hungry.”
He looked at you, blue eyes scrutinizing. “I don’t mean physically, Pocket.”
“Oh.” You weren’t sure how to answer him, because the truth of it was, you didn’t know how you felt. You’d been in complete shock, and then you’d barely had a moment to process before exhaustion had overtaken you.
“It’s… it’s just been a lot, I guess,” you said. “I think it’s going to take me a while to process everything. I still don’t think I fully believe that all happened to me; feels like it happened to someone else.”
Bucky nodded and walked past you, toward the kitchen. “Come on,” he called to you over his shoulder. “You’ve got to be starving. I picked up some takeout while I was out.” In the kitchen, he reached into the oven and took out a few covered dishes he’d left in there to keep warm. “Wasn’t sure how long you were going to sleep,” he explained. “So I got some burgers and fries. That cool?”
Was that cool? Burgers and fries were your go-to comfort food, and it thawed your heart a little that he would remember. “Yeah, that’s cool,” you said, sitting down at the kitchen island. Bucky gently placed the containers with the still-warm food down, and you immediately began digging into your meal. “Oh man,” you moaned sinfully as you let the flavor roll around on your tongue. “That’s a fucking good burger. Only thing that would make it better would be a–”
“Chocolate shake,” Bucky finished for you. He’d gone into the fridge and pulled out two large paper cups filled with the blended beverage. “You didn’t think I’d forget, did you?”
You took the shake from him and lowered your face to hide behind your hair, not wanting him to see the pleased blush that was coloring your cheeks. “Thanks,” you murmured as you took a sip. It, too, was delicious. 
“Don’t mention it, doll,” Bucky popped the lid off his shake and, quick as lightning, stole a fry from your plate, dunking it in the shake before bringing it to his mouth.
“Hey!” you chastised. “Don’t you have your own? No fair stealing mine!”
Bucky raised and dropped a shoulder. “Super soldier metabolism,” he said. “Need all those extra calories.”
You gave him a wry smile, and the two of you just looked at each other as you ate in companionable silence. For a minute, it felt like old times, as though the chasm that had divided you had never been opened, had never ripped the earth that stood between you, irrevocably separating you from one another.
“So,” you said, clearing your throat as though it could break the spell he had over you, “who were those guys?”
“Huh?” he asked, tearing his eyes away from yours as though it were physically difficult. “Oh, them. Yeah, uh, delivery guys.”
You furrowed a brow. “Delivery guys? You haven’t even been here twenty four hours, Barnes, and you’re already making decor changes?”
Bucky chuckled. “Please. You’ve seen my room at home. You think I’ve suddenly gotten into interior design over the last few weeks you’ve been gone?” You laughed at that. “While you were sleeping, I, uh, got the idea that it probably wouldn’t do you any good… seeing your bed with, you know…” He left it hanging, but you could easily fill in the blank– all that blood. “Tried to get it out with that hydrogen peroxide we got; just kinda ended up making more of a mess, so I figure I’d just order you a new mattress, so you’d–”
You left him in the kitchen as you stood up and walked back to your room. Sure enough, there was a brand new mattress laying across your bed frame, the plastic that had been covering it shoved into a garbage bag, along with what, you assumed, were your soiled bed clothes. 
On the floor, over the spot where you’d collapsed, was a brand new throw rug.
“I made sure to check the tags on the old one,” Bucky said, coming up behind you to stand in the doorway, “so I could get the same exact kind. I, uh, didn’t want you havin’ trouble sleeping if the new one was too different, makin’ you uncomfortable.” He sounded timid, almost unsure of himself, as if he worried that he’d done the wrong thing. “And I tried to get everything outta the carpet, but, uh, there was still a stain, so… I figured a rug would work for now. ‘ll probably have to get the carpet replaced when we leave, if the cleaners can’t get everything out.”
Wordlessly, you turned and wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him in your gratitude. You weren’t sure what state you would have been in if you had had to deal with last night’s aftermath on your own. “Thank you,” you whispered, cheek pressed against his hard chest. 
Your gratitude must have struck Bucky by surprise, because it was a moment before he was gingerly placing his hands around you to return your embrace, keeping them loose, as though wanting to ensure you he wasn’t trying to keep you in a cage. “Of course, sweets,” he murmured into the top of your head. You felt him place a gentle kiss into your hair. “Of course.”
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myteavsricochet · 3 days
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Latest fanfics read (firstprince edition) part 5:
(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)
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Two's Company, Three's a Crowd
When David, Henry's introverted beagle is scared of everyone, finding a new roommate becomes a challenge for Henry. But when David's obsession with a potential roommate, the charming Alex comes to light, their living arrangement becomes set in stone. As Alex and Henry navigate their living arrangement, a unique bond forms between them, sparking a journey of heartwarming friendship and eventually, love.
OR
David doesn’t like anyone but Henry because everyone Henry’s around before he moved to the US is awful, except Bea. So Henry’s having trouble finding a roommate. During their roommate interview, David curls up in Alex’s lap and goes to sleep.
When Alex and Henry move in together, David becomes strangely obsessed with Alex. When Alex leaves for school/work, he remembers Henry exists too.
make me your god
There’s no such thing as soulmates. Not for gods.
But then Henry meets Alex, and everything changes.
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, gods and mortals, Soulmates, Immortality
starry eyes sparking up my darkest nights
Any time, son.”
This time, Alex knows it’s not a nickname.
Or, 5 times Arthur and Catherine act like Alex's family and 1 time they become one.
Additional Tags: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, Coming Out, Alex has ADHD, Found Family, Pining, but very little, Cuddling & Snuggling, Friends to Lovers, Ellen is kind of an asshole
in other words, until eternity (baby, i'm yours)
Henry reaches up and traces Alex’s cheek. Alex closes his eyes at his touch and lets Henry map his face with the pads of his fingers. He brushes over the curve of Alex’s ear, thumbs at the cut of his jaw and the indent of his chin dimple. Alex feels himself practically trembling, half in anticipation and half in response to the tenderness of the moment. His nose is next, then the line of his brows before Henry finally, finally traces the shape of his lips.
---
or: domestic bliss, firstprince edition
speak now (or forever hold your peace)
Then the preacher is saying, speak now or forever hold your peace…
This is his last chance. His heart is beating wildly in his chest, pounding in his ears, he gulps…
A second later, Henry is on his feet, standing tall.
*****
Alex left Kensington when Henry told him. And now, five years since then, Henry is invited to Alex’s wedding.
And you know how the saying goes, “If you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, it’s yours forever. If it doesn't, then it was never meant to be.”
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-The Storming of Kensington Palace (Red White & Royal Blue), Pining, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Exes to Lovers, Getting Back Together, Angst with a Happy Ending
be my mistake
“So, like, I don’t usually do this.”
Henry raises an eyebrow. He knows Alex’s reputation across campus. Everyone does.
“I mean with guys.”
Oh. Right.
Henry nods. “I won’t say anything.”
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Frat Parties, Drinking, Implied/Referenced Sex, Fuckbuddies, Casual Sex, Sex Without Feelings, Fuckboi Alex Claremont-Diaz
King of My Heart
Alex, as always, is utterly captivating.
He accepts his crown with grace and a crooked grin; it’s a duality that only he can pull off. Alex’s megawatt smile is brighter than the hundreds of multicolored shards of light reflecting off the mirrorball in the center of the room. Henry knows that Alex looks good on stage, he knows that Alex knows that he looks good on stage, and apparently, everyone else knows it as well. Henry thinks he sees a girl faint at the sight out of the corner of his eye.
And yet, no one knows about Alex and him. Everyone in the crowd wants Alex, but it’s a losing battle — Henry already won that fight a couple of weeks ago.
-
Or, When Alex wins Prom King, Henry sneaks him away for a moment alone and realizes that his feelings may run deeper than their clandestine hookups suggest
The Weight of Confession
The careful balance of his time was tipping. He was supposed to be 33.3% Lawyer, 33.3% Spider-Man, and 33.3% Alex... Not always in the order. But yeah, okay, often in that order.
But, that balance had been tipping too far towards Alex time for a few weeks. Which, took away from time as Spider-Man. Then, work got busy, which meant there was less time for Alex to catch up with June... It never ends.
There aren’t enough hours in the day for Alex to feel satisfied in every role. And, June paid the price.
Or: The point in time where a housewarming party and an origin story converge.
part 2 of What's up, danger?
solace in my star(s)
thinking that maybe henry likes being an insomniac because without the darkness of the night you wouldn't see the stars and that's his way of connecting with arthur and then eventually he has alex and he finds the same solace and love in alex
Additional tags: henry fox-mountchristen-windsor needs a hug, depression, stargazing, insomnia, established relationship
i scratch your head, you fall asleep
“Long day?” Henry asked quietly and carded his fingers through Alex’s curls. The other man relaxed heavily into him with another sigh and Henry felt him nod against his leg.
“Long month, really,” Alex murmured. “But we finished prep for a case early today and Marge said I can’t come back until I’ve slept for at least twelve consecutive hours, so. Here I am.”
“Here you are,” Henry echoed fondly.
-
or, alex really, really needs a nap and henry really, really loves him
you don't know the answer (til someone's on their knees and asks you)
“This might be the best one yet,” Henry comments, picking up another forkful of cheesecake and holding it out toward Alex. “Cheers to another successful con.”
They clink their forks, sharing small secret smiles over their free dessert before exiting the restaurant with their fingers interlocked and thanking the hostess, while all the servers watch them leave with hearts in their eyes.
Exactly the way they’d fucking planned it.
---
Best friends Alex and Henry pretending to get engaged every week to get free dessert, until those pesky feelings get in the way.
falling in love (every time i see you)
“Henry, I love you.” He says it without knowing what it means, just that it feels right on his tongue, and Henry’s eyes go wide like he can’t believe anyone would say that to him. Alex would say it a thousand times. He’s just waiting for Henry to say it back.
(or, five times alex tells henry he loves him, one time henry finally says it back)
with all these nights we're spending (my broken bones are mending)
It’s unexpected, and the softness that Prince Henry maintains is a shock to his system.
It makes him want to say something, even if it’s only to ask how his day was or to request an explanation for why he spent nearly fifteen fucking minutes looking at Cupid and Psyche with a forlorn look in his eyes. When he moves on, Alex gazes up at the sculpture and tries to discern the magic that must have captured the prince’s attention, but he comes up with no answers.
Which makes him want to ask more.
But he isn’t supposed to.
----
Or, Alex is the new V&A night guard and Henry is the prince that Alex has been explicitly instructed to leave alone.
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doodle-pops · 2 days
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Finrod NSFW Alphabet
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Request: Hello 👉👈 I really love your writing and since your requests are open if you're up for it could I ask for some NSFW headcanons for Finrod? I deeply enjoy this blonde blorbo 💜 thanks and be healthy - Anon
A/N: It’s always a pleasure to write one of these alphabets for the elves, especially for our golden boy. I hope you’re staying well also. Enjoy!
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
The air is quiet, however, he’s still energetic after having sex and would cuddle you like an overly ecstatic puppy while touching some part of your body. It’s usually him pulling your sweaty body halfway on top of his while his hand wander and touching your back, butt and thighs. Finrod doesn’t mean for it to be an initiator for another round, he simply enjoys the proximity of the bodily contact you two are sharing in the moment and doesn’t want for it to end or be limited to simply lying beside each other. At the same time, when you manage to catch your breath and haven’t fallen asleep, likewise him, he would inquire about your next move. His voice is tender, yet, deep as he asks if you would like to have a bath run, something to eat and drink or lie in bed and talk? Once he receives his answer and is aware of your body status, he returns to being the cuddly bean that he is.
B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
It’s your eyes. Those gorgeous eyes of yours he loves endlessly. He wants every act to involve you looking into his eyes because the eyes never lie; they are the windows into one’s soul and he wants to know how lost in the pleasure or in love are you. All those whimpers and pleads are usually followed by your eyes softening or becoming puddles as they roll or cross when the pleasure is just right. He loses his mind when he knows how close you are and you’re struggling to keep your eyes open, which drives him wild. It allows him to calculate his next move with accuracy and precision to make you lose your mind.
On him, it’s between his mouth and fingers because he’s exceptionally skilled at bringing you great forms of pleasure using those two. He simply loves when you beg him to use his mouth, guiding him to where you want him most or how he whispers sinfully into your ear as he holds you down to finger you. His ability to drive you crazy with his body parts makes his ego run wild and he uses them to his advantage.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Not a messy person to begin with and prefers releasing inside you, on your thighs or in your mouth if you provide him with a blowjob. While his desire to impregnate doesn’t run explicitly as the rest of the members of his family, he enjoys the sensation of your walls milking every ounce of his cum out of his cock. It’s a feeling he experienced and became hard to ignore anytime you two are intimate. The rare occasion when he doesn’t desire to finish inside you is when you’re rewarding him with an earth-shattering blowjob, which he can’t refuse.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
As regal and majestic Finrod appears, he enjoys the days when you take the weight of dominance off his shoulders and take the lead in bed. Yup, he’s a switch and revels in the dynamic. Not all the time he want to be giving the pleasure even he receives; he wants to see what tricks you have up your sleeves and how well you can take the lead and return satisfactory pleasure to your King. The sub side of him tends to appear when he’s down on energy or when he’s in that roleplaying headspace. However, he tends to lean on the dominant side more often than the sub.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
He read lots of books and heard discussions from his lawless family members about the basic do’s and don’ts when it comes to intimacy. Finrod isn’t a skittish person when it comes to daring acts when it’s new to him. This is something he faces with passion and determination; it’s both your pleasure on the playing field and he isn’t wanting to take it as a joke. His first time with you would be full of confidence, leading you to believe that he’s done this before—he’s a natural. Anything outside of the basics would require experimenting and your input should you have intel, and he isn’t one to shy away from learning new intimate activities.
F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)
Finrod is a simple person and would go for missionary as his most used position because he wants to get lost all up in your eyes—you have gorgeous eyes he wants to see, okay. It’s such a raw and intimate position in his eyes that allows him to grant you the world of pleasure, plus, he can manoeuvre your legs anywhere he enjoys while choosing the pace he wanta to deive hismelf into you with. Furthermore, in this position, he gets to have access to your body to utilise his mouth, meaning his pretty lips are whispering sweet praises in your ear or attached to your lips, neck and chest.
Riding him is another favourite position because he gets to watch you riding him like a stallion. Those hands on his chest leaving behind moon crescents, or the up and down motion of your body causing your breasts to jiggle spurs him on. His own hands can’t help but reach out to ‘assist’ as you ride him like there’s no tomorrow. It’s an easy-to-access position when you slip into his study or throne—should he be up for a quickie—or when he wants to lead you under the false impression that you’re in control of the session. So easy it is for him to buck into you, pinning your arms behind your back and take over. All you can do is hang on for the ride.
On mornings after your night together, when his energy might be too low for him or you to get on top, he’ll opt for spooning. In this position, it feels like he doesn’t have to rush, and you don’t have anywhere to go as the world unravels around you two as the morning awakens. Your leg resting in the crook of his elbow as he spreads you wide enough for his cock to sink smoothly into your heat, while he presses soft kisses to your shoulder as he takes his time carrying you off to your climax.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
He’s capable of being both goofy and serious during sex, it all depends on the reason. If he’s jealous or the moment calls for a touch of sentiment, Finrod would hope that you would understand his reasoning and respect the atmosphere. Laughing during times like that would lead him to believe that you didn’t care. Anything outside of those moments, Finrod wouldn’t mind revelling in a burst of hearty laughter if he or you made a mistake, or the moment requires great joy to be expressed. You two probably knocked heads or slipped, leading to you laughing at each other’s eagerness.
H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Sadly, elves don’t have body hair and Finrod is remarkably famed for the hair he had on his head compared to what he has below. So if you peeked, it is clean.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Finrod has his own way of making every sentimental moment romantic and full of love. I’m sure there were times when you two slept and it was simply pure fucking for the sake of pleasure and relief, but there are times when he wants to romance you. This is when you get introduced to body-worshipping Finrod who doesn’t stop until you know your worth and you are incapacitated, in a good way. His mouth is attached to every inch of your skin, whispering sweet words as he kisses and bites while having extreme body contact—like he’ll rest half his weight atop you to pin, but also want to let you feel him.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
I can see him masturbating if it’s done under mutual masturbating and voyeurism. Other than that, it’s hard to see him touching himself when he’s alone. Don’t get me wrong, he would touch himself to thoughts of you, but he would rather you watch as he comes undone to the thoughts of you that consume him, putting his cravings at the back and waiting for the right moment to gift you that sight. So if he was thinking of you, he’ll wait when you’re alone in your chambers and gift you the magnificent sight of witnessing how crazy you drive him.  
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
One of Finrod’s weaknesses stems from his titles being used to get him either on his knees or feral. He adores when you address him as ‘My King’ or ‘Your Majesty’ which already announces his position, however, he likes to take it up a notch and introduce roleplaying. He has admitted to enjoying the use of domineering titles being used on him, so he opts for roles that grant him access to hearing names like, ‘Sir’ or ‘Master’. The cheeky devil finds himself caught up in a whirlwind of pleasure when you’re playing a servant or a merchant, desperate for your King to grant you favour.
Whether it is a kink or not, he has the strangest fascination watching you squirt. It brings out a childlike wonder in him, especially the first time it happened, and he inquired about it. That was all Finrod needed to get to work using every technique in the book, and like I said, he’s skilled with his mouth and fingers, so it will be achieved with ease. Just seeing you gush a waterfall which is derived from the satisfaction of the insurmountable pleasure he’s giving you makes him content. He doesn’t always make you squirt every session, since the time and place prevent that, but when he’s in the mood to, count your blessings because one is not enough.
Believe it or not, sensory play is also a favourite of Finrod. He’ll introduce blindfolds and elven ropes to leave you on the edge as he strips away your sense of sight and touch, even going as far as to remove hearing as he becomes a ghost on his feet. One minute you’ll be feeling the feathery touches of his fingers, and the next, you’re experiencing his cock pounding into you. When you’re incapacitated like this, his teasing tends to go up a notch, denying you any and all chances to feel his body against yours except his cock, fingers or mouth.
A massive body-worshipper which grants him access to quite a few other kinks up his sleeves like bondage. Nothing extravagant or elaborate, just a few simple bonds to your/his wrists and ankles, and he’s good with that. All that’s left to do is to relax and enjoy the oncoming pleasure either of you would grant the other. The only difference between you two is that Finrod is a massive tease and revels in teasing you as he worships your body; making you beg or confess how beautiful you find yourself if you desire his touch. However, he doesn’t appreciate the favour being returned excessively; tease him, but not too much. He’ll tug against the restraints, easily breaking out of them, before pinning you to the bed and asking, ‘What was so funny about teasing me so much?’
L = Location (favourite places to do the do)
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Mostly in his chambers, study, the courtroom and his home (in Valinor). You can get him to participate in a session in the forest if you two are camping, at a spring or a waterfall and the area if safe. It wouldn’t be wise if his guards were standing outside while he was taking you because it meant that he couldn’t hear your sweet moans and cries of his name. So, he would ensure that his guards weren’t around before he indulged.
Whispering ‘My King’ or ‘Your Majesty’ in his ear late at night or in private easily gets his blood pumping. He’s doing his best to restrain himself as he grips his quill with every effort not to snap it. The desire to pounce on you is strong yet hangs by a thin thread and grows more dangerous each second you wander about his space, taunting him. Finrod is also quite proud of his accomplishments and himself, so praising him also goes a long way in getting him to conform to your wishes to of having him in bed. Run your hands across his muscles, his clothes and through his hair giving small tugs, tell him how good of a King he is to his subjects and that you wish to pay respect to his kindness. He’ll easily allow you to have your way.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Nothing that would involve infliction of pain, blood or violence. Extreme BDSM would be out of the question to Finrod as well as any use of weapons. Furthermore, he isn’t going to be pleased with sharing or having others watching.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Like his older cousin, it’s no joke that he has an oral fixation as well and his mouth has to be on some part of your body. Finrod is a pleaser and he’ll eat you for both his pleasure and yours. Spending hours between your legs while it’s wrapped around his head suffocating him helps to relieve his stressful days as King. All he has to do is bat his pretty lashes at you and you’ve succumbed to his desires. There are times when he keeps his crown on and informs you to come sit on your throne while flashing you a lopsided grin because he knows what he’s doing. This is the one time where he doesn’t let up because he can’t get enough of your taste. Your legs could be shaking, you could attempt to push his head away and he’ll continue; this is after all for both you and him.
When receiving, he doesn’t shy away from accepting the act, however, he has a preference for you pleasuring him in other ways, so you’ll have to push him down. Or you can sneak into his study and suck him off from under the table while he struggles to keep a straight face and focus. During those moments, his hands would gently cradle your head as he leaves you to do your thing at your own pace…until you decide to go extra slow and tease him. That’s when he’ll grumble before guiding your head along his length or if he’s standing, thrusting into your mouth. It’s the one time when he’s rough while receiving oral.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Finrod leans towards slow and sensual whenever he’s intimate. This means that he’s a slow and passionate lover, enjoying deep, long, and slow strokes that are almost too much for you to handle before speeding up slightly, leaving you breathless or begging him to ease up—he doesn’t because he enjoys how flustered you become with his thrusts. This isn’t to say that he can’t get rough from time to time. For him, being rough only comes when you make him jealous, he’s heavily stressed or being a damn tease. This is when his thrusts are swift and rougher than usual, perhaps a slight bit of manhandling might happen in the moment. But to say the least, his rough side is enjoyable when he’s pinning you against some surface.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Quickies are a thing you would depend on due to both your hectic schedule as leaders, and he would follow along. Most of the time, it’s him helping you out when you require relief since he isn’t as horny as you unless you purposefully rile him up by calling him one of his titles or wearing a tight or low-cut neckline. Otherwise, he genuinely goes along because he doesn’t have an issue when you desire him to please you. And here is where he gets to use his mouth and fingers most to get you off. It is on the rare occasion that he undresses and fully takes you, leaving you to take charge in the form of riding him.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
I believe that the biggest risk Finrod is willing to take is allowing you to crawl on your knees to him in your submissive role. The act to him is debauched because you shouldn’t ever be on your knees in that manner, but there’s something sexy about watching you crawl over to him dressed in your finest lingerie or naked, to greet him. It’s different compared to when you’re on your knees sucking him off. Either the predatory or innocent look in your eyes as you look up at him makes his brain shut down for a split second before he gets serious. It’s the only lowly act he considers taking a chance to participate in.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Should the moment surround love and sentiment, Finrod is willing to have two to three rounds for the night, stretching each out to over thirty minutes. He’s worshipping you from head to toe every round because he is a passionate lover who leaves his touch quaking in your bones when he’s finished. However, if he’s jealous, everything is rougher and longer, as in five rounds until you understand that it’s he you should focus on and belong to. Of course, he gauges your responses to know if you can go for more.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Since toys, like what we have, don’t exist in Middle Earth, there aren’t many options to choose from if he were to indulge. To him, the idea of including toys would be great on your behalf since it would allow you to pleasure yourself when he couldn’t. The most he would request is to be present when you use them, so he can enjoy the performance while sipping on a glass of wine. Blindfold and elven ropes, something they have, would be included frequently in your activities since you mentioned that you enjoyed the heightened pleasure they added.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Yes, Finrod is a massive tease who hates to be on the receiving end when the tables are turned. He wants to drive you mad and have you moan, cry and beg for his touches; it fuels his ego to learn how much you crave him. Just listening to your whimpers as his lips ghost the shell of your ear as he tells you how much he desires you, knowing that you’re unable to do anything because you’re in public. The wicked, innocent, grin he throws at you before he saunters away, leaving you in a mess. But if you return the favour, he’ll take it for a while before growing impatient and pouncing.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
I have to say, his moans are heavenly. Quite angelic, especially when he tosses his head backwards to allow his golden curls to fall while releasing sweet notes, emphasising how good you make him feel. Either that, or he’s in your ear moaning like crazy, knowing how his voice makes you wetter and come undone faster. He isn’t excessively loud, but rather soft whimpers and moans like his goal is to seduce you with them, and he succeeds.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Finrod has a mirror kink which is a category under his love for body-worshipping. It goes both ways because he wants you to witness how you come undone with every touch, stroke and whisper he delivers so diabolically while you also desire the same with him. If you have an issue with your confidence, you can bet yourself that mirror sex is going to be a frequent occurrence until you can get it into your head that you’re beautiful. He’ll force you to watch as he takes you, the only time he’ll have you from behind, and force you to repeat after him, ‘I am beautiful.’
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Hmm, for someone considered one of the many beautiful elves to exist, he sure does have a pretty package. Well endowed, not too thick or thin, just the right length and girth to smoothly enter without any discomfort and carries a gentle weight, so he feels just right. He’s a shower that has a few veins running along the surface with a pink tip that stands out. Finrod is incredibly proud of his appendage as it matches his good looks, allowing him to have both a pretty and well-endowed cock.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
His sex drive is quite low. He doesn’t crave sexual intimacy as much as you probably would, hence why he would invest in toys of all sorts for you, once he can access them. In the early days of your relationship as a newlywed, he would experience the same need to be as close to you as much as possible and spend more time behind closed doors, wanting to understand your body and bask in the joys of being newlyweds. But as time rolled on and the newlywed phase disappeared, so did his urge. Being dutiful to his people and with the ongoing war, his focus lies elsewhere. Perhaps twice to thrice a month, you two indulge to keep the flame burning.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
It takes him a while to fall asleep due to his boundless energy. Leaving you after having a moment isn’t an act he enjoys since in his eyes, it makes him believe that he's using you, so he always stays. Most of the time, he’ll be the one awake while you’re curled up in his arms, fast asleep. Should you manage to have the energy to stay awake, some pillow talk would help to sedate him. Once he does drift into slumber, Finrod becomes a cuddler and a sleep talker. Softly murmuring your name as he snoozes and clings to you like a bear cub, he refuses to let you go the entire night.
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Masterlist
Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @mysticmoomin @rain-on-my-umbrella @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @involuntaryspasms @aconstructofamind @addaigio
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save me from the nothing i've become
rated M | read it on ao3 | 3k words | next chapter
John’s eyebrows raised up in surprise. He had no idea that Abigail had settled down. “I– I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had a feller,”
She tilted her head, appearing confused. Then, understanding washed over her. “Oh, John, I’m not…” She shook her head. “I’m not married.”
She could tell he was still (justifiably) confused, so she continued. “I’d like to introduce you to someone. John, this is my son, Jack… Jack Marston.”
//
1899. Three months after the dissolution of the Van Der Linde gang, John reunites with Abigail, whom he hasn't seen in 5 years. Unbeknownst to him, she's kept a part of him with her the whole time.
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NOVEMBER 1894
That fateful evening, everything had seemed relatively normal. Until, of course, it wasn’t.  
Abigail approached John at the campfire. The New Austin heat had cooled as the sun went down, and now there was a chill in the air. As such, he had been sitting with Arthur and Javier, the latter strumming his guitar somewhat aimlessly. 
“John? Can I talk to you?” She asked. 
“Yeah, ‘course.” He looked her up-and-down. There was something wrong, her body language was off, her voice a little shaky. She’d been acting standoffish and strange lately, so he’d been giving her space. Perhaps she was upset by it, and they’d likely argue. But then they’d go back to normal soon enough, as they always did. 
She glanced at the other two men. Arthur was nodding off, and Javier was paying no attention, instead focused on his guitar. She cleared her throat. “Can we talk alone?” 
John raised an eyebrow, but complied nonetheless. He grabbed his jacket off of the ground first, slightly put off by the fact that he had to leave the warmth of the campfire. Abigail lead him to the area overlooking the rocky cliffside, where two sideways barrels sat as makeshift seats. She gestured to one of the barrels. John sat, confused.
He looked at her, tilting his head. “You alright?” He was starting to get a little worried. 
“No. Yes. I will be.” She sat down on the other barrel gingerly, folding her hands in her lap. 
Her confusing answer did little to abate his worries. On instinct, he shrugged his jacket off and placed it around her shoulders. She accepted the gesture with little gusto.
“It’s okay. You can tell me,” he assured her. 
Abigail nodded tensely. She shook her head, a humorless chuckle escaping her throat. “Christ, I just.. I’ve been tryin’ to figure out the best way to say this. Spent all day tryin’ to come up with the words and I still can’t.” 
John was silent as he waited for her to continue. 
She was quiet for a good while, staring up at the stars. The sky was an inky black, and the cosmos twinkled in a cloudless sky. “I just— I can’t keep doin’ this, John.”
His heart sunk. What did she mean by that? Couldn’t continue with their relationship? He couldn’t think of anything he’d done wrong lately, besides being a little distant. But they both liked their space at different points, and it was never an issue before, so why would it be a problem now?
John opened his mouth. Closed it. “I… you’re breakin’ up with me?” He let out an awkward sort of breathy laugh as a nervous tic.
Abigail pursed her lips, mulling over her words. She shook her head. “No. I need out of this,” she gestured loosely. “This life, I can’t do it.” 
What else would she do? She hated her life before. Was her old life really better than whatever existence she’d carved herself in the gang? 
“So… you’d rather go back to prostitutin’?” He asked, indignant. He felt immediate regret upon seeing her expression. The way her mouth pressed into a thin line and her brow furrowed. 
She stomped her foot angrily, a cloud of dust rising from the impact. “That ain’t what I’m sayin’ and you know it! Christ, you can be so—“ She cut herself off with a clench of her fists. 
“So what are you sayin’, then? You leavin’ ‘cause ‘a me?” He stood up, rising to his full height. He was just about ready to storm off and leave. 
“Will you get your head outta your own ass for a minute an’ listen to me? This ain’t helpin’ nothin’!” She threw her hands in the air, gesticulating with an air of anger. 
John sat back down with a huff. “I’m sorry. Go on.” he forced out. He had so many questions, so much more he wanted to add. But he’d hear her out; deep down, he knew she was right. Arguing wouldn’t help her explain herself. 
She shook her head sadly, not meeting his gaze. “It ain’t nothin’ against you, John. You know how much I care about you. But I gotta do what’s best for me.” She hugged herself — hugging the jacket, John’s jacket, closer.
“And?” he pressed.
Her arms were still crossed, but the ire was gone from her voice. “I need to feel safe, and livin’ on the run with a bunch’a criminals ain’t safe. I have to protect myself.” 
Rationally, John couldn’t argue with her logic. But the thought of losing her hurt more than he could have ever thought. 
He said nothing in response — Hell, what even could he say?
Abigail reached out to touch his arm. “I’m sorry, John. I ain’t doin’ this to hurt you.” She let out a sigh, and when she finally met his gaze, her eyes were misty. “I already know what your answer is gonna be. But I have to ask, ‘cause I’ll spend the rest of my life kickin’ myself if I didn’t. Will you come with me?”
His mouth went dry. There were two clear-cut paths laid out in front of him. 
He could keep living this life — wild, lawless, dangerous. All the freedom he could want and all the danger that came with it. Going to sleep and wondering if he’d be greeted with a torched camp and a knife in his throat in the morning. The constant brushes with death and the exhilarating temptation it brought.
Or a life with Abigail. Freedom — but in a very different way; experiencing the wild, untamed world with the woman he loved by his side. 
That meant no more gang. No more safety net. No more stability. No more Arthur or Hosea or Grimshaw or Dutch.
Dutch… 
He thought of how Dutch would react, shuddering. He’d be labeled a traitor… and maybe Dutch would be right for it. After all, how selfish could he be? To leave his family, even if it was for Abigail? He couldn’t do that, could he? They needed him.
But Abigail wanted him. Yet she was willing to leave, seemingly with or without him. She’d survived much longer without him. True, she didn’t need him. But did the gang need him? Surely they did, he put his due effort in and in turn they took care of him. He owed the whole gang so much. 
He bowed his head down, unwilling to see the look on her face when he rejected her. “I… I can’t.” You fucking coward. 
Abigail nodded, seeming like she expected this. “I know,” she said sadly. She rose from the barrel she was sitting on. Silhouetted by moonlight, the grayish jacket on her almost looked like a pair of angel’s wings. 
Perhaps, she was an angel, of sorts. She wasn’t meant to stay in Hell with him. She was meant to soar to the heavens, far above this life. 
She was leaving. She was leaving him. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, a dull ache blooming in his chest. “Wait. Abigail?” 
“Yeah?” 
He couldn’t let her leave without saying it at least once. He exhaled shakily. “...I love you,” It felt only fair that if she was going to shatter his heart, he may as well give it to her fully. 
She gave him a sort of sad smile. “I know you do, John. I know you do.” 
And just like that, she was gone, like smoke dissolving in the air, having left his heart adrift in a sea of uncertainty.
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OCTOBER 1899
FIVE YEARS LATER
Three months.
Three months had passed since everything had fallen apart. 
He had rode until the horse he’d stolen (after Old Boy had been shot out from under him) until it dropped. Then another, and another after that, until he’d passed through West Elizabeth. He spent his time roaming New Austin for a few weeks, then he went north into New Mexico. 
John wandered the desert almost as a ghost, wandering from place to place aimlessly. He was far enough away that he hadn’t seen any Pinkertons, and he’d done his due diligence to cover his tracks.
He hadn’t fully let his guard down yet, but he felt confident enough to stay in a settlement for more than a day or two. 
That was how he had found himself in his newest haunt. For the southwest, it was a decently big town — one by the name of Brimstone. It wasn’t quite the size of Blackwater, but it was close to as large, and besides, it was a good place to lie low.
John hitched his newest horse in front of a water trough. “Go ‘head, get yourself a drink, miss. You’ve earned it,” he said, smoothing his hand down her mane. 
He’d stolen the Gypsy Cob from a rather bold bounty hunter (who’d unfortunately caught a bullet in between his eyes). She was a pretty thing, white splashed-bay coated with soul-stirring blue eyes. “I’ll be back, lady. Think I’m gonna get myself a drink an’ find us a place to stay.” He had no reason to speak to the horse, but he’d been sorely lacking conversation as of late. 
The horse, naturally, didn’t answer him back, getting herself a well-deserved drink.
The town’s saloon was right across from where he’d hitched his horse. It was a short walk inside, every step made a little more excruciating by the sun beating down on him. 
God, he was filthy. He couldn’t remember the last time he wasn’t caked in sweat. 
The saloon, of course, housed degenerates of all sorts — the exact people John fit in seamlessly with. However, it was fairly empty, considering it was high noon.
All the better. Meant less people would talk to him. The wooden floors creaked under every step he took, drawing the attention of the few patrons inside. 
John fished a coin out of Arthur’s his satchel and apathetically tossed it onto the bar.
The bartender looked at him curiously. “You new ‘round these parts, stranger?”
“Guess you could say that,” John replied impassively. “Gimme a whiskey.” 
The bartender poured him a shot and slid it to him. “You look rough, partner.”
“Feel rough,” John muttered before tossing his head back and downing the shot. The acrid taste and slight sting in his throat made him feel a little bit less like a zombie. 
The room was quiet for a moment. The only other patrons were either sad drunks half-asleep on the floor, or crusty old men playing cards.
It was a downright depressing environment. Then again, he supposed he fit in perfectly with that. 
“We got rooms and a bath upstairs, if you need ‘em. Fifty cents for both.” The bartender informed him.
John sighed deeply. He reached into the satchel blindly, then placed a dollar coin on the counter. “That should cover me for about one bath and three nights.” 
“Thank you kindly, sir. Can I get you anythin’ else?”
“Nope,” John replied tersely. “Just the bath.” 
“Sure, partner. Bathroom’s upstairs, first door on the right.”
He muttered a thanks in reply and pushed himself away from the bar. 
As swiftly as he could manage, John sorted himself out. There was no reason to be hurried, but months of being on the run, it had become a habit to do just about everything quickly. After all, he had no idea when he’d next have to pack his things and go. 
That had been his reality ever since the Blackwater incident. For most of the year, there was always someone hot on his tail, only now he didn’t have the safety in numbers that being in the gang provided.
Firstly, set down the few items he owned inside his rented room. Soon after scrubbing himself clean in a rather tepid bath, shaving, and putting on (semi) clean clothes, John walked outside, the blazing sun still high in the sky. According to the bartender, there was an open-air market the next street over. He needed supplies; it had been almost two weeks since he’d bought anything, and his rations were getting uncomfortably low. Should he have to flee town suddenly, he’d probably be up shit creek without a paddle. 
It wasn’t like he didn’t have any money. When Arthur gave him the satchel, there was a ridiculous amount of money with it.
Arthur…
It still hurt to think about him. Hurt to think about a lot of people. All the people he’d lost. 
Hosea. Miss Grimshaw. Lenny. Sean. Kieran. Jenny. Mac. Davey.
Even Abigail, though she wasn’t a direct consequence of Dutch’s insanity. Though it had been years, he still felt her absence keenly. Almost like a wound that never quite healed. She haunted his thoughts nearly every day — but did she still think of him?
He had no idea if she was even alive. And now, it would be nigh impossible to find her with the bounty on his head. 
Perhaps it was fate that he ended up completely alone. He’d spent his formative years alone on the streets, and now it was much the same.
Of course, the difference was that he knew how to take care of himself. 
Still, he was just as alone as he’d been then. 
The open-air market was much larger than he expected. Not only that, but it was rather crowded considering the time of day. 
Merchants came from decently far, but considering Brimstone was the only town for miles, it made sense. The closest town was Tumbleweed, and it had taken him about two days to get from Tumbleweed to Brimstone. 
He was perusing the lackluster selection of fruit — granted, it was hard to get a nice selection of produce all the way out in the desert. A kindly old woman was selling plums, upselling to him about how they were the best locally-grown fruit you could find in Brimstone.
His stomach growled at the prospect of having something fresh to eat. He’d been living off of canned food and jerky (when he remembered to stop and actually eat, that was) for months. 
“How much will it be?”
“Five cents, sir,” 
He fished around inside his satchel until he found a quarter and placed it in her wrinkled hand. Then, he grabbed a second plum. “Keep the change, ma’am,” 
She grinned. “Bless you, young man.” 
Sometimes, it was the simplest acts of kindness that made him feel a little less like an irredeemable monster.
John nodded at the old saleswoman, then continued to wander aimlessly. He didn’t exactly know what he wanted to buy, but he was hoping something else would catch his eye the way the plums did. 
The trapper’s stand didn’t have much that interested him, but he did stroll by a little slower upon seeing a few of the pelts. Nothing was quite attention-grabbing enough, and after a moment he continued on.
Until he stopped dead in his tracks — because the woman just a few yards ahead looked eerily familiar. 
It couldn’t be… could it? 
Abigail. 
He’d recognize her anywhere. The woman who had haunted his dreams every day since she had left his life. 
She looked good. Happy. Relaxed. Healthy. All adjectives that couldn’t be used to describe himself.
She turned to face him — and when their eyes met, it was as if time had completely frozen. He forgot how to speak, how to stand, how to breathe. His mind played those last moments between them, how she had left him with his heart in her palm.
“Wait. Abigail?” 
“Yeah?” 
“...I love you,” 
“I know you do, John. I know you do.” 
“John?” 
“Abigail,” he whispered. He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. He pushed away the urge to run to her, scoop her into his arms and never let go, instead walking to her at a slightly hurried pace. He bumped into indignant townsfolk, but he couldn’t be bothered to care. His sights were solely on Abigail. John had complete tunnel vision; all he could focus on was her.
He was enraptured yet again by her bright blue eyes. They seized all the sadness in his heart when she looked at him. 
“It’s, um, it’s really good to see you,” He finally said, dumbly. He mentally kicked himself. He’d been thinking about this moment for five years and that was the best he could come up with?
His only other want was to take her into his arms and kiss her like he’d never see her again. He had so many questions for her. How long had she been here? Why was she in Brimstone, the middle of nowhere, of all places? 
“I heard what happened, it was in all the papers," she said, face scrunched in concern. “...You look like death.”
How he’d missed her. He thought about her so often, wondering what a reunion between them would be like. 
"Thanks," he replied, accompanied by a dry laugh, "I feel like death." 
She reached out to touch him, just a brush of her hand against his chest. Still, it made his heart flutter.
“...I thought you were dead,” she added quietly. 
John could say the same about her. He sighed, trying to ignore the memories she unwittingly dredged up. “I was one of the lucky ones,” 
“Karen? Arthur? Hosea?” 
He simply shook his head, eyes downcast. There was so much he needed to tell her. It would surely take hours just to cover everything that had happened this year alone.
She gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. “God, I’m sorry,” 
At that moment, a little boy — one with eyes that were the same blue as Abigail’s — decided to make his presence known, tugging on Abigail’s skirt insistently. “Mama, what are we doin’?” 
John’s eyebrows raised up in surprise. He had no idea that Abigail had settled down and had children. “I– I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had a feller,” 
She tilted her head, appearing confused. Then, understanding washed over her. “Oh, John, I’m not…” She shook her head. “I’m not married.”
She could tell he was still (justifiably) confused, so she continued. “I’d like to introduce you to someone. John, this is my son, Jack… Jack Marston.”
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labs · 17 days
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Communities closed beta is here
Hello again! We’re back with an update on Communities, a big idea we had last year that we’ve been working on steadily since then. We’re abnormally jazzed to announce that we’re beginning a “closed beta” phase of this new feature, which means many of you will get to play with it soon!
We want to build this whole thing together, with as much input from all of you as possible. We’ve read and re-read the feedback from our previous post, and we’ve been surveying and interviewing people about this idea for a few months now. But it’s time to open this up even more for hands-on testing.
We’ve already begun reaching out to most of you who interacted with our previous post, as promised, with a survey asking whether you’d be interested in helping (check your email!). Over the next couple of weeks, we’ll be using the results of that survey to narrow down who we’d like to help test Communities in these initial batches.
The process is looking a bit like this:
If you received a Communities survey email to your registered Tumblr email address, fill it out! If you’re interested in helping us in this beta test period, that’s your way of potentially getting early access. If you did not receive an email with the Communities survey, don’t fret! Communities will be rolling out to more people as we expand our testing. 
We’ll go through the results and choose a diverse range of community ideas to gather a wide array of feedback.
Selected testers will receive a second survey with more detailed questions about their proposed community. Very practical stuff, like the name, title, and description, whether it should be public or private, the About page contents, its own community guidelines, and more.
We will create the new Tumblr community on your behalf using the information supplied. We’re building the tools that will let people create and edit communities themselves, so eventually you’ll be able to change them without needing our help. But for now, we’re creating and editing them for you, as needed.
After we’ve created the community, you’ll be made its first admin. Everything from here on out is up to you – Tumblr staff won’t be in your community (unless you invite us, of course). You’ll be able to invite anyone on Tumblr to your community. However, your community will have a population cap to start, limiting how many people can be in it and invited, as a way of keeping this beta test somewhat contained and manageable for us. We’ll be able to raise that population cap for communities that are growing and if we want to test further in that direction.
And throughout, we’ll be asking for feedback, both in some special communities for everyone in the closed beta, and via more surveys and the Support tickets we receive.
This closed beta version of Communities is far from finished, and that’s part of the reason we want to start opening it up to more of you for feedback. There are a lot of rough edges and known issues, but we think it’s far enough along that it’s usable enough for testing. We need feedback in order to feel like we’re building the right thing.
The very first public community is called “Communities Feedback” for this reason! We want everyone helping us test out communities to tell us about it, so people in this closed beta will be in there by default. We want to use that space to be more public and real-time about new pieces we’re building, bugs we’re fixing, things we know are broken, and answers to common questions. There is an additional, private community for community admins, to help shape how administrating and moderating these spaces will work. And if you don’t want to use those spaces, you can always use the “Feedback” category in our Support form.
Stay tuned for more, and keep an eye on that Communities Feedback space if you’d like to see how things are changing over time.
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schrodingerscougar · 1 month
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Note: Wow, the roommate!Simon story blew up. Anyway, here's part 2.
Following his conversation with Johnny, Simon begins to think. He begins to consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he’s developing feelings for you. Why else would he be so protective and mad when the sergeant talks this way about you? The thought scares him at first.
For one, being near him is a death sentence, he saw that with his family. He can’t even imagine surviving losing someone he loved again. Then there is another thing, the fact he isn’t sure you would return his feelings. If you didn’t, as he suspects, living with you would be torture, and he’s honestly too lazy to look for a new place to stay.
The next time he arrives home in the middle of the day, the apartment is empty since you’re at your workplace most probably. Not seeing your face brighten at the sight of him makes his heart ache, but he knows you’ll be home in two or three hours, so he can most certainly survive that by lying down to catch up on sleep. He leaves a post-it for you on the small table next to the front door where you always put your keys, warning you that he’s back home.
He’s woken by the smell of fresh coffee and something sweet. When he checks the clock on his bedside, he notices it’s past seven, which means he slept a good four hours without interruptions. The new record of the past weeks as the most he slept peacefully was two hours tops. He climbs out of bed and goes to the living room, surprised to see you in the kitchen, humming a song to yourself as you admire the neatly cut brownies on the kitchen island.
“You’re awake!” you exclaim happily, quickly pressing a button on the coffee machine to make him some coffee too, then pick up an empty plate and put a slice of brownie on it. “Welcome home. Here, try this. I thought you might use some homemade things after being away for so long.”
That damn smile of yours. It’s wide, happy, and it easily warms his heart and makes him smile too. Your good mood is infectious and he finds himself stuffing the cookie into his mouth as he stands next to you, nudging your side with his hip playfully. “It’s perfect, thank you,” he says while chewing, earning a roll of your eyes. You hate it when someone talks with their mouth full, so he quickly swallows the remains and goes, “Sorry.”
You shake your head with a laugh then turn away to get his coffee. Simon can’t help but wonder if this is how things would always be if you were his wife, if you would be this kind and caring all the time. He certainly could get used to this. He wouldn’t believe he deserves all the love, but he would definitely enjoy your attention.
“What got you thinking so hard?”
Simon lets out a questioning hum before realizing he zoned out for a while. “You,” he replies honestly.
“Me?”
“Mm-hmm.” Before you could ask more questions, he moves in front of you, trapping you between the kitchen island and his body as he leans down to you. “I had an interesting conversation with someone and it got me thinking while I was gone,” he says with his lips moving so close he almost kisses you. “Do you have any idea how much I miss you when I’m deployed? How many times do I wonder what you’re doing while I’m away?”
It’s easy to tell, especially from this close, that your heart is racing and your breath is caught in your throat as you watch him. Your eyes are moving back and forth between his lips and his eyes, unable to decide what to focus on. You’re both under a spell that he doesn’t want to break, in fact he wants this moment to last forever, this anticipation before he finally makes up his mind to kiss you. He wants to do it, but he can’t help but think about whether or not you would be against it.
Maybe he thinks too much, maybe his brain is too focused on the negative thoughts, and before he knows it, you move your head to capture his lips with yours in a slow and sensual kiss. Simon is aware that he has issues. He understands that his brain is only on high alert because deep down he doesn’t believe he deserves your attention. After all, he’s not a good man. Well, not always. He does his job like a good little soldier, but the lines are blurry between good and bad.
He knows that you know this too. Shortly after he moved in and found out what he did for a living, you had a lot of questions, many that he simply wasn’t allowed to answer. But you probably sensed that he was keeping things to himself, certain aspects of this position that civilians would never understand. He didn’t want to scare you away, he didn’t want you to throw him out, so he kept his mouth shut. You knew that and never pried for more information.
When your nails dig into the skin on his back in a desperate attempt to pull him closer, Simon finally returns to the moment, returning your delicious kiss while his hands grab your ass and help you on the counter behind you. His lips trail from your lips to the shell of your ear, whispering praises until he feels your hands moving to his belt.
As much as he wants that, he knows he has to stop you. So he reaches down to grab your hands, pulling them away and lacing his fingers with yours as he kisses the tip of your nose. “Not yet, love. Let’s go on a proper date first, yeah?” he asks you with a small smile.
You whine, then you beg for more, asking him why you have to go on a date when you've been living together for over a year now. He tells you that the reason is simple; he spent a bigger part of it away from home so you have to get to know each other.
“I know you, Simon,” you push on, your fingers tracing the tattoos on his forearm as you speak. When you see the determination in his eyes, you finally let out a sigh of defeat and say, “Okay, fine. Let's go on a date first. But don't even think about something fancy. Let's keep it simple.”
With a short laugh, he leans down to give you a quick kiss. “Understood.”
Later in the evening, way past eleven, the two of you finally say goodnight and he returns to his room. There's a message waiting on his phone, one that came from Johnny. “I’ll send her a DM if you won't introduce me,” it says.
“Better not. She's taken,” he replies.
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lqvesoph · 1 month
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She‘s WHOSE daughter??? || LN4
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gif by @formulaonedirection
lando norris x webber!reader
summary: After releasing your new album you go to the Bahrain Grand Prix to finally see your two favorite Aussie’s. What you didn’t expect is to meet a certain Brit as well.
part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5
masterlist | taglist
Part 1
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yn.adams: Thank you for all the love on GUTS!!! Tour is coming I promissssse but now off to Bahrain🏁
comments:
gracieabrams: YOURE UNREAL
rachelzegler: all american t*ts frr
danielricciardo: Okay who am I fighting today🥊
oscarpiastri: See u in Bahrain (finally)
> yn.adams: FINALLY!!!
> oscarpiastri: You‘ve become busy since becoming a world star🥲
fan: SHES COMING TO BAHRAIN!!!
> fan: FINALLY!! Its been ages
fan: Has she ever been to a race??
> fan: Well… I mean obviously LMAO😭
fan: U supporting Red Bull or Mclaren this weekend?
> yn.adams: Rbr obviously!! Not even Oscar can get me into that orange Garage🤨
> oscarpiastri: It’s PAPAYA!!!
load more comments
*~*~*~*~*~*
"GOOD MORNING!!!", an australian accent yelled into your ear just moments after you entered the Bahrain paddock.
You flinched, immediately slapping the person’s arm. "Daniel!!!", you called and pushed the driver away from you as he tried to pull you into a hug.
"I‘ve missed you so much", he mumbled, pressing you close to him and ruffling your hair after, which made you slap his hand away from your head.
"You seen Osc yet?“, you asked, looking around you, spotting a few photographers whose camera’s where direct to you. Daniel shook his head. "Nope, I thought you‘d come together. I‘m surprised you’re only here now."
You rolled your eyes and kept walking with Daniel. "I was on a video call with my team, discussing the upcoming tour. We gotta work out a schedule and call the venues and stuff", you replied. "We‘ve been on there even before the album came out and I still haven’t completely made up my mind."
"Indecisive little shit", Daniel laughed, making you slap his arm with a chuckle. You made your way to the Red Bull hospitality, Daniel waving at a few people from Mclaren that he was still friends with even after he left the team at the end of the 2022 season.
"I think Kelly and P are in there", he told you before hugging you goodbye. "If you see Oscar, tell him I‘m looking for him", you said, smiling and ruffling through Daniel‘s hair as some sorta revenge, before quickly stepping back and running up the stairs to the entrance.
Daniel laughed and pointed a finger at you. "I‘m gonna get you back!" You giggled and waved as you walked backwards into the hospitality.
Looking around the room you quickly spotted Kelly with her daughter Penelope sitting on a creme coloured couch.
"Heyy, honey", she greeted you and got up to hug you. "Hey, darling", you then said and lifted Penelope up who was reaching her arms out to you.
Just when you sat down, your phone chimed with a new message.
Osc🧡: Meet me in front of Mclaren
You: I‘m not going in tho
Osc🧡: Well I can’t really walk into Red Bull can I?
You: 🙄okay
"I‘ll be back soon, Oscar just texted", you let Kelly know and high fived P who giggled as you did. Jeez, how much you missed that little sunshine!
You glanced around the front porch of Mclaren‘s hospitality but didn’t spot Oscar. And as you didn’t just want to walk into the building you stayed where you were, next to the steps leading up to the entrance.
"You walked in with Danny, right?", someone spoke behind you, making you turn around. The confused expression on your face quickly leaving when you came face to face with the other Mclaren driver.
He sat at one of the tables with another curly haired guy and a blonde girl.
You nodded. "Yeah", you simply said. "You wanna come up here?", he asked, gesturing to the empty chair next to him.
You‘ve never spoken to Lando Norris, all you knew about him was through stories from either Oscar or Daniel. You knew that he spent some of his winterbreak with Danny and Martin in Australia. Daniel had asked you to come along as well but you were busy with the release of your new album so you had to decline.
You looked around you one last time, trying to find Oscar but failed, so you nodded and took the few stairs up to the table the three of them were sitting at.
As you stood directly in front of them, you saw how the blonde girl recognized you. You‘ve always been good at reading people but over the last years you‘ve become incredibly good at telling whether people recognized you when facing them. Even if they try their hardest to hide it, that small second when their eyes widen in realization was enough for you to tell.
"I‘m Lando", he introduced himself, holding a hand out to greet you. "Y/n, nice to meet you", you smiled, trying to ignore the urge to tell him 'I know, I‘m friends with Daniel and Oscar'. "Max and Pietra, friends of me", he then gestured over to the people sitting across from you.
"So, how do you know Daniel?", Lando asked, crossing his arms on the table. "I‘ve known him since I was 8 years old, I think", you smiled, remembering tiny 8 year old you giggling and blushing when first talking to Daniel at the British Grand Prix. "Really?", his eyes widened. "How did you meet?" "Uh, through my dad, he‘s from Australia as well", you answered, leaving out most of the details.
"You‘re australian?", Lando questioned with raised eyesbrows. "No no, my dad is. My mom‘s from America and I kinda grew up between California and Canberra", you explained.
"However, for some reason she likes to ignore her australian origin", a voice said behind you, making you smirk as you recognized the familiar Melbourne accent.
You turned around in your chair and stood up before wrapping your arms around Oscar. "Hey, princess", he laughed. "How‘ve you been?"
"Bit stressful with Tour at the minute but it feels so good to be back here!", you grinned.
As you turned back to the other three, you couldn’t help but notice Lando‘s confused face. Maybe it was the fact you basically jumped Oscar or that he‘d called you 'princess', something he‘s been doing ever since your first Tour when you got gifted a little crown from your fans because it matched the dress you were wearing on stage.
"I se you‘ve made friends already, might wanna stay here for the race?", Oscar asked with a smirk. You slapped the back of his head in an affectionate way. "Nuh uh, nice try, Piastri", you chuckled. "I‘ll be watching from Red Bull, you know that."
The confused expression on Lando‘s face only seemed to deepen with everything you said so you gave him a quick explanation. "My father used to work at Red Bull, so it‘s the team I‘ve grown up with and I‘m not leaving that."
Oscar snorted at you little white lie but you rammed your elbow into his side to get him to keep quiet.
Lando nodded, still slightly confused by the way you and Oscar acted with each other but before he could question it, a team member walked out of the door and told the two drivers to start getting ready for the race.
"I‘ll see you later, okay? You‘re driving back with Daniel?", your best friend asked. "I haven’t talked to him about it but-" "Okay, then I‘m taking you back to the hotel", he interrupted you with a grin.
"Jeez, splitting my time with you two like you‘re my parents", you laughed but agreed and hugged the driver goodbye.
"Bye, bye!", you waved to Lando, Max and Pietra before walking back over to Red Bull.
*~*~*~*~*~*
After the race and all the podium celebrations, you waited in front of the Mclaren hospitality for Oscar, scrolling mindlessly on your Twitter while ignoring the 22 unread messages from your management.
"Hey, Y/n", a voice said behind you, making you look up from your phone. "Lando, hi. Congrats on your race", you smiled. "Thanks, could’ve been better but we‘ll try again next week", he shrugged.
"Jeddah, right?", you asked, not having memorized the calendar quite yet. The driver nodded and played around with the orange lanyard in his hands.
"You coming?", he dared to ask after a few seconds and from the way his fingers fiddled with the orange band faster, you could tell how nervous he was. You shrugged. "I don’t know yet, I’m quite busy with work at the minute, so probably no. But I‘ll definitely be in Melbourne", you replied, trying to lighten the mood by adding the last sentence.
"Pietra told me you’re a singer", he revealed, making you smile at the memory of the blonde girl. "I could tell she recognized me", you admitted. Lando chuckled. "She said she tried her hardest to not let it show but was freaking out on the inside! She‘s actually quite mad at herself for not asking you for a picture!"
You giggled again and shook your head. "She could’ve asked, I wouldn’t have minded", you said with a small smile. "If she’s at a Grand Prix just let me know and I promise I‘ll find her." "I‘ll let her know", he nodded and looked to the ground with the cutest smile you have seen in a while.
The combination of the brunette curly hair, the british accent, the smile and his dimples, drove you crazy and made you heart skip a few beats. But you tried your best to keep it together.
Little did you know that Lando quite literally felt the same about you. Your long hair, along with the color of your eyes and especially your smile made his heart beat a little faster as well.
You stayed in silence for a few seconds, just looking at each other admiringly before a voice interrupted your starring.
"Princess!! Sorry for being late!", Oscar called while walking out of the hospitality with Lily‘s hand in his. You smiled at the sight of your best friend’s girlfriend and send her a little wave which she returned with the hand that wasn’t wrapped in Oscar‘s.
"That‘s okay, I had Lando to keep me company", you chuckled, making the brit smile a little. "You ready?", Oscar asked and you nodded.
He said goodbye to Lando and started walking down the stairs.
"I’ll see you in Australia?", Lando asked one last time. You nodded your head with a smile. "Oh for sure, I wouldn’t miss this race for the world!", you chuckled. "Great!", Lando whispered under his breath and gave you a little wave which you returned before following Oscar and Lily.
"What do you think of him?", Oscar asked as soon as Lando was out of hearing range. "Lando? He’s pretty cute", you simply stated, not daring to mention the other words floating around your head. Nice, pretty, gorgeous, hot and handsome were just a few examples.
"Why do you ask?"
Oscar smirked. "No reason, really!"
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tagged: redbullracing, danielricciardo, oscarpiastri
yn.adams: bahrain dump (feat. my two favorite aussies)
comments:
oscarpiastri: You‘re an aussie as well…
> yn.adams: But I‘m not tho…🤷‍♀️
> oscarpiastri: Y/n🤨
danielricciardo: I‘m shown before Oscar
> yn.adams: rolling my eyes as we speak
> fan: LMAOOO
fan: Am I seeing you in the Mclaren garage?
> yn.adams: JUST FOR A SECOND!!!
fan: The race weekend is better when ur there
liked by yn.adams
fan: How does she know Oscar and Daniel??
> fan: Through her dad obviously
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landonorris started following you
Part 2
taglist
Please tell me if you want to be added to the taglist or text be if you want to be taken off x
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targaryenluvs · 4 months
Text
— OPPOSITES ATTRACT
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pairings: clarisse la rue x aphrodite!daughter!reader (romantic) percy jackson x reader (platonic)
summary: the one where percy jackson has to wrap his head around the fact that the nicest person he’s met at camp, is dating clarisse.
warnings: kinda crack ficy in my opinion, fluff, smooches, capture the flag, reader is percy’s saving grace, percy sees the reader as a sister
a/n: i just got inspired okay? ✊🏽
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percy’s feet were booming, heard from afar as he ran to the creek’s shore. the ares trio hot on his tail as they chased him down. he knew he couldn’t run forever, he’d have to fight, but how on earth was he going to win against three trained teens?
as if clarisse wasn’t frightening enough already, her scream sent literal chills down percy’s back, guess she really likes spears? he thought to himself.
the sounds of cheers and celebration drew the pairs attention as luke planted the opposing teams flag into the floor. they’d lost. percy felt clarisse’s grip falter, only slightly, but not when she saw the flag, clarisse’s eyes were currently trained on something behind him. more bullies? “there you are! i was waiting for you, wanted to show you my new and improved skills.”
clarisse let go of him and he couldn’t believe it, the rage in her eyes seemed to dissipate the second you came around. you, the sweetest person he’d met here, were friends with that thing?
that thing was capable of feelings?
his jaw dropped at the sight of clarisse’s hands on your cheeks, listening to you ramble on about who you’d fought and defeated in the woods, the pretty butterfly you’d seen. percy’s eyes were so close to popping out of his skull as clarisse kissed you, deeply. then he wanted to vomit as hands traveled and tongues met.
at dinner that night you sat by luke and chris, happily eating away as your hand rested on a book infront of you. “hey perce! come sit down.” you patted the space next to you as he accepted. “what’re you reading?” percy stared at the cover you’d flipped over to display to him, well he wasn’t expecting that. “where’d you get it from?” you pointed towards your girlfriend proudly, “she said she knew i’d like it, isn’t that sweet?”
percy’s weird version of a smile caused you to frown, “your smile is scaring me.” he immediately dropped it as you laughed, causing him to nudge you. “don’t be rude, i’m just a baby.” percy hadn’t felt so comfortable with someone since his mother. you pinched his cheeks, “naw, yes you are.” he swatted your hands away as you giggled, percy stared at you, studying you.
shining eyes, a beaming smile and an enchanting personality, truly a daughter of aphrodite, yet you dated clarisse. it didn’t make sense in his head, but from what little scenes he’d seen between the two of you, if you were happy than he was too, “what do you see in clarisse? why are you with someone so—” you turned to look his way, percy was worried you’d be offended.
but of course you weren’t, “because i like her percy, and she likes me. she’s absolutely gorgeous, if she wasn’t already a daughter of ares or i didn’t know? for sure aphrodite. and, people are always misunderstood, just because someone seems like a bad person, doesn’t mean they are. when clarisse and i are together, i see the best parts of her, always. i love her regardless, but there’s obviously things that you don’t tell everybody you just meet, or if you aren’t super comfortable with a person then you won’t show all the parts of yourself. i think, when you love someone you accept all parts of them, the good, the bad, the worst. you love someone despite their flaws. clarisse is good to me, and i like her, that’s all that matters. you’ll understand when you find someone yourself perce.”
he sat still, raking over your words in his head, “if one person can feel that way about someone else, they’d explode.” you laughed at his words, he was still young of course, he’d understand soon, you had a feeling. “i’d happily explode because of how much i love her.” you glanced back at her, only she wasn’t there.
“well i don’t want you to explode, i do want to spend my night with you.” clarisse stood behind you with her arms crossed, you could see percy tense up at her presence. with your hand on his, and your eyes reassuring him, he smiled, “i’m happy for you, but if she try’s anything i’m more than happy to beat her ass for you even if i’m broken in half.”
clarisse couldn’t hear his whispers, thank god. your smile was small, placing a hand on his shoulder, you kissed percy’s forehead, “my protector, now no one can try anything with me huh? thank you perce, if you need anything here at camp, or if you just want to talk and eat those blue foods of yours—” his arms wrapped around your neck tightly as you recovered from the force.
“thank you.”
“any day perce, any time.”
and percy sat back, watching the two of you walk away hand in hand. a clear thought rung through his head.
opposites attract.
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rynbutt · 21 days
Text
pierced. | spencer reid.
Moving into a new apartment in a new city is stressful, what's even more stressful is when there's a fucking murder in the apartment across from yours... at least the fbi agent is cute.
you can find the other parts on my masterlist.
cw: fem!reader, 18+ piercing, fluffyish, reader has pierced tiddies, flirting, wondering if i should do a part 2 fr
a/n: coming from a pierced nipple girly who wants a cute boy to knock on her door. also enjoy <3 and follow >:) also yay for the first thing i've posted :3
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You let out an exasperated sigh as you collapsed another cardboard box.
Moving into a new apartment was fun in theory, but the practice of filtering through everything you own and finding a neat little spot for it? not so much. You took a long sip from your now cold cup of coffee before glancing across the room at the looming pile of cardboard boxes that just stood there and mocked you.
You picked up the next box of what was probably clothes and took a box cutter to the almost twenty layers of tape across the seam (it wouldn't stay closed, in retrospect you should have made up another box but you were really determined to make it fit at the time).
You ripped the rest of the tape off and put your hands on your hips, glancing at your cat Tofu on the couch.
"Care to help?" you asked... the cat. Tofu proceeded to curl into herself and begin grooming tubby belly. "I guess not."
There was an abrupt knock on your apartment door, Tofu scattering to the wind at the sudden sound. You furrowed your brows, confused as to why anyone would be knocking on your door.
You had moved here a matter of days ago, knew no one and were far too broke for doordash. You ignored it for a moment, thinking whoever resided on the other side of the door had the wrong apartment. When the knock came again, you thought you'd better answer this time.
You opened the door ajar, just in case it was someone who wanted to steal any of the maybe four things you'd managed to unpack. A tall darker skinned man looked down at you, "Yes?"
"Hi ma'am, I'm Agent Morgan and this is Dr. Reid, we're with the FBI," he introduced himself, holding up his credentials for you to peek at. You opened the door the rest of the way, glancing at the second tall man standing in your door way. He had messy hair just below his ears and was wearing a collared shirt with two black pens tucked into the pocket over his chest, he was cute. He pulled his lips into a tight line and held his hand up in a wave.
Spencer's eyes glanced down your body briefly. He has certainly seen some strange outfits when people answer their doors but none that made his skin run hot like this.
You wore a baby blue tank top and grey adidas shorts, he could see a small sliver of skin between your two garments but that's not what caught his eye. You had your nipples pierced.
Now, Spencer really didn't mean to stare but they were right there. The air of your apartment was clearly chilly given how your nipples pressed against the fabric. He could see the little studs on either side of your hardened nipples and he felt like a Victorian boy seeing an ankle for the first time.
"Oh no, you found me," you joked, laughing at yourself lightly. They didn't laugh. Your smile dropped, "I'm joking. Uh, come in, please." You stood aside, letting the two men into your basically bare apartment.
"Just move in?" Morgan asked, looking around your small living room.
"Uh, yeah, yeah. I'm starting a new job in a week," You replied, trying to make small talk. "What exactly are you here for?"
"There was a murder in the apartment across from yours," Dr. Reid said abruptly, stealing the air from your lungs.
Your eyes were blown wide, "What?"
"Young woman like you, stabbed to death-"
"Reid," Morgan warned, shaking his head softly at the younger man.
"Shit, that sucks," you replied, glancing between the two men. "I assume you're talking to me because I live close by, huh?"
"It's just procedure," Morgan replied. "Can you tell me where you were around 11pm last night?"
"Uh, yeah. I was here, I had a lot to unpack, you know?" You replied honestly, wondering how you didn't hear that someone was being murdered across the hall.
"And you didn't hear anything?" Morgan asked, eyebrows furrowed as he stood to face you.
"No, no I honestly didn't. I had my headphones on while I was unpacking, I went to bed around midnight." Were you incriminating yourself? Maybe you should make some friends so you don't get caught up in this kind of stuff.
"The UnSub we're looking for is white male, mid 20s to 30s, seems out of place. Have you seen anyone like that around?" Dr. Reid asked.
"No, I mean, I just moved here, I don't know anyone. I haven't left my apartment since I got here," you replied, looking Dr. Reid in the eye. You caught him glancing down at your boobs for a moment before he caught himself, clearing his throat.
It was only then that you realised what you were wearing. Fuck. Two FBI agents, one of whom was your type to a T came to question you about a murder and your nipples were gazing upon the world like a deer in headlights.
You quickly crossed your arms across your chest before scampering across the room to grab your hoodie off your couch. You pulled it over your head before staring at the two men awkwardly, your skin feeling hot.
"I'm sorry about... my attire, I didn't even-"
Morgan smiled, chucking softly, "Please, this is your home, sweetheart." Morgan glanced at Spencer, who suddenly found the ceiling utterly fascinating. "You mind if I have a look around? We suspect he used the fire escape."
"Of course, yeah. You can see it from the bedroom," you replied, being left alone with the cute doctor. "You seem young to be a doctor," you said softly, trying to make small talk.
"Scarring, tearing and nerve damage is possible when you get your," he coughed, "nipples pierced... infections and bleeding are also common," he quickly said, lips pulled into a tight line.
"Mm, cute and smart... well, I've had them for five years so... I think I'm safe, Dr. Reid," you replied with a chuckle.
"Spencer," he muttered.
"Huh?"
"Spencer, it's my name. Spencer Reid," he said, hands clutched tightly around the strap of his leather satchel.
"Spencer," you smiled, "I'm Y/N."
"Well, we better get out of your hair," Morgan returned from your room, glancing between you and Spencer for a moment. "Let's go, Reid."
You opened the door for them, Morgan thanked you as he left and started down the hall to the elevator. Spencer paused for a moment, glancing at you for briefly before walking out the door.
"Hey," you called softly. Spencer spun around to look at you and you definitely couldn't let him escape without your number. "Do you have a girlfriend?"
"Uh, girlfriend? I, uhm-"
"He doesn't!" Morgan called from down the hall, making you smile.
"You don't know that!" Spencer retorted, making a face at Morgan who was grinning.
"So... you do?" You asked.
"...No, I don't." He muttered.
"Okay, well," you laughed, plucking the pen from the pocket of Spencer's shirt. "Call me sometime," you scribbled your name and number with a little heart onto a scrap piece of paper that once wrapped your toaster.
"Yes... Okay, I will," he replied nervously, holding your number in his hands gently. He glanced at it, a smile beaming across his handsome face.
"You, uh, might wanna go before your partner loses it," you giggled after a beat. Spencer muttered a quick 'oh' before walking quickly toward the elevators.
"Bye," Spencer said softly, waving at you with a little smile.
"Bye, Dr. Reid!"
Spencer stepped into the elevator with Morgan, the silence palpable in the tiny mental container.
"'Bye, Dr. Reid~'," Morgan raised his voice an octave, planning to tease Spencer relentlessly and text the group chat as soon as they got to the car.
"Shut up!"
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reblog and follow me :3 also come chat, i love to yap.
dividers by @cafekitsune
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sanjisblackasswife · 8 months
Text
Thinking about how OPLASanji is a more closeted pervert than an open one. (Part 1)
IHadTo.
Blk Fem Reader x OPLA Sanji
CW: Sanji has tattoos(🌚), Suggestive, Kissing, Touchy Touchy Sanji, ….please read his dialouge in his voice. No smut BUT next time will be filthy smut<_< just setting up the plot here okaayyy i havent wrote in a while.
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“So fucking pretty..”
“You say ‘sum Sanji?”
“Nothing, madam.”
Sanji was relentless. Him so new to the crew you and him managed to get pretty close quite quickly. It’s been a few weeks now and Zoro has pointed out about 15 times already how touchy and —in his words “Freaky” he is towards you.
“Either you’re that dense or just as perverted as him because how can you not feel his dick against your ass when you both are—“
“Zoro.” Nami cut him off with a stern tone, you blink at them both on the deck. “Enough, okay.”
“Somebody had to say it,” Zoro took a sip of his drink, settling back down on the chair, “It’s been constant dry foreplay from you both and it’s annoying—“
“…Sorry.” You murmur, not really sure how to answer to him, he looks at you, scoffing. “I don’t think sanji is intentionally being like that he just—“
“Well he is. A blind man can see how he fucks you with his eyes.”
Slightly confused as to why Zoro would even think Sanji is a pervert. He isn’t. He can’t be??
He’s so sweet, and charming, you can’t deny he was one of the few men you met that have caught your attention; his dimples exposing themselves when you make him smile, his pretty delicate hands that grabs ahold of yours when he kisses your knuckles, his pretty jewlery, and when he speaks in your ear, that fucking accent of his—-
…maybe him being a pervert wasn’t too bad.
I mean, he wasn’t hurting you nor ever made you uncomfortable? You both are adults.
And adults have needs.
And if two adults have attraction for one another then…well…it shouldn’t matter much?
You shook off what Zoro said and headed back to the kitchen, maybe he was just teasing you again.
But if he wasn’t…you could possibly make use of this new information.
——-
“Y/n, my love, how are you babe? Thirsty?” Sanji smiles at you, already preppping for dinner you grin warmly back at him and take a seat at the table, his eyes follow your figure, trailing down to your waist, and glued to your ass until you sat down.
For a moment you were quiet, not responding yet to his question, but admiring Sanji’s hands, how quickly he can chop food, how pretty his fingers are, you nearly nip at your lip when you notice him roll up his sleeves and see—-
“Oh!” Your eyes widen mindlessly, you walk towards the large kitchen island and lean over, “You have tattoos?”
How could have you not notice? it’s been almost a month being together and you never peeped? He had a half sleeve done and honestly it looked so..
“You like?” Sanji’s chuckle makes you break out of your daze. “I got my first one when i was 16. And then well, it became a slight addiction.”
You stare back at his forearm again, the pretty art marked on his skin, noticing the veins complimenting it made you nip at your lip again. He smiles, your pretty round eyes watching him as he cooked, but again.
Sanji’s eyes wondered.
You were in a trance at his tattoos, trying to count and see every detail of them you didn’t even notice your breast spilling out of your low cutted tank top onto the counter.
Your pretty brown chest, literally shining from a mixture of a bit of sweat and lotion you put on earlier with your small gold necklace dangling in between your clevage, Sanji tries to tear his eyes away, but he can’t help it.
You’re so fucking gorgeous. He seen you and Nami and he was already infactuated with you both, but you seemed to be more open to entertaining his flirtatious advances than Nami so he started to fall for you a bit more.
Hugging him at Arlong Park really got him going, your breast pressed against his, the way you kissed his cheek, and you were just so happy to see him he almost felt his pants get tight from that alone.
He wanted you bad it was almost admirable and pathetic.
“I have more tattoos. Y’know if you ever wanna see ‘em.” He teased, knowing damn well he was serious.
“Hmmmm.” You walk around the counter to face his side, finger tracing the rim of the counter top. “Well maybe….where are the others?”
“I have one on side, one on my shoulder, on my back—“
“Your back?” Your eyes lit up. “Can I see?”
Sanji started to stammer, “I— um… Really? You sure?…..okay just…give me a moment.”
You giggle at his urgency to clean up his mess, putting the roast in the oven he walks towards the kitchen door and locks it, his mind running a mile a minute he turns to face you to see you happliy sitting on the counter smiling, “C’mon lemme see! I love back tattoos!”
Sanji exhales, unbuttoning his shirt he feels your gaze, once his shirt is fallen to the ground he turns, you nearly gasped seeing the huge tattoo on his spine.
His very pretty spine.
“woah.” Sanji hears your footsteps approach him, he hisses slightly at your touch, you did always have a habit of touching when not asked. “It’s so pretty.”
Your hands start to move around the outline of the art, also noticing the small scars and bruises he has gotten in past fights. You lightly touch one, and he immediately turns around, causing you to jump, “Oh. Sorry.”
“No, it’s alright. You like them?”
“Mmhm…” you land your hand on his shoulder tattoo, not even taking note to how closer sanji approached you.
You both stare at each other for a moment, it was only 2 seconds but it felt like an eternity until Sanji decided to close the gap between you both.
His lips were so soft against yours you couldn’t hold in any moan you had released, you felt his hand cup your cheek, moving you backwards onto the counter, the kisses started to get more intense the more access you allowed him into your mouth.
Nothing but the sounds of water crashing, usopp and Luffy outside playing and heavy breathing filled the kitchen. Sanji just couldnt help himself—-
His mind was fuzzy, he knew in the back of his mind he shouldn’t have been so bold with his actions but to feel your body weight against his,
a slap or two was worth it, but it never came.
Sliding his tongue inside your mouth he pushes his leg in between yours, you really don’t know why you haven’t stopped him yet, maybe it’s the way he so easily picked you up by your ass and sat you on the counter, or maybe it’s how his hands are squeezing your breast, but you knew eventually you had to—-
“Okay!” You pulled off, both of you trying to catch your breath, “Wait…I….Sanji…”
He stared at you like a lost dog, damn near ready to get scolded with his pink puffy lips, you giggled. Holding his cheek, “I’m..sorry.”
You knew he shouldn’t have been sorry, he only did what you allowed him, and luckily he was a great kisser so it wasn’t anything you technically regret doing.
“Sorry for what?…I liked it.” You took his hand and teased, “Unexpected, but…I like it.”
You brush his hair back, going in for a slower and deeper kiss, your felt his cold palms rub the sides your your bare thighs, pulling you closer so you can throw your arms over his shoulder.
You nor him haven’t had this kind of touch from another person in a long time, and you both were clearly attracted to each other …so…why not bite the bullet?
“Let’s go to my room, Sanji…”
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nadvs · 1 month
Text
cam girl (part twelve) (end)
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
rating explicit 18+
content warning alcohol use
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summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.
» masterlist
*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*
Rafe realizes his hands are shaking as he rereads your text.
His eyes keep going over your words, standing up off his bed and pacing around his room just because the adrenaline won’t let him stay seated.
Why the fuck are you doing this to him?
i’m done. this is over. i’m not even a fucking person to you am i
Hot anger bubbles inside his chest. He immediately texts you back: what the fuck do you mean
Minutes pass. You don’t answer.
Rafe: ?????
Again. No answer.
Rafe: dont ignore me
He can’t take it anymore. He taps on the Call button. It rings and rings and rings. He texts you again.
Rafe: answer me
Finally, you respond: i dont need to listen to you. leave me alone
This has to be a cruel joke. Yet again, you’re cold to him out of fucking nowhere, after he thought you had a good time together.
Rafe recalls this morning, to the worried look on your face when you saw his black eye, making him think that maybe you see something of value past the wall he built around him.
He risked his pride by telling you that he always thinks about you, and now you’re done with him?
He texts you again: why are u acting like this
Thank fuck you respond.
You: i guess the slut got bored of you first
His body goes cold. He knows you’re referring to what one of his friends said. You heard that?
If that’s why you’re so pissed off, he needs to talk to you about it in person. He grabs his car keys and rushes out of the house.
Rafe is pounding on your door for so long that his hand is starting to hurt almost as much as it did when he threw those punches last night.
He feels himself teetering on the edge, getting close to the manic state he knows and hates.
He pulls his phone out to text you: open the door
You: ??? i’m not home
At this point, he sees red. He could break his damn phone if he didn’t need it right now. He calls you again, his jaw clenched so tight that it hurts.
His stomach tightens when the dial tone stops after two rings.
“Am I gonna have to block your number?” you say when you answer. The sound of a crowd and loud music buzzes in the background. He clues in that you’re at a party.
“Where are you?” he asks, head hanging, staring at the hallway floor.
“That’s none of your business.” He can hear a slur in your words.
“Are you drunk?”
“I can drink if I want to. I know you love to think you own me, but you don’t.”
Rafe swallows hard, shaking his head, squeezing his eyes shut. He heard your voice shake. Fuck. You’re crying and it’s his fault.
“Where are you?” Rafe repeats. “Let’s - we need to…” He’s stammering, anxious and unbalanced. “We need to talk… I swear, I’ll fucking wait here until you come home if you don’t tell me where you are.”
Your back is against a wall, the phone pressed to your ear. The room is loud and humid from all the bodies crammed together into one house.
You hate that you’re crying over him and you hate that he can hear it. As if his ego needs the boost.
“Why?” you finally ask, voice strained, hoping he’ll tell you what you want to hear. That there’s a part of him that cares about you.
Rafe is silent for a moment.
“Which one is it?” His chest is tight. He can’t say it now. Not over the phone.
“Neither,” you reply, then hang up. You know he’s just horny and possessive and mad. And definitely bluffing.
You shouldn’t, you know you shouldn’t, but you take another shot. Time melts away from you as you get lost in the music with your friend, determined to get Rafe and his drama off of your mind.
It’s half past one in the morning when you order a cab. The alcohol has almost worn off at this point. Someone spilled a drink on you and you just want to take a shower and sleep. You have to promise yourself that you won’t give into the impulse to wear Rafe’s shirt to bed.
You exit the elevator and your heart stops when you see Rafe sitting on the floor, his back against your door, his knee raised, his head slumped.
He meant it. He waited. For over three fucking hours.
When you get close enough for him to hear your footsteps, Rafe clambers up to stand, towering over you. His eyes sweep over your face, the blue in them even more prominent in contrast to the dark bruise over his right eye.
Even though your heart, the traitor, is thumping with desire, the ache of what he did to you is louder. It was barbaric, what he said about you. What he let his friend say about you.
“Why are you still here?” you say as evenly as you can.
“You can’t…” Rafe shakes his head, frustrated. He immediately notices you’re not wearing the necklace he gave you and his chest aches. “You can’t end this.”
“Watch me,” you say with a scoff, nudging past him. You feel him behind you, hear his shallow breaths. You unlock your door and pull out your keys.
He won’t move. You turn to look at him again, feeling your lips thin in aggravation.
“Rafe,” you state. “Please. I just want to shower and sleep. Go home.”
“No,” he says stubbornly.
“Why can’t you just go find another girl to fuck around with?” you say, raising your tone.
He almost feels nauseous hearing you say that.
“Are you worried you won’t find one who does everything like I do?” you ask. “I just can’t say no, right? That’s what you told your friends.”
Rafe looks down in shame, nostrils flaring. His lips screw up in anger. He has no words to offer.
“Go home,” you repeat. You’re sure he’s just upset about losing his favorite booty call, just so not accustomed to not getting what he wants.
Rafe doesn’t budge. You’re sober enough to know you can’t continue this conversation in the hallway and risk your voices carrying into your neighbors’ homes.
Frustrated and embittered, you turn your doorknob and accept the fact that he’s not leaving without a fight.
You turn on the dim overhead light and stand in your tiny kitchen, facing Rafe with your arms crossed, as the door shuts behind him.
He steps towards you, hands sliding up your arms before he leans down to try to kiss you.
“Stop,” you mutter, shoving him off, pushing him away.
He tries again, putting his palms on your cheeks.
“No,” you snap, driving him away harder.
Rafe feels hollow. Lost. He’s fine with showing anger. It’s second nature to him. But this? This tangled feeling of yearning feels impossible to verbally express to you.
“Why?” is all he can sputter.
“I’m not letting you use me anymore,” you say through gritted teeth.
Rafe had no idea you’d react like this over the moronic shit he and his friend said. He thought you were fine with how things were. That you were detached.
Despite the rage and anxiety consuming him, the fact that you’re this angry over this ridiculous idea that you’re not a person to him, that you maybe want to be more, makes hope bloom in his heart.
“It’s not like that,” Rafe says.
“It is,” you argue. “I’m done acting like I’m okay with it. I could handle it at the beginning, but…”
You sigh. You can’t give him the satisfaction of telling him you have feelings for him. You start to get choked up again, though, your body betraying you. You can’t hide what he does to you from him anymore.
“I’m done,” you say resolutely. This man is nothing but trouble. “My contact picture in your phone is a fucking nude. I’m just body parts to you and I respect myself too much to keep this going. Just leave. You won’t change my mind.”
“I can’t… I can’t not see you anymore,” he grovels.
“You’re just mad you won’t be able to brag to your buddies about what I let you do to me.”
“No.” Rafe brings the heels of his hands up to his eyes, looking so damn flustered. “I’m not mad about that. I… Fuck, it’s…”
“What about when he called me a slut to run through? You laughed. After he said something so fucking horrible about me-”
“Wait,” he snaps, tone rising. “Just wait. Let me talk.”
“Then talk,” you say sharply, shocked by his audacity to be the angry one here.
He takes a deep breath.
“When he called you that, I…” Rafe rakes his hand through his hair. “It’s how we always talk and I - I know that’s a shitty excuse, but I didn’t have the balls to tell him to shut the fuck up. And then last night…”
He vaguely gestures to his black eye. His mind replays the rage he felt when he heard the vulgar words used to describe you. The way his fist met his friend’s jaw. Rafe walked away with a swollen eye, but it was nothing compared to what he had inflicted.
“He said something about you and I beat the shit out of him like I should’ve the first time.”
“What’d he say?” you ask after a beat.
“It doesn’t matter.”
So, that’s what happened to him last night. You’re almost touched to hear he defended your honor, but the memory of the text you saw on his phone darkens your mood instantly, reminding you of how dispensable and cheap it made you feel.
“This the same friend who texted you about all the bitches at that party?” you say bitterly.
Rafe meets your gaze.
“You saw that?”
“Yeah,” you say. Rafe realizes that was the reason for your abrupt coldness. You were jealous. He hates that he hurt you, but admittedly, the feeling of you being envious over him is so fucking gratifying.
He sighs your name. He didn’t even glance at another girl last night. Why would he? “For fuck’s sake, I texted you all night. I told you I’m always thinking about you.”
“Rafe, you texted me about how all you want to do is hook up with me.”
“That’s not… that’s not all I want,” he sighs, defeated. How can he explain that the way he touches you is how he tells you what he’s feeling? He’s so fucking bad at talking about it.
“Then why did you talk about me like that?” you ask.
“I was…” Rafe begins. He swallows hard, his eyes refusing to meet yours now. “I know I shouldn’t have said that shit but-”
“You’re only saying this now ‘cause you got caught.”
“No, it’s - it’s more than that. I-”
“You were just being honest,” you say with a shrug. “I did everything you told me to and you wanted to brag.”
“Yeah- I mean, no…” he stammers. Your use of the past-tense is so damn hurtful, the implication that you really are through with him, and before he can think to hide it, tears start to gloss his eyes. “Just listen-”
“If I’m just an easy fuck to you, then that’s fine, just own up to it.”
“Let me talk!” he finally shouts. Rafe’s head is spinning. He’s angry and anxious and close to losing his mind.
You don’t even cower, not letting him get to you. But when you realize he’s crying, too, your blood runs cold.
“Goddamn it.” He frantically brings his hands up to his head, fingers on his temples. “I’m trying to tell you that I didn’t know how to- I don’t know how to talk about this fucking feeling you give me.”
“Try,” you say.
Rafe’s breath is shaky, blinking fast as he gazes at you.
“This is more than sex. I’m fucking… I’m falling for you,” he finally admits.
No words come to your mind. The air between you is thick. Your heart is pounding in your ears. Your stomach is numb.
Rafe lowers his gaze, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He’s worked himself up in such a panic.
He doesn’t know how or when you cracked into this side of him that he didn’t even know existed, but you did. And you’re not leaving.
“Are you serious?” you ask quietly through a shallow exhale.
“Do I need to beg you to believe me?” he says.
“Yeah,” you say with a sarcastic huff, pushing him to see where his limit is. To see if he’s being honest.
You can’t believe what you’re seeing when Rafe sinks down onto the floor in front of you, his knees on your cheap linoleum. He takes your hand in his, pulling it to his warm mouth, soft lips kissing your palm.
He realizes he would rather lose all of his pride than lose you.
“Rafe,” you say, the edge to your tone completely gone now.
The shift in your dynamic is harrowing. He’s always the one in control, the one with the upper hand. Now he’s on his fucking knees for you.
“I’m sorry,” he says, eyes locked on yours. “I’m so fucking sorry I said that shit. I’ll never do it again. You’re not just an easy…”
He can’t even say it.
“You’re so much more,” he says. There’s hopelessness in his gaze. You’re rattled with shock, your heart feeling like it’s burning in your chest.
You can’t believe it. You can’t fathom that he likes you more than just from the waist down.
“What if I stopped hooking up with you?” you challenge. “I keep seeing you but it’s nothing physical. What then?“
“That’s okay,” he says, without hesitation.
“I mean no sex,” you say. “At all.”
“Fine.”
You pout at him in endearment as relief pools through you.
Rafe is racked with the deepest form of desperation. He can’t picture a day without you. Without your smile, your humor, your voice, your smell. He fell off the deep end and there’s no fucking saving him.
Your stare is puncturing him. He’s sure he fucked up too massively to earn any sort of chance with you ever again.
But when you finally lean down to press your lips onto his, euphoria rushes through his entire being. He frantically scrambles to stand, feeling his face contort with disbelief and gratefulness and a yearning so hard that it hurts.
Rafe’s kisses are deep but fast, his big hands cradling your head, thumbs rubbing over your cheekbones.
You pull back, looking up at him with a tiny shred of remaining suspicion that he’s not being genuine.
“Let me stay the night,” he says, voice low, lids heavy. You’re unsure that he really means he’d be with you even without the sex.
You only look at him.
“I won’t try anything,” he adds. He knows you needed the reassurance. You stare at him with wide, vulnerable eyes, resting your hands on his firm, heaving chest.
“Shower with me,” you tell him, restless to wash the night off of you. “And prove it.”
Rafe nods, your face still in his hands. Fuck, he feels like you have him wrapped around your finger. He’d do anything to keep you in his life.
“Let me do the work,” he says.
You step back, heart racing, and raise your hands over your head. His fingers quickly find the edge of your top, slowly lifting it and pulling it off of you. Your jeans are next, the denim sliding down your legs.
Rafe presses against you, leading you backwards into your bathroom. His lips press against your forehead as he unhooks your bra and lets it fall to the floor.
He’s on his knees again as he peels your underwear off. You watch his eyes trail up your bare body. He can’t hide the lust in his stare, no matter how hard he tries.
As you turn on the shower, you hear the rustle of him taking his clothes off. When you step into the tub, you feel his body against your back. Big hands skim up your arms as you turn the faucet, prompting hot water to rain down on both of you.
Rafe can’t stop himself from asking.
“Did you talk to any guys at that party?” His voice echoes against the porcelain, loud even over the sound of the shower.
You smile to yourself.
“How am I gonna focus on another guy when you’re texting me so damn much?”
“Princess,” he huffs. You laugh and turn in his arms to rest your hands on his shoulders.
“No,” you tell him. “I didn’t want to.”
Rafe smirks and leans down, but stops an inch away from your lips.
“Am I allowed to kiss you?” he asks.
“Hmm… fine,” you tease. “But that’s the farthest you can go.” He captures your lips in his, his mouth warm. You feel him grow against you and you pull away to look down, his cock already almost fully hard.
“Okay, I can’t control that,” he says. You meet his eyes and share the first laugh that you’ve had together tonight.
You pick up your body wash and hand it to him. It’ll drive him crazy to touch you like this and not be able to do anything about it.
“You get my body,” you say, admittedly excited to tempt him. “And I’ll do my hair.”
Rafe’s forehead crinkles in concentration as he squeezes the body wash into his palm. Your eyes are on him as he lathers the gel over your shoulders first.
“You’re cute when you’re focused,” you giggle, starting to massage your shampoo into your hair.
The sound of your laugh, the aroma in the air is so fucking nice to him. It’s so you.
His palms move up and down your arms in gentle circles. Rafe’s groin is getting tighter by the second and the fact that he won’t get any relief for it is agony. But he needs to prove himself to you.
“You ignoring my tits on purpose?” you ask.
Rafe cocks his head in mild irritation. Touching you there will only make him harder. You exhale in pleasure once his hands rest on your breasts, gently kneading.
“You can’t make those sounds,” he says, voice strained.
“I can do whatever I want,” you reply. His hands dip below the curves of your tits. You purposely moan louder than you normally would just to torment him.
His jaw tightens as he collects more of your body wash to smooth down your stomach. His hands slide over your hips, the water and soap making your skin extra slippery, and he lands on your ass.
“Massage me a bit there,” you tell him. He huffs an aggravated chuckle, then starts to rub into your flesh.
The crook of Rafe’s neck is at your chin as he leans to massage you and you plant a gentle kiss on his wet skin. The gesture makes his stomach twist with adoration.
“Okay, that’s enough,” he mumbles, running his hands up your back. You can feel him against your leg; he’s fully erect and pining for you to touch him.
“My ass is still sore,” you groan, continuing to lather the shampoo onto your hair. “You were so rough on me in front the mirror, remember?”
The memory of fucking you on the floor in his room makes his arousal skyrocket even higher. He exhales and smooths his hands over your ass again.
You tilt your head to the side as you moan. You feel Rafe’s mouth press against your exposed neck, then he grunts against your skin and moves away abruptly.
“Getting frustrated?” you whisper.
“No,” he lies.
The hot water continues to ebb down your body as Rafe squeezes your ass.
“You can get my legs now,” you mumble. He’s half-relieved, half-frustrated to have to move his hands.
Rafe rubs in circles over your thighs, his breath heavy.
“Get on your knees so you can reach everything,” you say as you wash out the shampoo from your hair. You’re testing him, ordering him around like he usually does to you, seeing if he’ll crack.
When he kneels down, you hike your leg up onto the tub, your middle inches away from his face.
“Fuck,” he breathes, wishing he could just taste you. His hands are sliding down your calves as he gawks at the beauty between your legs, knowing you’re purposely tempting him.
His eyes trail up to your face. He looks ravenous for you.
Falling for you. He said he was falling for you.
“What?” you say with a smile. Rafe only shakes his head, continuing to run his hands over your legs.
“I said kissing is allowed,” you say, revelling in this feeling of control over him.
He doesn’t waste a second. His lips are against your pussy immediately, kissing you over and over. If you tried to keep count of how many kisses he was planting on you, you’d fail in seconds.
Arousal twists deep inside you, wanting him so badly, but loving the game you’re playing.
His lips wrap around your clit and he starts to suck, prompting you push your fingers through his hair, damp from the shower, and tug to pull him off of you.
“Kisses only,” you say. “Unless you didn’t mean what you said?”
“I did,” he huffs. He roughly shoves your wrist away to get close to you again, lips puckered. You feel his fingers ghost over your inner thighs, then pull apart your lips.
“Can I spread you open, baby?” he asks.
“No,” you respond.
“Please,” he begs.
“Kisses. Only.”
He groans. You laugh.
“You got me so turned on,” you moan. “I need to just…”
You slip your fingers between his mouth and your clit, denying him any more access.
Rafe thinks this could be thing to that finally makes him lose his fucking mind. But he stays still, knees aching from the hard tub, as you play with yourself right in front of him.
“That feels so nice,” you whisper, your knees weak. You put your other hand against the shower wall, looking down at him.
“Hold me up,” you order. He grips your hips and watches you moan and writhe over him, dipping your head back.
You dip a finger inside of you, tightening and sighing.
“Fuck.” He literally whimpers the word.
“God, there’s so many things I can think about while I touch myself,” you moan. “Like when we fucked in your car? Or when I squirted on you?”
“Which time?” he mutters, trying to have any sort of power right now by reminding you of what he can do to you.
“Aw,” you coo. “Is this like when I’m on camera? You can watch but you can’t touch me?”
“Shit,” Rafe breathes. You moan, the water dripping off of you.
He has to look away at this point. His cock is so hard that it hurts. His eyes go low, seeing a bead of precum on his swollen tip. He tries to comfort himself by thinking about how he can jerk off later.
“Get up,” you say. He brings himself up on his feet, towering over you again.
You turn your back to him again and start to rub your scalp to make sure you washed all the shampoo out.
“You’re probably cold on that side, hmm?” you ask.
Rafe’s temperature is the least of his concerns.
“I’ll keep you warm,” you tell him, looking over your shoulder. You run your hands down your body and pause over your ass, spreading yourself open.
“Put your cock right here,” you tell him.
“I- I can’t,” he moans.
“You can,” you encourage.
He kneels to place himself right where you want him. You let go, your asscheeks hugging him, feeling his length pressed up against you.
“Fuck,” he whispers, twitching against you. “This is… fuck…”
“If you didn’t mean that you can be with me without the sex, just say so.”
“I meant it,” he says. “But this is torture. I need to go. I’ll wait for you in your room, okay?”
“You can’t keep it together for me?” you tease. “I thought you liked me.”
“I fucking love you,” Rafe groans, making your heart flutter.
You’re done playing this game. You need him now.
You turn to face him, pulling him down with your hands cupping his neck to kiss him. He’s biting your bottom lip, kissing you hard.
“We don’t have to do this,” he whispers breathlessly.
“I want to,” you say against his lips, wrapping your hand around his cock. “What do you want?” He bucks up against you, groaning.
“I wanna fuck you,” he pleads.
“Then fuck me.”
Rafe’s rough and fast as he hitches your leg up, pushing you to lean against the shower wall. He lines himself up at your cunt, stretching you so much nicer than your fingers ever could.
He keeps his eyes on you when he thrusts into you, his expression both needy and satisfied.
“Thank you,” he whispers. The feeling of him thanking you for letting him be inside you hits you like a drug.
Rafe is in heaven. You squeeze him so fucking good as he rocks in and out of you. He needs to make you cum before he does. You deserve it. You deserve all the pleasure in the world.
When he starts to rub his thumb over your clit, you’re trembling with bliss. Everything in this moment feels so damn good.
“You’re my girl,” he mumbles, his usual possessive side back now. “Say it.”
“I’m your girl,” you respond. “Fuck… I love you.”
Rafe is sure he has never felt happier in his life. His thrusts get harder and faster, and with the pressure on your clit and the hot water coating your body, you whine through your orgasm.
To him, it’s a gift watching you reach your peak. You clench around him in rhythmic flutters and he can’t hold back anymore, his cum gushing out of him so fucking hard that he sees stars.
This is the best sex he’s ever had. Because now he knows it’s more than just something physical for both of you.
He kisses you hard as his body trembles, pumping into you. His forehead is against yours as you pant together and even though he’s exhausted, he stays inside you as long as he can manage.
When he pulls out, he brings his hands to your cheeks and kisses you again.
“You meant that?” he asks. He needs to know you that really do love him. That it wasn’t a heat of the moment thing. You look up at him, his lips parted, the water dripping down his face.
“Yes,” you say. His dimples are deep in his cheeks as he smiles at you.
As Rafe helps you clean up, he’s pissed at himself that he never did this before. He hates that you had to always do this alone. He won’t ever let that happen again.
Once you’re both lying in your bed, your bedroom dark save for a streetlamp casting a dull light through the window, Rafe holds you tight.
Your cheek is against his shoulder as he surrounds you in his arms. You both remained naked and the feeling of your bare bodies pressed together like this is perfection.
You softly trace your finger over the bruise covering his eye. The one his friend left on him because of something he said about you.
“What’d he say?” you ask.
“I’m not repeating it,” Rafe replies.
“Please?” you ask. “I wanna know what made you go crazy.”
“He said I seem happier lately,” Rafe says. “And before I told him it was because I wanna… be with you for real, he said… he wants to see if he could get…”
“God,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. He doesn’t have to say any more. His buddy wanted a turn with you.
“But hey, I’m not gonna let anyone say anything like that about you, okay?” he promises. “I’ll beat the shit out of anyone who tries to.”
You picture being out in public with Rafe, his arm around you. And you can’t help but ask. You need to know.
“So… are you gonna… want me around your friends and stuff?” you ask.
“Of course,” he tells you, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re my girl, right?”
It’s jarring. You’re not a lower-class maid to him. Not his personal whore. Not his slutty sugar baby. You’re a woman he loves.
Legs tangled, you fall asleep together, and you adore that the worry of falling for him is now gone. Because you’re in love, and so is he, and now you can enjoy him without telling yourself you can’t.
When you wake up the next morning, you shuffle in your position to find him, but you’re alone.
Your heart drops. Could he have been faking…?
You can’t jump to that conclusion. You’re about to check your phone when you hear crinkling coming from the kitchen.
You put on underwear and the shirt you stole from him a while ago before padding into the kitchen. He’s standing over your table, removing containers from bags.
You realize it’s from your favorite nearby bistro. He ordered food for you.
“Breakfast?” you ask. Rafe looks up at you and he doesn’t understand how every time he sees you, you strike him with how adorable you are.
“You hungry?” he says.
You settle across from him at the table. You realize he must have referenced the screenshot you sent him after the first night that he stayed over, when he sent you money to order breakfast and you sent him proof of what you bought.
As you dig into your food, you gaze at him. Blue eyes meet yours. He smirks. It doesn’t feel real. He used to look so out of place in your apartment, but this feels so natural.
“We gonna talk about how much of a cuddler you are?” you tease.
“Shut up,” he laughs. “Eat your food.”
You laugh and continue to chew.
“What do you have to do today?” he asks.
“I should study,” you say. “I was going to last night after work, but you know…”
Rafe looks down and his Adam’s apple bobs with his hard swallow.
“Are you gonna keep working?” he asks. “I don’t want you to. I wanna take care of you.”
As much as he loves seeing you around his house twice a week, he’s been getting more and more uncomfortable with the idea of you having to work so hard, having to clean up after him.
“Yeah,” you finally say. “I think I need to have the independence. To know I’m working for my own money. Does that make sense?”
“With your attitude? Yeah,” he says. You laugh.
You hope the gossip between your coworkers doesn’t get any farther up the chain. For now, you want to keep your job and the steadiness it promises.
“You can’t pull me away from my work to hook up whenever you want, though, okay?” you say.
“Even when I find you in my bed?” he asks.
“That was one time,” you scoff.
Rafe leans over to place his phone in front of you. He has your contact info up. The photo isn’t what it was before, though. It’s a photo of you sleeping, cheek pressed on his chest.
He must have taken it this morning. He wants to prove you’re not just a body to him.
Your eyes study his screen and you smile, oblivious to the fact that he’s staring at you.
But then again, you never really noticed how much he looked at you whenever you came to work at the house.
He can still remember the rush he felt when he randomly found you on that damn website. You were a fucking fantasy to him, a dream that he never thought he’d get to live out.
But here you are and by some crazy stroke of luck, you found something in him worth loving.
Rafe always enjoyed having some sort of ownership over you, claiming you as his. Because deep down, he always kind of knew he belonged to you. Whether you want him or not, he’s yours.
(the end)
author’s note: THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE AND SUPPORT FOR THIS SERIES 💘 it’s so bittersweet ending it. i had so much fun writing this and it’s because of your comments and messages 😭 i’ll be writing more fics! if you want updates, please follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications since i’ll be reblogging my work there. love you all!!!
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pearlywritings · 5 months
Text
'Mom' to his 'Dad'
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synopsis: just a collective bulleted drabble of all the thoughts I had about raising Yanqing together with Jing Yuan (yet somehow not being married (yet))
pairing: Jing Yuan x fem!reader
tw: fluff, domestic fluff, modern AU, CEO!Jing Yuan (because why not), dad!Jing Yuan, adopted son!Yanqing, from co-parenting to dating, from friends to lovers
word count: 1.8k+ words
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CEO!Jing Yuan who looks hella fine in any clothes, but especially good in gray and carmine red suits. Who absolutely hates wearing ties, but has zero complaint when you, after staying the night before, wrap one around his neck. He feels soft when you lecture him, but in the end say he looks good, smoothing the lapels of his jacket, making sure his appearance is intact before turning around and hurrying to check on Yanqing’s preparations for school.
CEO!Jing Yuan who is a great leader, a nice boss and obviously a great catch, but who also hasn’t shown any interest in any suitor who’s attempted to woo him in the last decade. And he is 33 already. There have been many gossips swirling in the company, most potent about you and him, rumored to be in a secret relationship and raising a kid together. Well… they are not wrong on the second part.
CEO!Jing Yuan who after the passing of his two friends took their eight-year old son under his wing. Who had never dealt with children, especially this young, but who was lucky enough to have you - a dear friend since university, now a coworker, understanding and compassionate enough to leave your house at 3am to drive all the way to his residence after just one frantic call.
CEO!Jing Yuan who will never forget that night - you, running into the house after he let you in, with hair still messy and clearly first clothes you dug from the closet thrown on you. You looked like a cute ruffled sparrow, which quickly transformed into a mother hen when he better explained his troubles about a little kid - now his adopted son - and how he couldn’t get him to fall asleep at the new place. You too didn’t know much about handling children, but you were willing to try and the white-haired man couldn’t ask for more. Both called off work the next day.
CEO!Jing Yuan who since then has a room in his house that belongs to you - over the years it got filled with your personal things, redesigned (twice!) to your tastes, and has been occupied over the years for almost half of each passing week.
CEO!Jing Yuan who adores Yanqing - the boy proved to be feisty, but at the same time he was very sweet and nice to have around. Jing Yuan didn’t think twice about adopting the little guy the moment he learnt of his friends’ passing, turning from a godfather to just a father. He, obviously, didn’t force Yanqing to call him dad, making up his mind that even if it never happens - it’s totally fine. Due to the age the boy could understand why his parents weren’t there and Jing Yuan was making all he could to give him a good life, a normal life. He was so lucky that you tugged along.
CEO!Jing Yuan who almost cried when Yanqing absentmindedly called him ‘dad’. The ten-year old didn’t even notice it, but to the man it meant the world. He spammed you with messages, all in caps and with weeping emojis, and felt his heart about to combust when you sent him a response full of excitement, congratulating him. And then messaged about how you wished to hear the boy call him dad the next time you were around. Damn, he wished so too.
CEO!Jing Yuan, who loves having you around. He melts when he returns to the living room after going to refill the snack bowl only to see Yanqing cuddled closely to you, staring at the screen with his head tucked under your chin. His lips tug into a wide smile when the boy asks you if you can be the one to get him from school tomorrow instead of Jing Yuan’s personal driver (and you always say ‘yes’, even if it means you’ll sacrifice your lunch break). A pleasant shiver runs down both his and the boy’s backs when you walk into Yanqing’s room to check on the two doing homework and gently scratch their heads. Jing Yuan loves the domestic life the two of you created.
CEO!Jing Yuan, who encouraged his son when a couple of years later he wondered if it’s okay if he started calling you ‘mom’. The man told him to approach you the next time you were staying over and ask your opinion on the matter. Which the boy did, shyly reaching out for your hand and when you gave it to him with a smile, dropped a bomb. Jing Yuan remembers the slight hesitation flashing in your eyes, how you lifted him and got him into your lap to be on the same eye level with him.
“Baby, are you sure?”
“Mhm. You’ve always been there. You raise me. And I really love you and want you to be my mom.”
“Even if I am not your father’s wife?”
“Maybe you should become her? But either way, yes.”
CEO!Jing Yuan who now can’t get the boy’s words out of his head. Yanqing is right - you’ve always been there. For them both. His, no, your son is thirteen now - meaning that for five years you’ve helped your friend raise the boy - you were not obligated to be there for his special events, you weren’t paid to take days off and sit with him when he was sick, no one asked you to kiss his forehead and tuck him into bed, there were no rules that said that you have to share his hobbies… Yet, you did. Always. And the man has always been very aware of that, but only his son’s words seem to open his eyes - both of you are his parents. Maybe it’s a shame you are not spouses.
CEO!Jing Yuan who feels kind of bad - you’ve spent 5 years of your life being a family to Yanqing and, admittedly, the man himself. You’ve given up searching for a partner, starting a family of your own just to make sure that the kid who has no relation to you grows healthy and happy. He can’t help but love and appreciate you.
CEO!Jing Yuan who finds out that you’ve been having similar thoughts about him after that conversation with your son. He really didn’t mean to overhear, he just wanted to drop by your office at the beginning of the break and offer to go get lunch together, only to stop at the mention of his name that passed through the door. Apparently, you sought advice from Yukong - the head of the logistics department, a fellow mother and one of the few who knew what your family dynamic was really like. You are concerned that you took the place that wasn’t meant to you - you worry that Yanqing got attached to you so strongly that should Jing Yuan start seeing someone, the boy would be too stubborn to accept.
CEO!Jing Yuan, whose heart skips a beat, when the teal-haired woman asks you, why you are not entertaining the possibility that you can be the one the man seeks a relationship with. The same heart drops into his stomach when you sigh and tell her of him never showing interest. Things seem platonic to you. Well, not to your coworkers, it appears.
CEO!Jing Yuan and you, who freeze in your seats, when at the end of the meeting a new secretary of the man asks if ‘Mrs Jing will also attend the event’ hosted by one of the company’s biggest clients. Confused, you look at your friend, who's equally stunned (but secretly, realizing what kind of mistake it is, fights back a tiny spark of delight). It turns out that the secretary thought the two of you were husband and wife and for that reason gave you the man’s last name. If it’s not the sign, then what is?
CEO!Jing Yuan who goes clothes shopping with you - because you both indeed are going to be at the event and the man insists the two of you buy something matching. When you ask why, he slyly smiles and promises that it’s his way of ‘showing interest’. At first you don’t get it. But when your cheeks heat up he knows the message is clear to you. You do call him a scoundrel and he heartily laughs at that, but you still reach out to his hand and he readily interlocks your fingers.
CEO!Jing Yuan who notices you getting flirtier, one time in particular not leaving his mind. He was comfortably sitting on the sofa, having everything he needed to push through the last bits of work he had decided to take home (‘everything’ being just his laptop and a mug of steaming tea). That’s when you approached him from the back, laying your palms on top of his shoulders, gently kneading the tense muscles, working a low appreciative grunt out of his throat.
“Yuan?”
“Mmm?”
“You look stressed,” fingers dug a little rougher into his flesh and the man groaned, shoulder flinching. Only for his whole body to go rigid when your voice fanned right against his ear, ”I know how to fix it.”
And then you innocently proposed to go to the gym together once he’d be done. Honestly? For a stunt like that Jing Yuan wanted to bite you.
CEO!Jing Yuan who does get his teeth onto you as you are trying to escape the trap of his arms after waking up from the cute cuddling session with Yanqing. Only for the boy to be gone upon your awakening (and you hear some shuffling in the kitchen) and a very hot man - your friend? boss?? unofficial-but-everyone-thinks-you-are-together lover??? - pressing your back into his chest with arms firmly circling your waist. When you attempt to move away, he suddenly surges forward and clamps his mouth onto the exposed juncture between your neck and shoulder. And nibbles.
“Jing Yuan!”
“Hufshf,” he mumbles into your skin, before releasing it and burying his face into your neck. “Don’t shout, you’ll alert Yanqing, and I want some more time with you.”
“...why?”
“Why?” He muses, and you feel a smile pressed to the back of your neck. “Because I think we’d make great as a couple.”
CEO!Jing Yuan who comes to an agreement with you that for the longest time it felt like the two of you were indeed a married couple. You share a place, you do most domestic things together, you go to places together, you raise a son together. And together you come to a conclusion that courting is due.
CEO!Jing Yuan who absolutely shares Yanqing’s sweet anticipation for when you will be able to legally adopt him. Which means - marrying his father (just let this man put a ring on your finger already).
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Text
Mr Confident - OP81
Summary: Oscar is a quietly confident man. But don't make the mistake of letting that quiet part mean he won't pursue someone he's interested in.
RB rookie driver!reader (Yuki is her teammate)
No part 2 request please
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The RB seat was changed so last minute. The grid had hardly got a chance to meet y/n. They had so many last minute things she needed to do. The only person who really got to know y/n before Bahrain's race weekend was Yuki as her teammate. Other than that she'd been pushed and pulled in every direction having to get photos and videos for the graphics done, seat fittings and media figured out.
She was somewhat of a mystery going into Thursdays media day and actually she'd somewhat clung onto to Yuki as a safety net.
Oscar couldn't help but notice her. Somehow they kept catching each other's gaze whenever in slightly close proximity to one another.
There's a time and a place to shoot his shot with y/n, which he figures there's no harm in doing.
He finally gets the opportunity after qualifying. She made it to Q2 and she is sort of just waiting for an interviewer to step up for her turn. Exactly like Oscar.
"Hey, finally get to talk to you." Oscar smiles making y/n look at him for a second before turning clearly confused that he's talking to her but the RB PR team member with her seems to pick up Oscar's intentions far before y/n does, nudges the young woman to speak.
"Oh-Oh-Ow, Caitlin." Y/n mumbles rubbing her ribs before smiling at Oscar. "Sorry, hi. I didn't realise you wanted to talk to me."
"Well, you're new. We had to meet at some point."
Actually Oscar has been in F1 for a year now and he's not sure he's even talked to everyone on the grid. He's certainly not gone out of his way to talk to people. This behaviour is not the norm for him.
"How are you feeling after your first quali?" Oscar asks making her laugh nervously.
"It could've been worse. I don't want to be cocky and get ahead of myself though." Y/n admits making Oscar smile.
"If it makes you feel any better, you can't possibly have a worse start than I did." Oscar assures her earning a small nod. "Q2 is already better than me."
"Now you're setting me up for failure...You were the best rookie in years." Y/n laughs before Oscar's comms girl catches his attention to move and he's forced to leave the conversation.
"We'll talk later."
Y/n smiles and nods before he steps away and she turns to Caitlin with wide eyes.
"What just happened?" Y/n whispers while Caitlin shrugs and pulls a face of excitement but equal confusion.
-
Oscar ends up not catching y/n before the end of the day, though he's a bit behind her and Yuki leaving the paddock and he sees her talking to Yuki waving her hands around as she speaks. Clearly another yapper has joined the paddock.
But he never catches them so he ends up relying on the driver's parade to catch her.
"How you feeling?" Oscar smiles walking up to her and catching his teammate's attention since aside from if he's by Lando's side or it's Logan, Oscar doesn't approach others. He gets approached by others.
"Yeah, first race." Lando states crashing the conversation since he's always happy to talk to someone new. "You excited?"
"A bit. Not sure what I can do from P14." Y/n laughs then sighing. "Maybe if you guys pit before me I'll get a good look at your rear wing."
Both the McLaren drivers laugh but Lando is suddenly dragged away by Carlos into a different conversation.
"Just have fun. No one really cares if you do well in your first race, all the team wants is to see that you can make it past the first corner."
"So if I don't then actually I'll not see the next race?" Y/n jokes then biting her the inside of her cheek. "So a clean and tidy race even outside of points is the goal."
"That's the goal." Oscar nods smiling at her. "If you do get the opportunity to give Max a puncture or force him wide and into the gravel. No one will be mad at you. I think he'd forgive you for it."
"You realise Helmut Marko would have my throat for that." Y/n laughs shaking her head. "Plus I have to keep it clean and tidy."
"True." Oscar smiles, the two just looking at each other for a couple beats before y/n hears her name and is called over by Laura.
As soon as she's gone, Lando returns smirking with Logan and Alex appearing.
"You and y/n are looking close." Lando comments then looking over Oscar's shoulder. "Should Yuki and I feel threatened the two of you are plotting to be future teammates?"
"They're the future of Red Bull." Alex comments jokingly then turning to look over at y/n. "I've not actually spoken to her. What's she like?"
"She's cool. Funny. I think she's making a lot of jokes to cover up some nerves about the race." Oscar shrugs making Alex and Lando exchange a look while Logan smiles.
Y/n ends up caught with Yuki, Pierre and Charles after her interview and Oscar can't help but feel like he had 2 steps forwards but 1 step back.
"What are we looking at?" Max asks appearing just as they're about to all get off as the parade comes to an end.
"Nothing." Oscar states briskly moving with Logan actually following him.
"You got some confidence with her bro." Logan comments making Oscar look at him for a moment. "It's a good thing."
Oscar chooses not to comment as he notices y/n yapping to Yuki yet again. He can just catch her words and what they're laughing about, it's apparently something that her engineer said about her qualifying. He didn't pick up what.
It's annoying not because he's jealous, but he wants to hear that stuff from her too. He wants to make her laugh more, she sounds nice when she was laughing during the parade.
"Oh bro, you're down bad already." Logan laughs patting the Aussie's back. "You should just ask her on a date."
Another no comment moment.
-
Since neither of them got on the podium, after the weigh bridge they're whisked off to media duties.
But Oscar is surprised to find a sweaty y/n rushing from the media pen towards him as he stands with Karun and Naomi. Though y/n is too lit up to even notice he's mid-interview with a mic in his hand. Not that her comms girl can rush to stop her interrupting fast enough to actually beat her to reaching Oscar.
"I didn't crash!" Y/n exclaims with his mic managing to just pick up her voice while he hugs her back with a laugh.
"No, you didn't." Oscar smiles before placing her down as Caitlin hisses at her.
"He's in an interview."
"Oh-Oh my gosh! Sorry." Y/n gasps nearly yanking herself away from Oscar's hold.
"No, no. Join us. I'm sure Oscar wouldn't mind." Karun smiles since they always want to hear from rookies and y/n is of special interest to the whole world.
Especially after she's just ran at the notorious introvert of the grid.
"How are you feeling after your first race?" Naomi asks while Oscar just watches y/n glow, she's flushed from the heat of the cockpit. Her eyes are bright with excitement and she's just beaming her happiness onto everyone.
"Amazing. Oh my gosh just...the best day of my life. Oh fuck, gonna-oh I'm not supposed to swear. I'm so sorry!" Y/n gasps slapping her hand over her mouth as Caitlin covers her face at the fact they're both going to be told off for it. "Sorry. Anyway, sorry. I was about to cry but I'm fine. Happy tears."
"It's great to see you so happy. I mean the world was definitely watching you, excited to see how you'd do. You did great. P11. That's just outside the points. In an RB on your first race. That's amazing." Naomi states while she grins nodding.
"Yeah, it was...honestly just the best day of my life." Y/n smiles then tilting her head lightly. "I loved every single second...but I do feel like someone used me as a bit of a punch bag."
Everyone is so focused on y/n that they don't actually notice Oscar just stood smiling listening to her as she talks. Caitlin does but she also has to intervene since y/n was never meant to be in the Sky interview.
"Oh, I think y/n's being asked to leave." Karun states making y/n look at him for a moment.
"Thanks for having me guys, I gotta go." Y/n smiles placing the mic down before hugging Oscar again then rushing off with Caitlin guiding her away.
Y/n wasn't actually meant to do any media outside the media pen. They want her in for the debrief, though even on her way=
"What do you think Oscar? An impressive show from the rookie?" Naomi asks making Oscar nod instantly.
"Definitely. I mean significantly better than my debut." Oscar confirms making them both laugh before he's given the gesture by his comms girl to move. "Thanks for having me guys."
After his own debrief Oscar manages to get to RB's unit and catch a team member to ask if they know if y/n has left or not. When they say no. He decides to...wait. Obviously to continue her celebration that was accidentally caught in his interview post-race.
"Hey, what you doing over here?" Lando questions having spotted his teammate in the emptying paddock.
"Just...y/n came over earlier while I was in an interview and I didn't get to properly congratulate her. Someone said she's still here and I'm not in a rush." Oscar shrugs earning a hum but whatever Lando is wanting to say, he keeps himself restrained and instead.
"Alright, I'll see you later mate." Lando nods then heading off.
Of course he also gets past by Logan but the American only glances at the unit he's outside of and just shouts a goodnight to his friend as he passes by.
When y/n appears, she looks pretty exhausted and no surprise. The first full race can be wearing and it's a night race anyway. He's also a little relieved to see Yuki isn't with her.
"Hey, what you doing out here?" Y/n smiles as her trainer drops back.
"I figured I didn't get to properly congratulate you earlier. So I wanted to make sure I made up for it." Oscar states earning a small smile from the young woman. "What?"
"Nothing...it's just very sweet of you." Y/n shrugs as they walk alongside each other. "So straight to bed for you?"
"Yeah, but I was...going to ask, do you have plans tomorrow?"
"Plans? Flying to Jeddah." Y/n laughs making him laugh and nod.
"Yeah, that makes sense. What about when you land in?"
"Um. No plans other than probably be...forced to workout." Y/n laughs lightly then hugging herself. "Are you offering to change that?"
"I was going to...yes."
"Ok. Well, maybe you should have my number."
-
Y/n smiles as she sits on the floor in the hotel gym, looking at Oscar enter since he'd asked to join her in working out in Jeddah.
"You wake up so early." Oscar comments jokingly while she smiles.
"Tell me about it. It's Dakota who tries to kill me off with this stuff." Y/n laughs looking back at her trainer who just gives her the finger earning a grin.
"You'd be calling me a bad trainer if I let your neck get weak." Dakota states which she only hums at. "I do need to grab a couple things for you. Are you alright to start with Oscar and I'll not be long?"
Y/n doesn't even get a word out before he trainer has practically fled the room thinking he's being subtle about trying to be a wingman.
"What does he think I'm going to do now we're alone?" Oscar jokes making her smile and continue to stretch.
"Tell me McLaren gossip probably. The man is a fiend for a juicy piece of gossip." Y/n smiles then facing him and laughing likely. "Oh you look so tired...I feel bad. Did you even eat breakfast?"
"No."
"Hold on." Y/n smiles standing up and moving to her phone then quickly typing something. "What do you usually eat? Dakota can grab you something. He'll love any excuse to leave us unsupervised for longer."
Dakota does practically scream through the text message back that he'll absolutely grab Oscar some breakfast along with actually giving her instructions of what to do for her workout.
By the time Dakota is back, both Oscar and y/n have been goofing off and laughing about trying to help each other with their workouts.
"What have you two been doing?" Dakota questions but y/n is already laughing to hard to answer wiping at tears that have fallen from her laughter.
"She tried to do the neck excises for me and she broke it." Oscar laughs as Dakota sigh pinching the bridge of his nose in a grimace.
-
Edits had already started to appear on social media of Oscar seemingly constantly trying to be around y/n and the interview moment in Bahrain where he was very visibly look at her in completely adoration. Not to mention that she literally threw herself on him.
Going into Jeddah, the whole world sees the growing impossibly closer. Though there's not so much confirmation of a relationship in any physical way that the public or media see. It doesn't stop them from assuming and fans at the track do try to ask both of them but they both pretend they just don't hear it.
Of course behind doors and out of prying eyes. They're not quite so hidden.
Right now after the end of Friday, y/n is in Oscar's hotel room while he watches her patter around. She's in a pair of pretty short shorts and a Hugo t-shirt since her and Yuki now get free clothes from Hugo.
"You know, if I ever get the opportunity to snatch yours or Lando's seat in McLaren, I'm so taking it. You guys get the nicest rooms." Y/n giggles as she puts her phone down with some music filling the room before she rushes and jumps onto the bed where he's been lying just watching her with a lazy smile. "Probably need to prove myself a little more."
"You've came into F1 just as qualified as I was." Oscar smiles as she crawls over to straddle him and he wastes no time sitting up to close the space between them, kissing her and slowly pulling her down over him, feeling her smile into the kiss leaves a warmth of satisfaction in Oscar's chest.
"Imagine the fans saw us now." Y/n whispers earning a light laugh.
"Mmm scandal." Oscar jokes while she moves to kiss his neck. "I think they might've figured it out."
"Yeah...But we don't feed the masses." Y/n smiles making hum grin at her.
"No we don't." Oscar laughs then sighing as he looks at her for a moment. "I'm ok keeping you to myself."
"I'm ok with that too."
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