#just a few months apart because they have always been chasing each other

[lover-of-mine]

I refuse to believe eddie is younger than buck though because as chim said "you're not his elder". buck was 26 in s1 and 29 in s4 and so to me, eddie has to be at least a year older? but you're right about them being around the same age and yet at such different stages. buck craves that family and I wish he could have it 💔 that baby duck could cling a little harder for once (to eddie, not a stranger..)

Well, considering season 6, Eddie can't be more than a few months older than Buck. I don't think they would actually make Buck older than him, but the thing is, we know Eddie has to be born in 1992 given the date on Shannon's grave and the way they didn't imply that Eddie is older than her, but Buck can be from 1991 or 1992 considering all the times they stated his age, 26 in s1, 28 right before the tsunami, 29 before he finds out about Daniel, 30 when he gets struck by lightning, and the very confusing way the time passes on the show. I guess you could push it a little, say Eddie is from late 91, since Shannon is from October 92, he could be anywhere from November 91 to September 93 and still be the "same age" as her in between birthdays but I refuse to believe they would put him as being born in 93, so our best guess is somewhere in 92, but our best guess with Buck is also somewhere in 92. So they can't be more than a few months apart from each other. But I also think everyone latched onto the way Eddie acts older (and the way Ryan is older) to put him as older than he is when his whole thing is that he was forced to grow up too fast, by the pressure to be the "man of the house" and the way that he had to learn be a father before he got to be a kid and the way that war changes someone in ways other experience won't. Buck has a boyish energy to him because he was left alone, because he was invisible. Maddie left for college then she left because of Doug, so the only person that could've pushed him to get his shit together wasn't around, so he lived life the way he did because he didn't have anyone else to care about besides himself and he never cared about himself very much to begin with. Because the way he settles into himself is not just Abby in the way he likes to say, it's Bobby, Hen, and Chim letting him care about them too. And the way he really settles once he gets Maddie back and meets Eddie and Chris shows the way he just didn't have a reason before them. But they do balance each other off in a beautiful way because Eddie needed to loosen up a little, and Buck not only shows him a different perspective, he also gives Eddie means to care about himself while making sure Chris is also always taken care of, and Eddie gives Buck a reason to not be a reckless idiot just because he wants to feel something.

#i was always a eddie is no more than a year older believer because i always got i got my highschool girlfriend pregnant vibes from him #and for that to be true with Chris age he would have to be closer in age with Buck t #like not gonna lie the old man jokes are my biggest pet peeve in the fandom #like will tap out with the overuse of them without a second thought #and i always liked the way it made Eddie's character that more interesting to me the idea of him also being in his late 20s #so I'm perfectly fine with them being closer in age to each other #but honestly #if Buck was older that would've been addressed i think #so im a eddie is from early 92 buck is from mid 92 truther #just a few months apart because they have always been chasing each other #and that includes being born around the same time because they couldn't let the other exist in a world without them #but that's just me #911 #buddie thoughts #anon 😌 #i really need a tag for asks #911 meta

[togenabi]

the promised knight

knight!roronoa zoro x princess!reader

♡— after a lifetime apart, zoro finds his way back to you

word count♡— 8.7k (screams into the void)

genre♡— royalty au, childhood friends to strangers to lovers, slow burn bc a lot of things happen, but there's fluff bc I need there to be

content notes♡— fem!reader wears dresses, mentions of death and grief, very plot heavy, kuina and mihawk are here, canon-typical violence, original side characters, no use of y/n, proofread(ish), inaccurate royalty things, inaccurate chemistry/poisons/acids, yes I got the name florentia from ill be the matriarch

also on♡— ao3

author's note♡— quick explanation!: a regent has no right to the throne, they're just someone stepping in temporarily while the next monarch is absent or unable to execute their powers. happy reading!!

Your happiest years were when everyone was together.

Those were the days you’d sneak out of your lessons to go play in the training grounds. You’d find your best friends arguing about something or other, fighting with wooden swords and chasing each other around.

Kuina and Zoro did their best to include you in whatever game they were playing. You found it all good fun, even if you were mostly being rescued or hidden away somewhere. The proud smiles on their faces when they saved you always made the wait for them worth it.

“Why do I have to play the bad guy?” A young Zoro whines, frowning deeply with shoulders slumped. His wooden sword hangs lazily in his hand, pointed to the ground. 

Opposite him, Kuina’s blade was up, stable and correct with proper posture. “Because we agreed I would save the princess today!”

You remember sending Zoro a small smile, trying to reassure him, “You can save me next time, Zoro. I promise.”

Zoro complained, but gave his all acting as a bandit out to rob you. You and Kuina would run into the meadow—hands held in each other’s—squealing and laughing. You’d always end up collapsed together; among the grass and the flowers. They would cheer and scream into the sky, happy that the great knights protected their princess once again.

But that same meadow is now covered with a blanket of melancholy. The colors aren’t as vibrant as they were back then. Flowers no longer bloom like they did. The children’s laughter has been replaced by a deafening silence.

Everything changed when Kuina died.

She was hit by a stray arrow, they said. They called it a tragic accident. 

More sadness only seemed to follow after she was gone. Zoro left without a word, abandoning his training, and you along with it. Your mother, Queen Florentia, passed due to an illness a few months after that. In a blink of an eye, you lost everything back then.

The large doors to your chambers slam shut, breaking you from your train of thought. The thud echoes into every corner before fading into noiselessness once more. 

A maid rushes in, completely out of breath and practically stumbling towards you. “Your Highness!” She gasps. Waving a hand, you gesture for her to calm down.

“Selma,” You pour her some water in a glass. It’s strange to see your personal maid so distressed. “What did you find?”

Practically inhaling the water, she places a hand over her heart before explaining, “You were right, Your Ladyship. The commander informed me that several knights had poison hidden in their quarters.”

Her eyes trail to the glass she’s holding, then to the pitcher. Selma’s face becomes appalled as it sinks in that you had poured her a drink. You cut her off before she can make a fuss about it.

“Never mind all that.” There are more pressing matters than decorum right now. “What else did Mihawk say? Have the knights been apprehended?”

“No, my Lady.” Selma retrieves a transparent vial from her pocket. “The commander said there's a chance the poisons were planted. Trustworthy men could have been framed… He discourages you from trusting any of them at all.”

The vial is small, barely larger than your thumb. To an untrained eye, it looks like nothing is there. You hold it up to the window, letting the sun’s setting rays shine through the glass.

There it is. A near-invisible, lavender sheen in liquid. The queen regent’s signature poison.

“Damn it all.” You sigh, falling into an armchair. 

It’s common knowledge that most of the people are loyal to Queen Regent Cassiopeia. Not to you, the rightful heir to the throne.

Ever since she took the position after your mother’s death, she’s been doing everything in her power to discredit you. Though she's not in the official line of succession, her goal is to become queen by any means necessary.

You’ve only been able to hold on for so long because there are still people loyal to your mother, like Commander Mihawk. However, it will take only one slip up for your standing to collapse. Cassiopeia knows this, and you suspect that she plans to completely ruin you at the upcoming knighting ceremony.

On a paneled wall in your room, encased in an ornate golden frame, hangs a portrait of Queen Florentia. The gold reminds you of the gilded dagger she gave you as a child. 

Subconsciously, your hand moves to rest over your pocket; where the dagger is hidden under your skirt. What would your mother have done in this situation?

You scan the painting as if the image would respond. It doesn’t, but your eyes settle on the necklace she’s wearing. It was her most prized possession, and she had promised to give it to you when you were older, but it’s sadly lost to time.

The vial grows heavy in your fist. Your mother would stop at nothing until Cassiopeia is defeated, so that’s what you’ll set out to do.

“Selma, get me some ink and parchment.” You order, feeling more determined. “I have a plan.”

Dracule Mihawk burned the note as soon as he finished reading it. Your idea was brilliant, if only a little complicated to execute. 

Cassiopeia will demand you choose a personal knight during the ceremony. Assuming all the knights are loyal to the queen regent, none of them would be a safe choice.

So, you asked Mihawk to hire a skilled fighter to pose as a knight. Someone whose loyalty cannot be bought. Immediately, he knew who to recruit. Though he warned you that you might not find the man… agreeable.

“I don’t care.” You replied stubbornly. “I can’t afford to be picky. Just make sure that he won’t kill me in my sleep.”

Mihawk muses that he might be killed by you in his sleep. Because in a shady, run-down tavern, he sits beside a familiar green-haired swordsman nursing a drink at the bar.

“Fancy seeing you here, commander.” Zoro spits out the title in disgust.

“It seems that some things never change.” Mihawk hums. “You’re still in the same place as you were when we last fought.”

“And your legend ends with you kissing up to that false queen.” Disappointment practically drips from his tone.

“And here you are,” There’s an amused glint in the knight commander’s eye. “...still not able to beat me, Roronoa Zoro.”

Zoro’s jaw clenches in frustration. He breathes out deeply, “What do you want, old man?”

“Join my knights.”

Scoffing, Zoro can’t believe his ears. Is this guy serious? “I’m no knight. Not anymore.”

“Are you sure about that?” Mihawk tests. “The princess needs someone not easily dissuaded.”

At the mention of you, Zoro freezes. He squints at the commander as it dawns on him, “You don’t serve that Cassiopeia bitch.”

“Obviously.”

“But why did you become commander only after Queen Florentia died?” Zoro asks. “Everyone thought you were bought off.”

“That’s besides the point.” Mihawk hisses. “I know you’ve been wanting to make it up to the princess. I’m giving you a chance to do that on a silver platter.”

Zoro stays quiet, eyes watching the alcohol ripple in his glass. He’s not drunk enough for this discussion. And he meant what he said, that he’s not a knight. That dream died with Kuina, and he chose to pursue less honorable ways to become stronger.

It’s funny how Mihawk, who was an outlaw, traded his jacket for a suit of armor. And now, he's trying to act righteous. But some things are just—

“It’s not too late to change things.” Mihawk attempts to persuade him, calmer this time. “Something tells me you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Shaking his head, Zoro can’t believe this man is talking like he knows him. “What do you know about regret?”

When the commander doesn’t respond, Zoro turns to see Mihawk’s face, a grave expression marks his features.

“I know far too much, I’m afraid.”

Zoro studies him for a moment longer, curious as to what he meant—but he doesn’t dare ask. Only an idiot would test Dracule Mihawk. 

This master swordsman, whom he’s looked up to for so many years, has changed drastically. Perhaps everyone has. It makes Zoro wonder how much you might’ve changed in the years he’s been gone.

You. He’s—there’s so much he wants to say. So much he wants to ask… but does he have the right to? 

Who is he kidding? He doesn’t. 

And yet, Zoro can’t help but wonder if he passes on this opportunity and regrets it, would he spend the rest of his life wishing he could make up for it?

After downing his drink, Zoro slams the glass on the bar counter.

“What do I need to do?”

Selma assists you with your hair and makeup on the day of the ceremony. She’s practically buzzing as she flutters around you. It’s nice that she’s still enthusiastic about things like these, even when dangers lurk in the shadows.

“You look stunning, Your Ladyship!” She gushes, adjusting the different layers of your dress so that it falls on you perfectly. “A vision, you are. Just like Queen Florentia.”

“Thank you.” You respond gratefully, despite not feeling as sure and confident as your mother was. Would that change, if you were to become queen?

A knock sounds on your door. Selma rushes to answer it, and lets Mihawk into your chambers. He steps in, but remains by the entryway.

“You look lovely, princess.” The commander bows to you in greeting. “I was instructed to escort you once you’re ready.”

Nodding, you approach him and hold onto his arm. “Let us be on our way.”

Keeping your face carefully neutral, you whisper to Mihawk under your breath, “Will you really not let me know the knight’s name? How am I supposed to know who to appoint?”

“You’ll know.” Mihawk pats your hand reassuringly. “Without a doubt, you’ll know. I just hope you’re not too hard on him.”

You side-eye him. “He’s not a convict or something, is he?”

Mihawk presses his mouth shut. This bastard, is he trying not to laugh? “You might actually prefer a convict over him.” 

That pulls a frown out of you that you cannot contain. What on earth is that supposed to mean? Is the man that bad? How are you supposed to mentally prepare with such vague warnings?

All thoughts of the mystery knight fade into the back of your mind, however, when you and Mihawk make your entrance at the throne room. 

The extravagant hall is decorated to the nines. Flags of different family crests hang from the ceiling. Flowers bloom at every window sill. You smile at it all, at your people—but it fails to reach your eyes. It’s difficult to truly smile when Cassiopeia stands dangerously close to your mother’s throne.

You curtsy when you reach the steps, one hand still on Mihawk’s arm as the fabric of your skirt dips onto the floor. You hear murmurs of approval from the ministers in the front row, pleased to see the good relationship between the princess and queen regent.

But they don’t see through your gloves, how your grip on your skirt is tense and far too tight. They don’t see how Cassiopeia’s smile is truly a smirk when you lower your head to her.

“Lovely to have you here, darling.” She says, and you fight the urge to laugh. ‘Lovely’ would be if she accepted her place and let go of her greed. 

Mihawk guides you to the smaller throne on the left. This has been your seat since you were born. If Cassiopeia had her way, it would be your seat until the end of your days.

She glides to the center of the dais, the train of her excessive dress flows like a river after her. She stands; graceful, powerful and smiling—but she will never be happy until she can sit on the throne and wear your mother’s crown.

Whatever it takes, you will find a way to stop her.

“Welcome to the long-awaited knighting ceremony.” Cassiopeia addresses the audience. “It is an honor to have the kingdom’s finest pledge to serve and protect us.”

The ceremony proceeds to speeches from several dignitaries. Mihawk delivers a short yet intense declamation about the knightage being the greatest honor; and hands the queen regent an elaborate, bejeweled sword.

“These warriors before us today are hereby called forward to receive Knighthood. The kingdom will forever be grateful for your service.” Cassiopeia proclaims.

Attentively observing the knights lined up, you keep an eye out for the one Mihawk recruited for you. One at a time, Cassiopeia announces their name before tapping their shoulders with the ornamental blade.

You grow restless as the line dwindles. Frustrated, you throw questioning looks at the commander’s direction. He skillfully avoids your gaze. The nerve.

When only about five men are left, you begin to study them all and weigh your options. Perhaps you should pick someone with a smaller build, so that you can have a better chance of escaping? You also spotted someone who appeared clumsy. If you were to outsmart him, your odds of surviving weren’t so bleak.

But then—dramatically, as if in slow motion—the great doors to the throne room opened with a loud, booming sound. Everyone turned as light poured into the hall.

A swordsman makes his entrance. His armor is unassuming, but the three blades at his side demand attention. He wears a helmet over his head, but even after so much time, you’d know those eyes anywhere.

Mihawk was right. You would have preferred a convict—or maybe some rogue, or a thief who would rob you blind. You would have preferred anyone over Roronoa Zoro.

You thought you’d never see him again, but he’s here, marching towards the end of the line. You gape at him, feeling too many emotions all at once. Why is he here? Why now?

Mihawk intercepts Cassiopeia before she can question Zoro’s identity. “Forgive me, queen regent. This young man ran late due to an errand I sent him out on.” 

How brilliant of him. Cassiopeia hates unexpected interruptions, but would never express her frustrations openly with so many people watching.

It’s amusing to see her grin and bear it. “That’s… quite alright, commander. I’m glad he made it before the end of the ceremony.”

When only Zoro remains to be appointed, you stand and call for the queen regent’s attention.

“Should he accept, this man shall be my personal knight.” You declare as Zoro’s gaze meets yours.

“What of your decision, knight?” Cassiopeia asks. Zoro nods, and the queen regent’s gaze sharpens. She understands that something is amiss, but passes the decorated blade to you without a word.

Back when you were children, you used to dream of this moment together. Kuina and Zoro would kneel before you on the grass beneath a shining sun, pledging their unwavering loyalty as you tap their shoulders with a stick.

You’re no longer children, but as Zoro kneels before you now, you still feel like a child all the same. Your clothes feel too big. The throne room is too vast; the ceiling too high. The sword is too heavy in your hands as you raise it.

“Roronoa Zoro. I hereby dub thee into the honorable order of knights as my chosen protector.” The blade lands on his shoulder—his right first, then the other. You pray to the stars that no one notices your hold quivering.

“Arise, Sir Zoro, and be recognized.”

You’re no longer children, but you’re still here. Playing a different sort of game.

Mihawk, the wise man that he is, makes himself scarce after the ceremony. You’re left to awkwardly journey back to your chambers with Zoro in tow. He doesn’t speak a word the entire time, but you can feel his eyes burning a hole through the back of your head. 

Selma is there when you get back, your usual afternoon refreshments prepared. She approaches you, but stops short when she sees Zoro.

“Leave us.” You tell her. She obeys, albeit reluctantly—looking back over her shoulder more than once as she exits.

After the door closes shut, the outside world feels a million miles away; making the air feel tense. You hastily take off your gloves, the fabric suddenly feels constricting against your skin. Every fiber of your being wants to scream at him.

Roronoa Zoro. Your best friend who had left all those years ago. You don’t even know where to start. 

Maybe throwing something at him will make you feel better. 

You throw one of your gloves. The fabric hits his chest before falling pathetically. 

“Seriously?” Zoro frowns at you, unimpressed. You throw the other one. It meets the same fate.

Grumbling under his breath, Zoro takes off his helmet. It vexes you how you subconsciously hold your breath until you see his face.

You huff skeptically, “Why are you here?”

“Mihawk said you needed help.” He answers with a shrug, causing his armor clink. 

After a breath, he speaks cautiously, “I didn’t know things had gotten this bad.”

“How could you have known?” You bite back, “You left, Zoro.”

In a sense, you understand why Mihawk chose him. You asked for someone who wouldn’t kill you in your sleep, and Zoro—at least, the one you knew—definitely wouldn’t.

Some (rational) part of your brain is telling you to keep quiet and accept his help. With Cassiopeia planning a mutiny, time is something you don’t have a lot of. 

But your heart still feels angry and hurt when you see his—stupidly handsome—face. The years just had to treat him well, didn’t they?

“I’m thankful for your help,” You admit disgruntledly. “But I’m not happy about it.”

Zoro calls your name. It makes your heart ache a bit, but you hold a hand up to silence him. 

“Please, just—I need time to process this, Zoro.” Turning away from the knight, your eyes find the window. The sunset paints the meadow in deep oranges and blues. It doesn’t make you feel any better.

“...We’ll talk tomorrow.” You promise, your tiredness evident from your tone.

Zoro lingers, hesitating. But he doesn’t push you. You hear his armor shift as he bows before he leaves.

That night, Zoro stands guard outside your door. It’s good that no one else is around, it allows him to think in peace. About you.

The last time Zoro saw you, you were a small thing, getting dirt on the edge of your skirt. When he saw you today, sullying even the path you walked on felt like a crime. 

He knew you would be mad. He had prepared himself to be yelled at. Maybe he thought you would cry. How much you went through didn’t really sink in until he saw how exhausted you were. 

All the things he wanted to say, every apology and excuse, fade into nothing. The first thing he wants to tell you is how thankful he is that you’re still alive. It doesn’t matter that you stay mad at him forever, he’ll protect you for just as long.

Footsteps sound through the dim hallway. Zoro rests a hand on his blades, ready to fight back anyone who poses a threat. A knight he’s not acquainted with approaches, his steps staggering just a bit. The man carries a bottle of alcohol.

“Hey! New guy!” The stranger bellows. “This ’ere is a little something we prepared for ya, since yous didn’t eat dinner with us.” Zoro makes a mental note that they’ve been watching him.

“Take it, take it.” The knight tries to shove the bottle into Zoro’s hands. At the last second, Zoro spots a knife the man hides behind his back.

Quick on his feet, Zoro jabs the man’s neck, causing him to stumble. The knight charges at him, but Zoro effortlessly dodges. Grabbing the knight’s shoulder, Zoro slams his head onto the stone wall.

The bottle clatters to the floor as his opponent collapses, looking up at him in fear. Picking up the glass, Zoro sniffs at its contents. It’s laced with some sort of sedative. 

Zoro pries the knight’s jaw open before pouring the drugged beverage into his mouth. The amber liquid spills. The man coughs, gurgling and struggling in vain until he slumps onto the ground.

Observing the bottle inquisitively, Zoro shakes his head before dropping it again. What kind of amateurish attempt was this? Is the queen regent testing his skills? 

If anything, all this managed to do was—Zoro starts, turning to your door in alarm—…divert his attention.

Not a second later, he kicks down your door. The elaborately carved wood falls from its hinges, dust clouds billow once it crashes on the previously spotless tiles of your room.

You’re fighting off three large strangers clad in black, a dagger in your hand. Zoro tries not to think about how your eyes softened in relief when they landed on him as he cuts down one of the intruders. Maybe you still care for him a little.

“Took you long enough!” Or not.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” He grunts back, slashing his sword at someone charging towards you. Zoro only realizes the deeper meaning to his words when you make a face. 

“Don’t make being late a habit, Zoro!” Stabbing an intruder’s side, you quip at him, “You and your dramatic entrances, I swear.”

Zoro bites back a grin. He missed you more than you’ll ever know. 

After taking down one of the intruders, you hide in your wardrobe as Zoro deals with the rest.

It would be smart to lock the door. Barricade it, so that no one can get to you on the off chance Zoro is defeated. But you don’t. You keep the door ajar to watch everything unfold. The way he fights is a captivating sight.

Look at him. Your knight in lackluster armor. Protecting you like how you always talked about as kids. He’s wielding two blades, one for each perpetrator still standing. You blink in surprise when you make out the third, sheathed blade. Kuina’s.

The more you examine him, the more you see how different he seems. He carries himself more confidently, unlike that boy who whined about roles, responsibilities and challenges. 

You also see how gruff he’s become. He’s grown stronger, for sure, but you get the sense that he’s closed himself off from the world. Perhaps the years weren’t as kind to him as you'd thought.

The last intruder lets out a pitiful cry as Zoro knocks him unconscious.

“I’ll tie them up and let Mihawk deal with them in the morning.” Zoro says, pausing to breathe for a moment before dragging the men out by their feet.

Emerging from your wardrobe, you become dismayed at the sight of your room in such a state. “Did you really have to kick down the door?” You groan.

Surprisingly, Zoro blanks, appearing sheepish. “...I didn’t know it would break like that. I just—you should get a damn better door.” He mumbles, heaving the doors up and resting them against the wall outside.

When he comes back from restraining the intruders, he stands before you awkwardly—like he doesn’t know what to do when he’s not fighting or cleaning up bodies.

No one says anything. You both just take each other in, not completely recognizing the person that looks back.

You don’t feel so angry at him anymore. When all’s said and done, everyone has different ways of dealing with grief. Your heart only grows conflicted, wishing you had been there for each other instead of being apart. Goodness knows you could have used someone by your side. You’re sure he did as well.

“I—” Zoro falters. “...I’m glad you’re okay.”

‘Okay’ isn’t how you would describe your current state, but you nod anyway. 

“You too, Zoro.”

In a secluded alcove in the royal gardens the following afternoon, you invite Mihawk for tea on the pretense of thanking him for your newly sworn knight. The story that spread was that you would have been done for were it not for Zoro. You don’t want to think about how true that might be.

“The queen regent is furious you were able to secure a knight loyal to you.” Mihawk informs you as he helps himself to some pastries. “We should avoid meeting for a while, lest she suspect anything of me.”

“Alright.” You agree. “Selma also informed me that we can gather statements from mistreated staff.” You show Mihawk a list of names. “If enough of them support us, and if we can prove Cassiopeia orchestrated what happened last night… We can take her down.”

“She will be busy attending a gala this evening. I’ll make sure no one is near her office while she’s gone.” Mihawk turns to Zoro, who is standing guard behind you, sending him a fearsome look. “Those men got a tad too close last night—”

“Mihawk.” You warn him to drop it. He doesn’t.

“Ensure that it doesn’t happen again, young man.” 

“It won’t.” Zoro replies icily. The commander only huffs in response. 

‘It won't happen.’, he said. But trouble finds you when Zoro steps on a tripwire in Cassiopeia's office. Arrows soar, launching from scattered, hidden contraptions. Zoro shoves you into a bookshelf, covering your frame with his.

“So much for her not finding out we were here.” You remark sarcastically, waiting for him to step back.

But then, as they cage your head, Zoro’s arms tense up. His expression contorts in discomfort.

“...Zoro?” Raising your hands, you cradle the sides of his face.

“Damn arrows,” He growls. “I think they’re poisoned.”

“What?!” You gasp, ducking under his arm to check his back. You find a wound where an arrow grazed his skin. “Of course you get injured when you don’t wear your armor.”

“Why don’t you try sneaking around in that thing, then?” Zoro argues, but you’re startled when the wound begins to bleed.

“We need to get you treated.” Panicking, you grab his arm and pull him along. He doesn’t budge. “Zoro, we should go.”

“No.” He refuses, hissing in pain all the while. “That bitch won’t let us find a way in here again. Let’s just be quick.”

“...Fine.” You cave, still worried, hating that he’s right. “At least stay still, search the desk. I’ll handle everything else.”

Zoro relents, opening every drawer and scanning every document in them. You turn your attention to the shelves, trying to find hidden compartments or anything that looks remotely suspicious.

It's not long before a loud crash makes you wince. Zoro found something.

A panel beneath the desk detaches, revealing an ornate box. Studying it, you hum, “It looks like we’ll need a key.” Zoro unsheathes one of his blades, cutting through the lock until it cracks open. 

You shake your head. “Or we could do that, sure.”

However, instead of the nefarious plans or blueprints you were hoping for, you find old papers. All of them yellowing with age. 

“It’s your handwriting.” Zoro points out, picking up the first document.

“What?” You lean in, reading the file over his shoulder. It’s a letter written to acknowledge a transfer of money. But the amount is astronomical, and you don’t remember signing anything of the sort.

“Look at the date.” Pointing to the corner, it reads more than ten years ago. And then it clicks, “My mother wrote this.”

“There’s more than one.” Zoro sifts through the papers, counting over ten.

“All of them are addressed to… Shimotsuki Koushirou?” He reads the name slowly. You look at each other, confused. Why would Queen Florentia be sending payments to Kuina’s father?

A tall longcase clock chimes to signal the hour. If you clean up now and review the evidence later, you can make it look like you were never here. You instruct Zoro to pack up the box.

“We should head out soon.” You say, moving to pick up the arrows scattered on the floor. 

“Be careful.” Zoro reminds you.

“I am.” You show him that you’re holding the arrows by their tail ends. “You can go ahead, if you want. Get that wound treated.”

“Do you really think I would leave you?” You can’t help the incredulous look you send his way. 

“...Forget I said anything.”

Back in your chambers, you twirl an arrow you decided to keep as evidence while examining the documents sprawled out on your carpet. 

Zoro grabs it from your hand. “I thought I told you to be careful with that.”

You think aloud as he sets the arrow to the side, “I just can’t figure out why my mother gave Koushirou so much money.”

“Maybe she felt bad about the accident.” Your swordsman suggests. “We all did.”

“But why did she have to keep it quiet…” Mumbling in thought, you read the last receipt Queen Florentia signed. It had been penned the week of her death.

The sky grows darker, and it becomes more difficult to see. Zoro strikes a match to light a few candles, bathing the room in a subtle, warm light.

Beneath the dim, flickering flames, the sharp arrow on your tea table glints ominously. 

It took you a long while to get over spacing out whenever you saw an arrow. It was one of the things that affected you after Kuina’s passing.

Sometimes, you think of how much better everything would be if she was still here. If it weren’t for that—

…accident?

“Zoro?” Your voice is unsteady, “...What do you remember about Kuina’s death?”

“It was some new guy at the training grounds.” He answers, frowning as he recalls what happened. “He misfired, and his knighthood got revoked after that.”

“But,” Memories come flooding back as you try to piece things together. “If the archers were practicing that day, what was Kuina doing in the grounds?”

“Kuina wasn’t in the grounds.” Zoro corrects you. “She was in that meadow we always went to.” 

He points to the view outside, raising a finger to trace the horizon. “The arrow flew through the fence, but it was really dangerous, even—” 

Zoro turns back to you with wide eyes. “Even the queen was almost hit! Holy shit, she was there to observe that day.” 

You blink at him in disbelief, “My mother was the real target.”

“And she didn’t want the culprit to know she realized, which is why she kept quiet about the money.” 

You collapse into a chair as you run your hands over your head. “Did anyone ever check the arrow for poison?”

“No.” Zoro’s face crumples. “She was hit straight in the heart... She wouldn’t have made it even if it wasn’t poisoned.”

“Oh, Kuina…” You choke back a sob, covering your face with both hands. “I’m so sorry it took us this long.”

“Wait.” Zoro calls out your name, taking your hand and kneeling in front of you. The strength of his grip hurts, but you don’t mind it. You need to feel that he’s with you right now; especially when his next question makes your heart fall through the floor.

“How did your mother die?” 

“She—she got sick. A lot of our people got sick that year.” You answer shakily, not liking where this is going. “Do you think…”

“Queen Florentia could have been poisoned.” Zoro whispers. “And I bet that fake bitch was responsible for it. For Kuina’s death too.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” You counter, “Cassiopeia deals with poisons, sure, but she wasn’t even in the kingdom yet then.” 

“...Someone must have betrayed your mother so Cassiopeia could be queen regent.” He suggests, rubbing circles into your palm. “Because isn’t it convenient, how she was there to bring the people together after Her Majesty died?”

It’s confusing how the world seems to have slowed down, and yet your mind is spinning so quickly, you can’t process anything. You squeeze Zoro’s hand to anchor you, but you shatter all the same. 

“I hate everything.” You cry, tears streaming down your face. “I hate how I didn’t know—but we were kids! How were we supposed to know? And, I hate feeling so powerless. What—how, are we going to fix this?”

“We’ll find a way, I promise.” Zoro moves to embrace your form, but you glare at him.

“You. I hate you too.” You push him away weakly, but he doesn’t let you go. “I—I hate that you left, Zoro… You have no idea how lost I was.”

His eyes glisten with tears. “I was lost without you too.”

Zoro feels you melt into his arms. Your strength just vanishes, and you slump forward until your forehead touches his.

“...Don’t leave me then.” You whisper. You beg.

He holds your cheek, wiping your tears with his thumb. “Never.”

The last thing you remember before falling asleep is Zoro pressing the softest kiss to your temple as he tucks you in bed.

Selma barges in the next morning, slamming the (newly repaired) doors open. As you rub the sleep from your eyes, you’re starting to feel sad for the abuse your doors have been going through lately.

“Princess! Your Ladyship! Your Highness—” She stops abruptly, covering her mouth, looking scandalized. What is she so flabbergasted by—

Only then do you see Zoro sleeping on the floor beside you. He’s leaning on the bed, using his forearms as a pillow. One of his hands is intertwined tightly with yours.

“Your Highness!” Selma gasps playfully, gesturing to your mother’s portrait. “Right in front of Her Majesty!”

“Selma,” You sit up, letting go of Zoro’s hand. “Did you have anything important to report?”

“Ah!” She exclaims, face becoming worried once more, “The commander has been imprisoned!”

You curse, shaking Zoro’s shoulder to wake him. “Couldn’t you have told me that first?”

“Forgive me, princess. It’s not everyday I see you holding hands with a man. May I ask who confessed first, Your Highness?”

“Oh my god, Selma.” You groan. “Just go prepare my clothes.”

“Shall I dress you, or will Sir Zoro—”

“Selma!”

If Zoro heard any of Selma’s ramblings, he’s excellent at hiding it. You both get ready in record time. After which, he leads the way to the dungeons; careful to make sure you don’t run into anyone. 

“We can sneak him out through that secret passage we used to play in.” You whisper, your knight nods. 

“When we get to him, break the lock with your dagger. I’ll stand guard in case someone comes over.”

But someone already beat you to Mihawk’s cell. Zoro pulls you into a shadowed corner to hide.

The queen regent paces in front of the bars, her extravagant dress and cape out of place in this gloomy dungeon. 

Mihawk is on the ground, his wrists chained with heavy shackles. Yoru is noticeably missing from his back. Seeing him like this is heartbreaking.

“I should have known you’d help that wench.” Cassiopeia sneers. “You’ll regret not siding with me soon enough, Dracule.”

“Now that you’ve found me out, I can finally ask you to stop calling me that.” Mihawk yawns. “My name always sounded revolting in your voice.” Crazy bastard, will it kill him to try to stay alive?

“But Florentia called you that, didn’t she?” 

Zoro squints at how something about Mihawk changes at the mention of your mother. It’s almost imperceptible, but the air shifts dangerously. The queen regent should watch her mouth.

“Her name sounds revolting in your voice too.”

Cassiopeia scoffs. “You’re just like her. Thinking you’re better than everyone else.”

“Aren’t you talking about yourself?” Mihawk leans back, crossing his legs. “That’s not a good habit, Cassie.”

The queen regent kicks the cell. Mihawk doesn't flinch as she snarls, “I’ll deal with the princess and that knight... I’ll make you watch as the light fades from their eyes.” Gathering her skirt, her heels clack loudly as she stomps away.

As soon as she’s out of earshot, you and Zoro run to the commander.

“Mihawk!” You call out as you stab the lock with your dagger. It crumbles to the ground after a few strikes. “What happened? What did she charge you with?”

“Treason, apparently.” He shrugs, the chains holding him rattling together.

Mihawk goes on as you break his shackles, “This kingdom should be grateful we’re trying at all. We could easily leave them to their own devices—” You frown at him. 

“...But of course, we won’t do that.”

Sneaking into the library, you regroup with Selma; who passes on vital information.

“The queen regent has the palace on lockdown. Everyone has orders to take you in.” She tells you. “But I’ve rallied the staff. We're going to plead your case to the ministers, Your Highness.”

“Thank you. Do you have my mother's letters?” She nods. “Good. Use them well. I'll make sure your efforts will not go to waste.” You say, giving her hands a firm squeeze. 

“Where’s that fake queen now?” Zoro looks eager for a fight.

“One of the butlers said that the queen regent disappears sometimes, and no one knows where she goes.” Selma explains, passing you a note from her source. “There are rumors that she smells like grass when she returns.”

Mihawk lets out a disbelieving laugh, “She must be at the secret garden.”

“The what?” You ask. That sounds exactly like something you would have loved as a child, but why haven’t you heard of it before?

“It’s a place reserved for queens. Only crowned monarchs should be allowed in there, or even know where it is.” He says. “That woman truly doesn’t know her place.”

“Why do you know about it?” Zoro asks.

After a pause, the older swordsman deflects, “I’ve been called a queen once.”

“Mihawk,” You urge him to be serious. “Can you take us there?”

Before he responds, Mihawk looks at you with something you can’t fully discern, as if he’s recalling an old memory.

“Of course. It’s your birthright, after all.”

The entrance to the secret garden is hidden in a passageway beneath the greenhouse. You imagine your mother walking along this path, to a sanctuary she could truly call her own.

But the vision darkens when you think of how Cassiopeia has been using the space all this time. You hope you're still able to recognize traces of your mother when you get there.

An iron gate stands at the end of the path. Vines tangle through the metal spirals and flowers. Mihawk holds a finger to his lips, carefully opening the gates without a sound except for the rustling of leaves. You all crouch behind a large plant that fans out, over your heads.

And then, you see it. You see what your mother left for you.

The centerpiece of the garden is an intricate pedestal, Yoru is propped up against it. On top of it, however, is a glass case displaying your mother’s most treasured golden necklace.

You almost want to run to it, but Zoro grabs your arm, warning you not to take another step. He nods towards where Cassiopeia stands in front of oddly shaped vials and strange devices containing diff chemicals. She douses a sword with an eerie purple liquid as she speaks.

“Three against one... That hardly seems fair.” She kisses her teeth. Looking over her shoulder, she glares. “Why don’t we fight on even ground?”

Out of nowhere, a large cage falls towards the three of you. Mihawk pushes you and Zoro out of the way, but isn’t able to avoid the cage himself.

“And I just escaped. What a shame.” Mihawk fusses, but you can see that he’s relieved you’re alright.

“Maybe you’re meant to be in a cell, Dracule.” Cassiopeia remarks. “I’ll have your kids join you shortly.”

There’s only one of her, this should be easy, right?

She throws a bottle at you. Luckily, you’re able to dodge it. The bottle shatters, its contents spilling over the bystanding greenery. The liquid turns out to be acid, burning through the foliage and leaving a smoky trail. 

Well, fuck.

Zoro also seems to realize how serious this fight is. For the first time since you’ve reunited, he unsheathes Kuina’s sword, placing the hilt in his mouth.

You brandish your dagger as you yell, “Really? You bite it? What would Kuina say?” He sends you a look. You try not to laugh.

And in the next second, you charge at Cassiopeia together.

It’s difficult to get close enough to land a hit. The queen regent leads you in a dance of acids and poisons. You dodge one bottle only to be met with the toxic end of her blade. It seems that your mother’s dagger won’t be enough in this fight.

“I didn't get this far to be stopped by the likes of you!” Shrieking, she lunges at you.

“You will never be queen!” You roar back.

Behind her, your eyes spot Yoru leaning on the pedestal. The blade is large and intimidating, and you’re not entirely sure if you can wield it correctly… But you might not have a choice right now.

As you were distracted, Cassiopeia’s sword almost cuts through your side. Panicking, you stumble backwards. Zoro slashes at your enemy’s wrist. Her hold on the poisoned weapon falters. It plummets with a clang.

While she’s occupied with Zoro, you rush towards Yoru. From behind the bars, Mihawk watches, holding his breath as you wrap both hands around Yoru’s hilt—but the damn thing is too heavy. 

“Dear princess, you should have learned from your mother!” Cassiopeia smashes a bottle on Zoro’s head. “Stop sticking your nose where it doesn't belong!”

The glass explodes into countless glittering shards. A red gas escapes into the air, and your knight inhales far too much of it.

He falls, and for that moment, the entire rest of the world vanishes until all you see is him. Your ears start to ring. His grip loosens on his swords. 

No. Please. Not him. Not anyone else. No more.

Mihawk calls your name. You turn to him, on the verge of breaking down. But then, he nods once, slowly. The action reminds you to breathe—filling you with an overwhelming sense of strength. You can do this.

Screaming, you attempt to brandish Yoru again. 

You swing the legendary greatsword in a perfect arc. Once it collides with the ground, the air ripples. Power surges through an invisible force headed straight for the queen regent. She tries to run, but the hit lands.

Her eyes don’t stray from yours as she collapses. In her final moments, she falls from grace, howling in agony and rage. 

As a last ditch attempt, she throws one last vial of acid at Zoro. You’re about to curse the world all over again as you run to stop it.

Mihawk throws a tiny sword like a dart, miraculously breaking the container before it lands on your knight. Your knees give out, and you pull Zoro into your arms as you gasp for air.

It’s done.

Zoro wakes up to the feeling of you checking his temperature. Your hand is warm against his forehead, making him want to reach up and hold it. He should probably wake up and check on you now.

“Oh.” He hears Mihawk speak, “I didn’t realize your relationship took a certain… turn.”

On second thought, another minute of sleep won’t hurt.

“Not you too, Mihawk.” You groan. “I get enough of that from Selma.”

“Ah, yes. I heard.” The swordsman deadpans, “Hand holding. How scandalous.”

“Alright, if you’re not going to be of any help whatsoever, please just go.”

“If you wanted time alone with him, you could have just said so.”

“Goodbye, Mihawk.”

Zoro hears you escort Mihawk out, and he takes the moment alone to open his eyes. He’s in his quarters, which is a few doors down from yours so that he can easily get to you. 

Not that he stays here often, Zoro prefers standing guard outside your chambers. It’s strange how he lasted years without seeing you, because now that you’re back in each other’s lives, he becomes restless whenever you’re not around. 

Like right now. What’s taking you so long?

The door opens. Zoro perks up, but deflates when he sees that it’s Selma bringing in a pitcher of water. 

“You could’ve at least hidden your disappointment better, Sir Zoro.” She huffs at him, taking full offense. “I’ll go get your princess.”

“Oh!” She yelps excitedly, “My bad, it’s queen anointed now, isn’t it?”

Zoro smiles, his voice raspy with sleep, “That has a nice ring to it.”

“Indeed, it does.” Selma nods, bidding him farewell. 

He doesn’t have to wait long to hear your rushing footsteps. The door opens again to reveal you, this time. Your eyes shine in that really pretty way they do when you’re happy. He’s glad that’s among the things that didn’t change.

Zoro opens his arms, inviting you, “Come here.”

Not needing to be told twice, you fall into his arms, burying your face in his chest.

“You’re okay.” You murmur.

“I wasn’t about to miss your coronation, Your Majesty.” Zoro pokes your nose. He did that a lot when you were kids, you forgot how much you liked it.

“Thank you for being okay.” Leaning down, you kiss his cheek softly.

Zoro brushes his fingers through your hair. He holds your face in his hands, tracing your features as if that will help him memorize the happiness he feels in his heart. The sort of happiness he thought was lost to him forever.

“Hey,” Zoro speaks your name with care. “I love you a lot, you know.”

He always envisioned confessing to you in some dramatic, elaborate way that you’d deserve. There could have been a beautiful sunset. He would’ve brought flowers.

But he was wrong. All he needs are the words themselves, and you—smiling the way you’re smiling at him now. 

You laugh, “I might love you more, I think.”

Zoro shakes his head, sitting up so that he can bring his face to yours properly. “Doubt it.”

The kiss tastes like magic, like you were always meant to find each other's lips. His heart starts doing something funny, and he has to pull you closer—hold you tighter. You respond eagerly, kissing him back so intoxicatingly that he’ll remember the softness of your lips for as long as he lives.

Later that week, your coronation is a grand and extravagant affair.

When Cassiopeia's misdeeds came to light, the people banded together to celebrate her downfall. Those loyal to her either surrendered or tried to escape. Although none of them were able to get away, since Zoro and Mihawk were ruthless towards those involved in the attempted mutiny.

The crown on your head will take some to get used to. It still feels like you're borrowing something of your mother's; but instead of shying away from it like you had before, you step into it openly. You're ready to become a successor worthy to carry on her legacy of kindness and strength.

Uncharted these waters may be, at least you have Zoro now, who would dive into any perilous sea right after you.

Escaping the celebratory banquet and the revelries, you visit Queen Florentia and Kuina's graves with Zoro. It's only right that you pay respects together.

You leave flowers on your mother's headstone, thanking her for everything she did. You're startled when Zoro takes one of his swords, holding it in front of him as he kneels in front of the previous queen.

“Your Majesty, Queen Florentia,” He speaks, his tone steady and sure. “I, Roronoa Zoro, vow to never leave your daughter’s side. I will protect her until I draw my last breath. I swear to cherish her, and to love her even in my next life.”

What is he doing, making you cry like this? It turns out that emotional boy you knew is still somewhere in there. Your heart feels full, knowing your mother would have appreciated the gesture.

As you're about to move on to Kuina's grave, Zoro motions for you to go ahead without him. You look at him strangely, but do as he says to give him some space. 

Mihawk emerges from the treeline when you've gone far enough.

“You look like you’re about to leave without saying goodbye.” Zoro remarks.

“Of course you’d know how that works, hm?” Mihawk challenges, raising a sharp brow. “Try even thinking about leaving and I’ll return to make sure it’s your last thought."

“Didn't you just hear the oath I made to the love of your life?” Zoro turns to Florentia's tombstone again. “Your Majesty, back me up here.”

“She would have approved of you.” Mihawk’s frown is unimpressed, but his gaze is unmistakably caring. 

“...Take care of her, Zoro.”

“Of course. I promise.”

As Mihawk walks away, Zoro asks him one last question, “How are your regrets now, old man?”

The former commander’s shoulders shake in a mixture of amusement and relief. “I suspect they'll heal, with time.”

When Zoro catches up to you at Kuina's grave, you're grinning at him. He can picture that same grin on Kuina's face if she were here. 

“We were just talking about you.” You jest, “All bad things, too.”

“You had nothing to talk about, then.” Zoro sits on the grass beside you. “I’m perfect for you.”

Appalled, you scoff and turn to Kuina's headstone. “Can you believe this guy?”

That day, you talked for hours, even after the sun had set. And on the trek back to the palace, a soft breeze caressed your skin. It felt like Kuina encouraging you, sending you off onto the next chapter of your lives.

Zoro becomes Captain of the Royal Guard once Mihawk leaves. He's teaching you about weapons and self defense when he picks up your dagger to inspect it, turning it this way and that curiously.

“Is there something wrong with it?” You ask, observing it too.

“This pattern and material.” Zoro says, tracing a certain swirl on the weapon. “I feel like I've seen it before.”

“Ah,” He says in realization, tracing a finger down your neck and making you shiver. “It’s the pattern on your necklace.”

“My mother must have had them made together.” You say, unclasping the chain before handing it to him.

There's a gap in the center of the pendant. Thin and barely noticeable, but it looks like it can be opened by something sharp.

“Do you mind if I,” Zoro gestures at the dagger.

“Just don't break it.” You say. “Treat it like my heart.”

Zoro makes a face that pulls a laugh out of you. “I would never do this to your heart.” Aw. You might have melted a little.

The tip of the blade slots perfectly into the pendant. After twisting it slowly like a key, the metal clicks to reveal: a locket.

Handing it over to you carefully, Zoro lets you open it the rest of the way. Inside, there are images drawn on two panels. You, as a child on one side… and Mihawk on the other. Now you understand why your mother treasured this so much. Tearing up, you sigh.

“You’re not surprised.” Zoro notes.

“...I think a part of me always knew.” You respond. “And, I definitely felt something when I held Yoru. No wonder why.”

Treading carefully, Zoro wraps his arms around your waist as he asks, “You’re not upset that he left?”

“But he didn’t. He’ll always be there for me, and so will you.” You smile up at him. “I’m happy I found my family again.”

Many years ago…

The grass on the meadow bristles gently in the wind. Dusk bathes the land in a dreamy, gold and purple hue. 

After a day filled with imaginary adventures, two children wave their dearest friend goodbye. The princess smiles at them fondly before returning to the castle.

Kuina grins, face eager as she points her training sword to the sky. “I’ll be her knight someday. I’ll be commander and everything.”

Zoro jolts, immediately expressing in protest, “No, I’ll be the one to protect her! I’ll be commander!”

“Oh yeah?” The girl’s smile turns knowing. She pokes Zoro’s waist with her sword. “How will you do that? Aren’t you going to marry her?”

Stunned, Zoro can only stare at her in response. A blush creeps up his neck, reddening the tips of his ears. Kuina seizes the opportunity to make a run for it.

“Princess, wait up! Zoro wants to tell you something!”

“Kuina! Get back here!”

read the companion piece / my notes / the timeline of this story (in mihawk's perspective) here : "the taste of ale"

© togenabi 2023 | see here to be added to my taglist ♡

tags: @songsofadelaide-archive @ay0nha @amitydoodlez @sweetexistentialism @murnsondock @starszns @msmisasoup @writingmysanity @hotchocolattee @dimplewonie @hearts4zoro @kenkenmaaa @appalost @commanderfreethatdust @onebatch--twobatch @rebeccawinters @gunslxtz @akakaze @lownna

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[penny00dreadful]

Before He Cheats

AO3

“Munson Home for the Recently Deceased, you stab ‘em we slab ‘em. How may I direct your call?”

There was silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds before a light chuckle crackled through the speaker.

“Is that really how you answer the phone?”

Eddie smiled to himself. “Got you to laugh didn’t it?”

“Suppose.”

“Plus, no one calls the landline anymore unless they’re trying to sell something. You trying to sell me something?”

“No. No, I uh… I’m looking for an Eddie Munson?”

“Only an Eddie Munson? Only one? What a terrible fate. Well you’re in luck, my good sir. This is he. What can I do you for?”

The voice on the end of the line gave a light laugh once again but went silent almost immediately after. 

Eddie stared at the wall in his apartment, waiting for something to happen. In the quiet he could hear the guy letting out little nervous breaths before one big inhale.

“I um. I’m sorry to have to tell you like this, I’d prefer to do it face to face but I don’t know where you live and you probably wouldn’t even want me at your house afterwards and I did find you on social media but it’s not something I wanted to do in DM’s, you deserve better than that-”

“Okay, hold on, slow down.” Eddie tried to ignore the panic starting to kick around in his heart. “Is someone dead? Is someone injured?”

“No! No, Jesus, I’m sorry. I told Robin that I’d be terrible at this but I couldn’t just let it go on without saying anything-”

“You haven’t really said anything. You’re just rambling.”

“Right. Sorry. Again, blame Robin. I’m around her too much. But… okay. Do you know Rick Lipton?”

Eddie felt the panic leave him, replaced only by irritation as he sighed through his nose. “What did he do now?”

“He… um. I’m sorry to ask this but are you his partner? Like, romantic partner?”

Eddie scowled. “And if I am?”

There was movement against the line, almost as if the other guy was nodding. 

“Shit.” He muttered before picking back up in volume again. “Listen, I didn’t know. He told me he was single and I only found out because Robin lives in the same building as you and she saw him with you and asked the neighbours and they said you’d been a thing for like two years and you have to believe me if I’d known I wouldn’t have touched him, I don’t fuck around with cheaters-”

“How long?”

Eddie had expected to feel betrayal or sadness, devastation or heartbreak and they were there. 

They were just lost under a tidal wave of anger and indignation. He was even surprised at himself that he didn’t feel more caught off guard. 

Rick had never cheated before (that Eddie was aware of) but he had always had a wandering eye and a few off-colour jokes about 'going to find someone more his speed’. 

They’d never really felt all that funny.

Maybe it was because their relationship had felt dead for the last few months. 

They barely talked, they just existed around each other. The sex had all but dried up as well and whenever they did have it, it was completely impersonal. Get in, get out, move back to separate parts of the apartment if either of them even bothered to stay over. 

More often than not one of them would make a quick exit back to their home.

Eddie had been thinking a breakup was on the horizon for a while. 

But that was no excuse to cheat. 

At least have the fucking decency to end the relationship first before going out and chasing tail. 

“Um, like four or five weeks." The guy on the phone muttered, clearly ashamed. "I’m so sorry Eddie, I swear to god if I knew I would never… I have- I have proof if you need it.”

“If it’s a sex tape I don’t think I want to see it.” Eddie was trying really hard to maintain his calm and not snap through the phone. 

If what the guy was saying was true, then he was an innocent party in this.

Didn’t make it hurt any fucking less though.

Didn’t make him any less pissed.

“If- no it’s not a sex tape.” The voice sounded scandalised. “Fucking hell, do people actually do that?”

“Yes.”

There was a pause, as though the guy was waiting for Eddie to continue but Eddie just let it hang in the air. He wasn’t ashamed. 

But he was definitely going to have to purge those files now.

“Okay well… It's just a photo. I posted it to my insta a week ago but he was really weird about it being up, which in hindsight makes a lot of sense, so I took it down.” He said, quiet and sad. “I can send it to you if you want.”

Eddie pursed his lips. 

“Please hold.”

He unceremoniously dropped the phone with a clatter, leaving it dangling from the cord, bouncing against the wall and probably blowing the guy’s ear out. 

Maybe in the morning Eddie would feel a little bad about that, but for now it just felt very satisfying. 

He rifled around in his bedsheets for his phone before making his way back to the landline. 

“Still there?”

“Yes. Ow, by the way.”

Eddie just shrugged, well aware the guy couldn’t see him but whatever. He wasn’t in the mood. 

“Send it on.”

Only a moment later his phone pinged with a notification and Eddie opened the photo.

Well. 

Shit. 

There was Rick, in amongst a crowd at some nightclub, plastered to the side of some pretty boy who looked like he had a regular workout routine. 

Ugh.

Eddie couldn’t handle gym bunnies, the amount they could bench or whatever was all they ever talked about. But this must be the guy on the other end of the phone. 

@King.Steve.Of.House.Hair

Rick had King Steve’s earlobe in between his teeth and from the angle of the selfie Eddie could see his hands were wandering.

It looked like some kind of Halloween night, if the teeny tiny little sailor outfit was anything to go by.

God damn.

But even so, Eddie still wanted to be sure that what he was seeing was… well. What he was seeing. 

“Steve, is it?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry, I didn’t realise I hadn’t given you my name yet.” Steve let out a nervous laugh, like he was expecting Eddie to jump through the phone and strangle him.

Eddie was fit to strangle someone but Steve wasn’t in his crosshairs.

“Don’t worry about it. Tell me, what does Rick have tattooed on his ass?”

“Uh…” Steve paused. “He doesn’t have a tattoo on his ass? Not that I’ve seen anyway. But I can tell you he does have his taint pierced. For some fucking reason.”

Eddie gave a quiet laugh at that, despite the monumentally fucked up situation and the final cracking piece of his heart breaking away. Rick had that piercing by the time Eddie had met him. He insisted he’d gotten it because it was sexy. Eddie was pretty sure he’d just lost a bet.

Eddie was no stranger to intimate piercings himself. He had his frenum done a while back. 

That one he’d definitely done because it felt sexy.

He looked back down at his phone, idly flipping through Steve’s profile and all of his other photos. 

He probably shouldn’t be thinking about how hot Steve was, how it was juxtaposed with a soft cuteness that almost felt like it didn’t belong to someone with such broad shoulders and defined arms. 

He hated himself for thinking about Steve’s attractiveness. 

It felt wrong.

Even though he was pretty much single now.

Even if Rick didn’t know it yet. 

But fuck him. 

He’d find out.

One way or the other.

And Eddie was nothing if not a drama queen.

But he wouldn’t do anything tonight.

No tonight he would just… hurt.

And smoke.

A lot.

“Eddie?” Steve’s voice came through to him. “You okay?”

Eddie swallowed, finding it a little more difficult than he expected it to be and realised he’d just been staring down at his phone in silence. 

The screen had gone black.

“Yeah.” He answered, his voice thick. “I’m fine.”

Steve hummed. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Eddie laughed. It was wet and sniffly and vulnerable and horrible. “What are you gonna do from over the phone far away… wherever you are?”

“I dunno. I could just… talk to you I guess? Help you plot Rick's murder?”

Eddie laughed again, a little brighter this time. "Yeah, that could be good. But if I'm plotting murder I want to be a little more comfortable." He unlocked his phone and hit the follow button on Steve’s account. “This conversation requires lounging, not standing by the landline.”

“Oh-”

“How do you feel about a video call?”

A notification popped up on his phone, letting him know Steve had followed him back.

“A video call is fine.”

“Great.” Eddie paused. He wasn’t even sure how to end this call with the guy his boyfriend of two years had been cheating on him with and who he’d just asked if he wanted to video call so Eddie could smoke his feelings away. 

He just didn’t want to feel alone right now. 

He could have called Chrissy or one of the boys to come hang out with him but that would require explaining everything over again and he really didn’t want to do that right now. 

Before he could think much more on it Eddie said a quick “Okay bye,” and hung up.

Steve knew the story and Steve had been wronged too and maybe they could just be mad and sad together. 

He unlocked his phone again as he walked back into his bedroom and hit the video call button, not even bothering to turn his light on, leaving himself and his room shrouded in darkness. He propped his phone up on his desk, angled towards the window where he sat on the sil and started to roll, using the streetlights streaming in the window to see.

Steve picked up only a moment later and Eddie got his first good look at the guy live in action and not through a photo online.

He was sitting at what looked like a kitchen table fully lit by the overhead lights, a pair of wire framed glasses perched on his nose and his hair messy and dishevelled, like he’d been stressfully running his hands through it, which he probably had been. 

Eddie didn’t know how stressed he would be if he had to make a call to someone to tell them their long term partner had been cheating.

He was leaning forward, elbows on the table in a cosy yellow sweater with a slight worry between his eyebrows. 

He looked so soft. 

Nothing at all like the nautical sea queen look he’d been giving in those photos. He looked comfortable and gentle and a little worried.

“Eddie?”

“Mm-hm?” He hummed, bringing the joint to his mouth and lighting it up before pushing open the window a little more and exhaling out into the dark rainfall outside.

“You okay?”

He shrugged. “I will be.”

“I’m not asking about whether you will be, I‘m asking about now.”

Eddie looked over and watched Steve as Steve watched him through the screen.

“Alright, then no. I’m not okay.” He took another drag. “I’m fucking pissed. I’m sad, I’m upset, I’m hurt, I’m angry, I’m disappointed and I don’t know if all of that is directed more at him for doing this to me or me for not expecting it.”

“How were you supposed to expect it?” Steve shook his head in disbelief. “No one should have to expect to be cheated on.”

“Dunno.” Eddie shrugged, looking back out the window. “Relationship was dying anyway.”

“Okay, and? That doesn’t make cheating okay.”

“Suppose not.”

“I’m sorry, for what it’s worth. For my part in it.”

Eddie glanced back over, taking in the downward tilt of Steve’s mouth and his big sad eyes.

“S’not your fault. You were wronged too.”

“I guess, but…” Steve bit his lip and looked up from the screen, casting his eyes around his kitchen like something was going to pop out and answer whatever question was running through his head. 

Eddie waited. The guy had been very gracious so far and he seemed to genuinely feel bad for all the mess he’d been wrapped up in. 

“I…” Steve continued. “I know how this thing usually goes. You find out you’ve been cheated on and you still love your partner so you tend to focus all your anger towards the person they cheated with rather than the person who actually wronged you.” He looked down, fiddling with some kind of flash card on the table in front of him.

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.” Eddie stubbed his joint out, happy enough with his current buzz. He was sufficiently mellowed, he hadn’t cried yet though that would probably come once he was in bed, but his anger had simmered down to a level where he didn’t feel like putting his fist through a wall but still angry enough to plot.

“I am, I guess.”

Eddie nodded. “This happened to you before?” 

That was probably rude. His filter malfunctioned at the best of times but when he smoked it was all but gone.

“Yeah.” Steve stared down at the cards in his hands. “My mom had to put up with my dad’s infidelity a lot. And my ex-girlfriend cheated on me a while back.” Steve paused before taking a deep breath. “Rick was actually my first attempt to get back into the dating world so…”

“So we can both be sad and angry together.”

“Yeah.” Steve smiled and Eddie stood up, plucking his phone from his desk and settling it on his bedside table, switching his lamp on and throwing himself face down on his bed, probably barely visible to Steve.

“We can be sad and angry together.”

Eddie glanced up. Now that he was closer to his phone, he could better see exactly what Steve was fiddling with, he could read some of the text on the card.

“Stevie.” Eddie sat up, moving closer to the phone and unable to stop the smirk running over his face. Steve’s eyes snapped up towards him. “Did you write out flash cards for when you called me?”

Steve’s eyes widened before he unceremoniously swept all the cards off the table in front of him, his cheeks turning a terrific shade of red and he leaned his face on his hand, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. 

“No.”

It was adorable. Incredibly dorky and adorable.

Eddie laughed, full on braying belly laughs, collapsing backwards onto his bed. When he peeked back up to look at his phone through his giggles, Steve’s face was somehow even redder. 

“Oh my god.” Eddie breathed. “That’s darling.”

“Shut up.”

“No, no. It’s really very sweet.”

“Ugh. Whatever.” Steve rolled his eyes but was still smiling, still had a blush lighting up his cheeks.

Eddie settled himself back against his headboard. “Actually, listen, let me ask you something.”

“Okay?”

“Does Rick know? Does he know that you know? Or that you told me?”

“No.” Steve answered, finally relaxing his fake nonchalance into real relaxation, folding his hands on the table and propping his chin up on them. “I figured if anyone had the right to rip his balls off it would be you.”

Eddie nodded. 

That he could understand. 

“I get that, but there’ll be no ball ripping from where I stand. No, I want to hit him where it hurts.”

“Woulda hurt me plenty.”

“Oh, I’m sure. But the only thing Rick loves more than his own balls is his car.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, he’s like, obsessed with that thing. It’s weird. It’s not even that nice of a car.”

“I’d love to say he has bad taste but considering he picked the both of us, I’m pretty sure his tastes are actually immaculate.”

“Just his decisions are bad.”

“Exactly.”

“Well.” Steve sighed. “I’d love to help any way I can. I hate that I was involved in this, in what he did to you.”

“To us, Stevie. To us.”

“Right, so what’s the plan then?”

“When are you due to see him next?”

Eddie pulled his van into the parking lot of the bar. It was halfway across town and a place that he never frequented if he could help it. Rick liked it though, always had. Eddie just liked other places around town more.

But it could be cute, he supposed. A small little country and sports type place that had a rainbow flag behind the bar and a small number of regulars who, according to Steve, wouldn’t do anything unless you got between them and their drink. 

He knew that Steve was inside with Rick, playing up the flirty angle and acting tipsier than he actually was to put him at ease.

Steve had mentioned one of his signature moves involved pool, bending over the table and wiggling a little bit to keep the attention on him. Pulling out a little pout whenever he missed a shot or asking for help to line up his cue.

Eddie would be more upset by the fact that he was missing the sight of it if he didn't know he'd have the opportunity to see it himself at some point in the future.

They had talked for so long that first night, long enough that the sun was starting to come up by the time they'd both dragged themselves away from their phones to sleep.

They’d talked about their families, their friends, what they were doing in life right now as opposed to what they had hoped they would be doing when they were teenagers. They talked about their school selves and their dating lives and as the conversation wore on Eddie found himself thinking again and again about how long it had been since it had felt so easy to talk to someone like that.

It had been a very long time since Rick had put any effort into getting to know him as he grew through their two years together, like he expected Eddie to stay the same person as he was at the start of the relationship.

After that first night where they’d figured out their master plan, he and Steve had just… kept talking. Throughout the rest of the week up until tonight, they were in almost constant contact, only really taking a break to sleep and work.

Eddie felt connected to Steve and in some roundabout way he was thankful to Rick for bringing him into his life.

He’d even met Robin in passing one day, living two floors below him, holding the door open for him as he tried to wrestle with grocery bags. 

She was so weird. He kind of loved her the second she opened her mouth. Honest, but with the sharpest tongue he’d ever met on a person. 

She had knocked on his apartment door later that evening to tell him Steve was calling over to visit and asking if he wanted to come around to meet him. 

Steve had apparently delegated the asking to her because he was too nervous to do it himself.

Again, adorable.

Steve was somehow even sweeter and even saltier in person than he was over the phone and Eddie tried hard, he tried really hard not to look too much or let his fucking horomones run away with him but Jesus. H. Christ it was difficult. 

The sweetness of his soft sweaters and polos, his gentle smiles and understanding words matched with his salty mean girl attitude that would slip out every so often and the bitchiest of eye rolls that made Eddie’s heart jump.

Eddie was also trying to feel bad about what was happening but honestly, he was losing reasons to care that much.

He hadn’t texted or called Rick once in the last week and Rick himself had never reached out which all at once made Eddie realise he was the primary communicator in the relationship and it hadn’t been reciprocated in a long, long time. 

Adding onto that was the knowledge that Rick was still fucking cheating on him and was in regular contact with Steve left Eddie only half heartedly feeling bad.

He and Steve would go over the screenshots of the conversation together every night and every night Eddie found it harder and harder to hang up the phone.

He was pretty sure Steve was feeling the same way. 

They kept just catching each other staring. Or smiling or, pulling back from touching too much and he was almost sure that as soon as Rick was out of the picture for the both of them, something was going to blossom.

Even now, with Steve inside, flirting up a storm with Eddie’s ex-boyfriend who didn’t know he was an ex yet, they would be ending the night together. 

Robin was waiting back at her apartment with an alibi ready if Eddie needed it though he suspected he wouldn’t.

Neither he nor Rick had a great track record with the police and it would be more trouble than it was worth to get them involved.

Speaking of, Eddie spotted Rick’s car, some souped up four wheel drive monstrosity of small dick syndrome sitting in the shadows and away from the cameras of the bar where Steve had convinced him to park with a suggestion of something happening in those shadows later on. 

He hopped out of his van and threw open the back doors, grabbing his bag of goodies before sidling around Rick’s car to wait.

When the chords of some Shania Twain number started to leak through the walls, the signal he’d been waiting for, the sound loud enough to drown out what Eddie would be doing, he dropped his bag to the floor.

Curling his keys into his fingers and with almost a skip in his step Eddie began to carve a stripe through the immaculate and expensive paint work. Working his way around to the drivers side, he lifted the key up before bringing it back down.

With a little bit of sickening glee, he hacked the word CHEATER into the side of the car, the side that would be immediately visible from the bar door and the side Rick would have to see every time he wanted to get in and get out of the driver's seat.

At least until he paid a bomb to get it fixed.

Eddie had connections in this town. Working as a mechanic here for years would do wonderful things to extend this pain. 

Rick knew fuck all about cars. 

Tucking his keys back into his pocket, he sidled back around to his duffel bag, unzipping it and pulling out his Stanley blade.

Unsheathing it, he gripped it tight in his hand and punched it down into the nearest tyre, listening with satisfaction as the thing slowly deflated before moving onto the other three.

A second Shania song had started up. 

He could hear Steve crooning out from inside, getting louder and Eddie knew he was running out of time. 

He pulled Steve’s baseball bat from the duffle and gave it a little twirl, the same one he’d seen Steve do when he’d first handed it off and he had tried so hard not to be attracted to it. 

He’d failed miserably. 

Maybe Eddie could deal with a gym bunny if that gym bunny was Steve.

With an almighty swing, he brought the bat down, shattering one of the headlights with an almighty crash that wasn’t quite drowned out by the karaoke inside.

Rearing back Eddie swung again, smashing the other headlight and while the music didn’t cut off, he could clearly hear Steve inside calling out for Rick to “Wait!”

Okay, only a few seconds left.

Pulling the bat back and letting the anger and betrayal and indignation flow through him, he brought the bat down hard into the windshield where it embedded itself, the spider cracks of the tempered glass making the thing practically opaque.

The bat was fucking stuck.

Eddie knew that if he was able to pull hard enough he would be able to release the whole windshield from the car but he didn’t even have the strength in him to budge the bat.

“What the fuck?!”

Eddie slowly released his hands from the bat and turned, looking at Rick standing in the doorway of the bar, his mouth hanging wide open in shock, unable to believe what he was seeing. Steve was standing just behind him, with one hand over Rick’s chest.

To anyone else it would look like a comforting gesture, maybe. A show of support. 

But Eddie could tell the hand was there to hold Rick back if he decided to lunge. 

Both Steve and Rick dragged their gaze over the flat tyres, the word carved into the side, the bat stuck in the windshield.

“Hey sweetheart.” Eddie called across the distance, feeling comfortable enough to turn his back to pick up his bag, trusting Steve to at least shout if Rick was about to tackle him.

“Eddie,” Rick breathed, still open-mouthed somehow. “What in the god damned hell has gotten into you?!”

“I wasn’t talking to you.” He slung the bag over his shoulder and held his hand out.

Steve patted Rick twice on the chest and stepped out from behind him. 

Rick watched him walk away looking even more bewildered than before.

With one hand Steve took Eddie’s and with the other he grabbed the bat, wiggling it a few times before pulling it free. 

They broke apart as they reached Eddie’s van, Steve climbing into the passenger seat and Eddie throwing his bag in the back before starting up the van from his position in the driver's seat.

He leaned over Steve to shout out of the window, “Have a nice life, asshole!”

As the van tore out of the lot, Steve stretched both hands out of the window, two middle fingers extended until Rick, still frozen on the spot, was out of sight.

When he pulled himself back inside, Eddie saw him glance his way, a huge grin on his face.

Eddie had a smile to match, whooping into the night as they sped down the road.

AO3

@geekymagicalpotato

Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for her magnificent beta work and to the STWG for their motivation.

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie x steve #penny00dreadful #before he cheats fic #anniversary #1 year posting anniversary challenge #pennys anniversary event #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #fanfic #tw cheating

[weeknd-ogoc]

JUST MARRIED ⋆.*ೃ✧ OSCAR PIASTRI

SUMMARY: in which oscar accidentally get married to his ex girlfriend in vegas! (part 2; lando's alternate ending!) FACE CLAIM: leona naomi wong CONTAINS: over protective best friend!lando, major fluff, some angst!

NOVEMBER - 2023

oscar piastri knew you had hated him. 

after a beautiful seven month long relationship with you, he had ended it with no real explanation. he still loved you dearly but at the time he wasn't sure if being in a serious relationship while driving in formula one was even a good idea.

he couldn't give you all the time in the world like he wanted to and even though you had told him you didn't mind it, he knew you deserved something better than what he was giving you.

"you're so unbelievable..." he remembered you telling him after he told you about needing some time apart and throwing the necklace he had gifted you just a few weeks before. "i never want to speak to you again."

that same night you returned his belongings in a big box and you chose not to speak or text him — not that he expected to stay close friends with you but he had expected to at least talk once in awhile and when you guys didn't, it was something he wasn’t really prepared for.

"i just think it was a mistake to do that, you know she's amazing..." your best friend lando told him during media day in brazil. "i told her that you guys were moving too fast but i'm glad she's moving on..."

lando was real pissed off with oscar after you had came home crying that night of the breakup but he couldn't let it affect their relationship since they were going to be teammates for a good while.

"moving on? is she already seeing someone?" he had asked as lando put his helmet on. "not that it would be wrong bu-"

"well no, it's just that she's moving out of our place and going back to england next month. do you not have her on instagram?"

oscar put his helmet on and shook his head. "no, she blocked me that night."

he remembered feeling sad when lando told him that because you see before the breakup oscar he had promised you that he wanted to move anywhere in the world with you.

he hated that you were moving on without him but he also knew you hated him and he knew he couldn’t make it right with you.

or so he thought. 

MARCH - 2023

oscar had met you when he was just starting out in mclaren through his teammate.

"tell your boyfriend..." lando started singing rather loudly as you had tried to unlink your arm with his. "if he says he's got beef, that i'm a veg-"

"lan if you keep this up..." you struggled to get him to let go of your arm. "we can no longer be friends!"

lando sighed as he was about to tell you that you were being mean but oscar had showed up with a smile on his face.

"oscar! this is my bestest friend, y/n." he introduced the two of you and whispered. "she's single."

which earned a slap on his arm from you. "let's just say lando's rat face keeps scaring the men away."

he rolled his eyes at you and flicked your forehead in a lovingly way. “well she has bad taste in men.”

you sighed before flicking his forhead. "hush..."

lando had been your best friend since childhood and you showed up for most of his races or practices so when oscar saw that you were always around, he decided to finally ask you for your number.

"i'm telling you right now, you become friends with her..." lando joked as he watched you type your number into oscar's phone. "you won't be able to get rid of her anymore."

turns out that later on it was more like lando was the one you guys couldn’t get rid of.

✧

"they seem a little too close, don't you think?" logan asked as he ate is ice cream.

they both watched as lando chased you around the paddock since you had taken his cap.

"they've been friends for years, maybe they're just really comfortable wit each other." oscar shrugged and continued to watch you guys.

a few weeks later you had found yourself getting closer to oscar but since you were living with lando, you guys could never get some alone time.

“i was thinking maybe we can go get dinner and aft-“

lando sat in between the both of you guys and took the bowl of popcorn oscar had in his hands. “i have a thing at four so maybe we can all go at five?”

he had been inviting himself to all the places oscar wanted to take you to and oscar was starting to get a bit annoyed being around lando all the time but he did want to get in his good graces for you.

"we're a package deal." he remembered lando telling him.

“actually lan-“

“sure! five is perfect…” oscar interrupted and gave the both of you a smile. “dinner for three.”

the three of you continued watching the movie and oscar could see that you were visibly annoyed. the both of you had a discussion a few days before about not letting lando get in the way of your plans and oscar had agreed with you but he clearly did not with the plan.

“oh you know logan asked for your number again and i quickly shut him down…” lando started and shoved some popcorn into his mouth. “definitely not the one for you.”

oscar tensed up hearing logan’s name, since they were good friends he knew logan had a crush on you but he never knew he’d actually go for it. “yeah logan is not the one for you…”

“you see, he knows what i’m talking about...” lando nodded in agreement.

APRIL - 2023

the following weeks you had started cancelling your plans with lando, he thought it was real suspicious because the two of you were always inseparable — he looked through your story and saw you were in australia just a few days earlier before the grand prix there. "why the hell is she there?"

a few hours later he saw oscar post on his story that he was there too. "no way!" he gasped which earned him a side eye from max. "they went together and didn't invite me!"

"maybe it's cause you're annoying and maybe it's a date."

max knew it was indeed a date because you were filling him on all the stuff going on with oscar. he knew how protective lando was over you and he was actually the one who told you not to tell lando about it just yet.

lando sat back and began putting the pieces together.

one: you started showing up with oscar on practice days and sometimes leaving with him.

two: the both of you had inside jokes that lando wasn't able to understand.

three: oscar was bit more smiley whenever you were around.

there were more things going on so it was very much obvious to him now.

oscar had told you about taking you to australia very last minute and planned a very romantic day. you had felt bad since lando and you were already planning on hanging out that day but you knew he’d eventually get over it.

“piastri, you better not be planning on drowning me.” you joked as oscar’s hands covered your eyes and led you down a sandy path.

he chuckled before helping you sit on a chair and removing his hands from your eyes. “i promise if i were to kill someone for the first time it would definitely not be this way…”

you looked around and saw a neatly set table with rose petals, candles, all different types of foods and a very nervous oscar sitting on the other side of the table.

the night was filled with laughter from oscar's very corny jokes and definitely some cute moments. you had tried the different foods that he loved.

"you know what this would be amazing with?" you asked and he responded with a little hm as he fed you with a spoon. "a soda and then this would be bomb."

he chuckled before nodding. "i'll make sure to have that for our next date..."

he planned on asking you to be his girlfriend and he was hoping you would say yes — so after you guys finished eating and a few more corny jokes, he took you to the beach for a little walk. he held your hand in one hand and in the other hand he was holding your sandals.

"i really enjoyed today oscar." you told him as you guys stopped walking and wrapped your arms around his neck while he wrapped his around your waist. "thank you."

he placed a soft kiss on your lips and he felt his insides doing flips, he knew that this was finally the time to ask you but before he could your phone began ringing once again.

lando had been sending you messages all day and when you finally had enough you had put your phone on dnd but since it was lando he continued pressing notify anyway.

"sorry..." you mumbled and before you could turn the phone off lando had called you, you rolled your eyes and answered. "norris if you don't qu-"

"i know who you are with! put me on speaker!"

oscar chuckled as you put it on speaker. "hi lan-"

"you need to stop violating my best frie-" at that very moment lando was running around the house with max chasing behind him trying to end the call and just before he could finish his sentence, max had snatched his phone just in time. "sorry guys, hope your date is going good!"

once the phone call ended you turned off your phone and slipped your phone back in your purse. "he'll get over it..."

✧

by the time of the azerbaijan media day on thursday, lando was so over seeing you with oscar all the time. usually it would be you hanging around him but now it was all about oscar. you guys were always being adorably gross everywhere he looked — when he was home he'd see you guys cuddling or kissing somewhere then during practices and races you guys were holding hands or hugging.

"i thought you'd be happy for me..." you told him as you held out his cap, helping him get ready for his next interview.

“i am happy for you, i just think i could’ve chosen someone better for you than…” he side eyed oscar who was struggling to put his shoe on. "him."

lando knew how quick the formula one drivers moved from one girl to the next and he didn't want something like that happen to you, you didn't ever deserve that kind of hurt.

"well i never complained when you were with you know who."

he knew you were referring to his ex-girlfriend who hated that you guys were best friends — he constantly had to reassure her that you were like his sister and nothing was going on between the two of you but she never believed him.

"please lando, you look like you would rearrange the stars and pull them down to wherever she is."

"no you didn't but i broke up with her because she was always trying to sep-"

before he could give you his full response oscar had already wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed your cheek. he rolled his eyes at the sight of you two and took the cap from your hands then he walked to carlos who was talking with charles.

"didn't go well?" oscar asked and you shook your head no.

MAY - 2023

"we're no longer friends with lando." you crossed your arms as you entered max's room and sat on a chair next to him.

he was streaming on twitch and chuckled. "alright but if he asks i definitely protested just a tad bit."

max had seen lando and you have silly little fights all the time so when he saw that a week later the both of you still hadn't talked since azerbaijan and were avoiding each other back at home, he knew he had to intervene.

"you know this whole hanging out with you guys in different parts of the house is getting annoying..." max sighed as he dragged lando into your room. "so will you guys just make up so we can be the three musketeers again."

the three of you laid down on your bed, looking up at the ceiling and after a good four minutes lando finally turned to you. "apologize first."

you quickly turned to him and flicked his forhead. "what do you mean me first? you should be apologizing first."

max looked at the both of you bickering back and forth like children, being friends with the both of you was not easy for him at all — he really thought it took maturity, patience and the will of one of god’s strongest soldier just to get through it. "will you just tell her!"

lando elbowed him and shook his head. "no clue what you're talking about."

"lan, what is he talking about?"

he groaned and looked back to you. "you obviously know that i love you right?"

you sighed and nodded.

he got up and began pacing around the room, he explained how he only wanted the best for you and didn't want you rushing the relationship with oscar because he felt like he was taking you away from him too fast.

"i broke up with you know who because i felt like she was always separating us and now that os-"

"i will always make time for you." you got up and hugged him, lando flicked your forhead before going to hug you too. "you're my best friend!"

max saw the way lando closed his eyes and hugged you a bit more tighter.

how were you still so blind to lando's obvious huge crush on you?

the next time lando saw oscar, he pulled him aside and apologized for how he acted towards him which oscar was really happy about.

"i swear i would never even think about hurting her, she means everything to me."

in his head lando swore that if he ever did, he'd run him over a few times with the mclaren car. "good, glad we're on the same page."

BACK TO NOVEMBER

the grand prix in vegas was finally here.

"c'mon lets go!" lando groaned as he tried helping you get out of his bed. "we're in las vegas and everyone is going out so we need to go out and have some fun while we're here!"

ever since the two of you were kids he did everything in his power to make sure that you were always happy so seeing you now like this, he hated it and he was doing his best to keep your mind off oscar.

so while lando tried getting you up, max came in with the dress that lando had picked out for you. "it's here!"

"a dress? really?" you asked "i'd rather stay in pajamas."

the boys rolled their eyes at you and dragged you up. "change and get ready!"

once they both had left, you sat at the edge of the bed debating whether or not you should but after awhile you thought about how if it hadn't been for lando you probably would've been back home still moping around and how hard lando was trying to make you happy so just this once you'd go out with him.

so about two hours later when you had texted lando that you were finally ready, you looked at the mirror adding the last few touches to your makeup.

"you look beautiful." you heard lando's voice and saw him standing by the doorway through the mirror. "you are beautiful."

✧

you guys ended up meeting up with the rest of the guys at the club and let's just say half of them were not sober.

"lando!" you guys heard carlos's voice.

"go, i'll be here." you told lando as he nodded as he got up from the booth. "i'll be back..."

you looked around and saw oscar and logan at another booth, accidentally making eye contact with the both of them. "shoot." you mumbled and quickly grabbed the drink lando had ordered for you guys and began drinking it.

you had seen oscar a handful of times but you could never bring yourself to talk to him, he had tried calling and texting but you decided to block him on everything for the meanwhile — you had always told him you didn't mind that you guys couldn't always go out on dates or be around each other 24/7 so when he broke up with you because of that you had felt like there ad to be more to the story.

"a shot for everyone!" max yelled for the fourth time.

and so before you knew it, you had gone through a few drinks and since everyone had convinced lando to go to the dj booth he put daniel on babysitting duty.

when oscar saw that lando was nowhere in sight he walked over to you and offered you a drink. "how are you?"

"i'm great, mega actually."

he nodded and watched you drink the cup he had just given you rather quickly.

"um, i'll be back..." daniel announced since he felt like you guys needed space to talk.

the both of you nodded.

you had suddenly felt a little dizzy but decided to look over to oscar who was already looking at you. "you know i really loved you, well still do." you groaned and rested your head onto the table. "do you love me?"

"of coarse i do, you're the love of my life."

lando saw from the distance that oscar was putting a few strands of your hair behind your ear. "are you kidding me."

when the song finished he got down the booth and made it over to the table he last saw you guys but the both of you were nowhere in sight. he asked around if anybody had seen you but they all shook their heads.

"they went on a walk." logan had told him. "i'm about to head out, i'll let you know if i find them."

✧

logan knew that if lando found you guys he'd just pull you away from oscar so he made sure to keep lando away but by the morning when he found himself passed out in a limbo holding onto a half eaten cake that said just married with you guys, he thought it wasn't one of his best ideas.

oscar and logan saw that you had big shiny ring on your finger and suddenly flashbacks started hitting the both of them of the night.

"we got married..." oscar whispered. "how could you let that happen!"

"i don't even remember it all that great man."

logan remembered finding you guys sitting on a bench somewhere and then after a few tears and shouting from the both of you, oscar had the crazy idea to enter a chapel. "this will prove that i would never hurt you again."

oscar remembered the small vows you guys said but midway you stopped. "oh god, i feel like throwing up..."

before they could wake you up they decided to see if they could put some more of the pieces together and as they did logan received a phone call.

"shit..." his phone was pretty much completely cracked but he managed to pick up. "hello?"

"sargeant, i've been calling you all night." he heard lando's voice. "where are they?"

you instantly shot your head up at lando's angry voice. "fuck, i have a major headache..."

oscar shook his head no. "um not sure, hav-"

"quit the bullshit, you're stories on instagram says a completely different story."

as lando went on about murdering both him and oscar, he went on his story to see that he had posted some of their adventures from last night — he had pictures of you and oscar kissing at the chapel, oscar feeding you part of the just married cake, a selfie with all three of you outside the chapel, oscar holding onto your hair as you threw up next to the chapel and then finally the last one was a video of you guys singing to a katy perry song in the limbo.

"how could you let them get married!" you overheard lando yell.

married???

"all three of you need to come back to the hotel now."

so finally, the three of you had gone back to the hotel and on the way there they filled you in on what they could remember but honestly the marriage had been the least of your worries, lando was never one to yell.

the only time you had heard him really yell like that was during a match of call of duty. "what a fucking dumbass! did you see that?"

and even though you had no clue what was going on since you had been too busy picking out what sweater you wanted to wear out of his closet, you nodded. "what a dumbass..."

logan was the first one to get out of the limbo and before you could oscar pulled you back in from getting out. "we'll meet you there..."

he held onto your hand and looked at the rings he remembered buying from some jewlery store, just a few minutes before taking you into the chapel.

"i'm sorry for breaking up with you bu-"

"it's fine if you want to get a divorce, i know that you had your rea-"

"no! that's not what i was going to say..." he sighed and then looked down to his ring finger. "i was going to propose the night that we broke up but then i thought about my job and i jus-"

before he could finish, the door had been opened and lando's face had appeared. "get out - the both of you now!"

before you knew it, lando was dragging you back to the hotel room and you pulled your arm away from his grip. "lando, calm down..."

he let out a chuckled as he turned around. "i'm so stupid, how could i leave you alone and now look! you're married with your ex boyfriend!" he shook his head and grabbed your wrist again. "we can leave right now, i'll just miss the race tomorrow and i can take you to go file for a divorce."

before the both of you got could enter the room, you pulled your arm form him again. "lan no, i'm not divor-"

he shook his head once more in confusion. "you dont have to go through with this..."

"he's my husband now, i have to see if it'll work out."

since he had you back for these past few weeks, he had thought that maybe after all of this you'd finally realize that maybe you loved him in the way that he loved you but clearly that was not the case because this changed everything.

since you guys were children you had always told him about about your dream wedding — you had promised that you were not going to be like your parents. "i won't ever get a divorce like them..."

you saw a tear fall out of his eye and he huffed trying to hold in what he truly wanted to tell you.

"lan, please don't cry..." you softly told him as you held his cheek in your palm, he rested it there for a moment and smiled.

"i've always loved you, you know that right?"

he had always said that but this time it sounded different, it was more like a confession.

you nodded as you felt a hot tear drip down your face. "i know and i love you too..." you turned and saw oscar at the end of the hallway with a bouquet of roses. "i just don't love in the way that you love me."

he looked at oscar holding the bouquet of roses and on his cheek he felt the cold ring you had on your finger so he turned back to you and he nodded. "that's okay, i hope you're happy with oscar..." he left a soft kiss on your cheek. "and i truly hope it works out."

you smiled at him and then walked to where oscar was. "will he be okay?"

you gently placed a kiss on his lips and nodded. "yeah, he'll be okay."

as he held onto your hand and led you to your hotel room, he excitely thought about what the future could hold for the both of you — he thought about giving you a real big wedding soon, you being there the day he becomes world champion, a big house with kids in the future and a lifetime of happiness.

"want to move in my hotel room, mr.piastri?" you asked.

he nodded and kissed your forhead. "mrs.piastri, i'll move to wherever you are from now on..."

alternate ending:

JUST MARRIED ll ・。.・゜✭・. LANDO NORRIS

my f1 & f2 masterlist!

© weeknd-ogoc, 2023

#op81 #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri social media au #op81 x reader #oscar piastri f1 #mctwinks #mclaren #lando norris #lando norris x reader #ln4 x reader #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant #ln4 #f1 social media au #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 smut #las vegas gp 2023

[m0llygunn]

sans toi (eddie munson x fem!reader)

summary: The realities of life lead you to be apart from Eddie for a few days. When you return, Eddie shows you how much he missed you.

contents: 18+! smut, p in v sex, fluffy/sweet sex, french language. a/n: mini french lesson: 'sans toi' is 'without you', 'toujours avec toi' is 'always with you'. french is my second language and sometimes phrases just sound nicer lol. also, this is way different from my other stuff, just thought id try it out. wc: 1k

Desperate fingertips trail up the underside of your thighs, skin pinching between grip, guiding you closer to his lap.

“Missed you so much.” He whispers, words sailing through the living room of the trailer you’ve become so fond of.

“Was only a few days, Mr Munson.” You tease gently, voice dancing with excitement. You like him when he’s like this. 

Fingertips turn claw like, pressing firmer into your skin leaving lust laced wells in your flesh around each of his 10 digits. Bruising but welcomed. 

He sits up, chasing the lips he’s been dreaming of since he was 15, kissing since only a few months ago. He missed you more than ever. It has only been a few days, but a few days is a few too many. 

Since the day he had your sweet lips on his, tasted the syrup of your goodness, he knew there would never be a moment he didn’t want you, that he didn’t need you. It was damning and fortuitous all at once.

Your hips bracketing his on the worn couch, his fervent grip travels upwards, only stopping when he’s halted by his fingers trapping under the material of your shorts. 

His focus becomes your lips. How you open up just for him, tongue caressing his so perfectly. The way your little gasps get stuck in your throat, and when he bites your plump lower lip, how those gasps mature into moans. He’s never met someone who’s made him feel like this.

Every instant of desire is chased with the unholy pain of love. He loves you. It makes his heart ache, and it’s not fair when he has you like this, making his cock ache just the same. A double edged sword until you give him the gift of making it all better.

“How much did you miss me?” You say, keeping your voice dainty. It reminds Eddie of a wind chime in the breeze of a hot summer's day, sounding like how he imagines stars twinkling in the night sky would. It's beautifully soothing, yet there’s a certain quality that sends shivers down his spine.

“So much, baby.” He answers, words blooming easily from his chest because of their verity. If you asked him to describe how much he missed you, then he’d have no answer. There simply aren't enough words in the English language to describe that. Even if he pulled from every language in the world, they would never translate to the feelings in his heart. 

“You gonna show me how much you missed me?”

Clothing sheds easily, heaps of entwined material gathering on the floor. He unwraps you, replacing each clothed piece with dozens of freely spared kisses in their wake. Positions changing, he brings your back to press gently against the cushions.

Divine and holy; your body below his. Each kiss pressed upon your skin like a prayer. He worships you, showing you his devotion by speckling every inch of your skin with his affection. His favourite part, your eyes; second, your smile; third, your everything. Beyond being just a favourite: your heart, your kindness, your love. 

Nose grazing along your chest, following the trail of his lips, he shows you how much he missed you by going slow. Taking his time, both for you and for him. 

He transcribes each moment to memory. He captures it through his touch, hands grazing over your body, feeling you, touching you, reading you, pleasing you. 

When he finally slips inside, the moan that sings from you is better than he remembers. Sweeter than the one he thought of last night while he laid in bed alone, and more sugary than the one he thought of the day before while he lazied in the very same spot, sans toi.

He rolls his hips into yours, letting his consciousness absorb you entirely. From the way your walls hug him, his cock sliding in and out of the greatest life force he’s ever known, all the way to how your palms wrap around his caging forearms, tethering yourself to him in such an intimate way. He watches you, taking in every detail, every lash that flutters, every waver of your lip, every set in your jaw as you hum out the most beautiful melody for him, he notices it all.

It’s not long before your tethered hands shift to an anchoring hold, pulling him closer to you. Just the same, your hummed melody turns into a pleading cry, strumming every single one of his heart strings. 

You want it faster and Eddie’s never been known to tell you no.

Everything he does is for you, he’d be crazy to deny you of any luxury, he wants you to have it all. The luxury right now is one you’re deserving of, so he moves his hips quicker, picking up speed, doing everything just how he knows you like it. 

He missed you and he’s showing you by using his attentiveness to his advantage. Every sound you make a cue to another action that triggers your next mewl, he operates strategically with his heart guiding him along the way. 

He fights off his own release with vigor, this is for you. But when he feels your walls clamping around him, milking his cock for everything he has he can’t help the way he spasms, the way his body takes over, jolting, abs constricting.

You beg for him, beg to feel it inside, feel him fill you up, and once again, anything you want is yours. Everything Eddie is, everything he has, it’s all yours. 

Cheek meeting your chest, he turns to press a kiss to your sweltering skin. Your fingers card through his hair and he’d pray to every being in the world to stay like this forever, to be with you forever.

While he knows he’ll fall victim to reality from time to time again, Eddie is a dreamer who never wants to be without you again.

Toujours avec toi.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction

[piratefishmama]

Beware The Thorns | Part 8

It wasn’t dark, it wasn’t dank, and it wasn’t dimly lit. Steve didn’t like stereotypes, or cliches. He didn’t like the idea of doing his business in a dark warehouse, or a basement with leaky pipes, he liked adequate lighting and things to be at least slightly sanitary. Robin knew these things, his previous ‘meeting’ had been thrown together by someone else, but Robin knew how to set up a damn fine line up.

Four men, and one woman, sat in chairs lined up next to each other, in the living room space of a currently under-development block of apartments. The one they were in was finished as were a few others, but the rest were still being built, workmen having been sent home for the day with a full days wage for their discretion.

All blindfolded, all tied up, Robin stood behind them alongside two men, back facing a wall, never a window, always with her eye on the door. The door where Steve stood, eyes on the four in front of him as he rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, hands already covered by gloves.

“What shook loose?”

“These four have talked to Eddie in the past few months. Cant tell you what they said to him, but all four have had direct verbal contact with him in some way shape or form.” Their involvement in what’d happened wasn’t likely, Robin would have bet a good chunk of whatever Steve would pay her for her work, but Steve needed it.

Steve needed to be sure.

“Just these four?” He loosened his tie before easing it away from his neck and hanging it up onto the rack where his coat and suit jacket rested.

“Mmmhm.” Most steered clear of Eddie, Eddie wasn’t to be spoken to, only Steve could talk to Eddie, and if you had to talk to Eddie, it was short, and sweet, and never about anything involving what Steve did for work.

Robin wouldn’t voice her doubts though, that wasn’t her job. Not in this environment anyway. It was her job to deliver these people, and allow Steve to do the rest. Had they been in his office, or in his living room, had he asked her outside of that room if she actually suspected these people, then perhaps it’d be her role to tell him no.

No Steve, your theories are straight up kookie-dook, Eddie just left because that’s what Eddie had to do.

That was not her role in that room. Her role was to stand there, and be quiet until excused.

“You can leave.” He didn’t look at her as he said that. He didn’t watch her as she nodded once and made for the door. She wasn’t a fan of interrogations. He got it, he understood, she’d been in a few herself over the years, the worst one involving Russians. They both had scars from that one. She’d never stayed in on his interrogations for that very reason. It made her uncomfortable knowing he was capable of that.

She liked the chase, liked the hunt, she didn’t like the kill.

He waited for the door to close behind her, to approach the four in front of him. He was grateful for two things, one… efficiency. Robin had conjured these four up within a week. And two, timesaving. She’d put them all together to save time. Amazing.

He motioned for the two extras to come forward and remove the blindfolds. He recognised all four of them.

A driver he fired two months ago for buying questionable things on his company provided credit card that was solely to be used for food and gas while working.

A secretary who still worked for him.

One of the security guards he’d hired on a temporary basis for a charity thing he’d thrown a month ago.

And a dealer from the nearby college. Not employed by him, but surely recognised him, would know who Steve was, would know of his many lucrative side businesses. Steve was instantly suspicious of two of them. The other two not so much.

All four appeared scared, there was no defiance, no faux confidence, or self-satisfaction in any of their expressions. Just fear. “You all recognise me, don’t you?” He didn’t need their answers, he knew they did. “You’re here… because you maybe broke a rule. I don’t want to hurt any of you, that’s not what I want to do. I would very much prefer it if these gloves stayed clean.” He lifted his hands, wiggling the clear gloves he wore on his hands. “Cleaners cost a fair bit, it’s always more for viscera removal.” A sob had him snap his gaze to the woman, stare thunderous, not an ounce of empathy in it. “Stop that. Tears won’t help you.”

She bit her bottom lip, nodded, and fell silent once more.

“The reason I’m beginning with a verbal interrogation, is because I have no real proof that any of you actually broke this rule. So let’s keep this violence free, shall we? I ask you a question, and you answer, I’ll decide if you’re telling the truth or not, sound fair?” Lie detectors didn’t do shit with his employees. They were all trained on them, even the damn secretaries could pass a lie detector test.

He didn’t employ useless people. He didn’t employ liabilities.

He continued when he was met by silence, not one of them wanting to argue less violence should suddenly appear on the menu. “Great! My partner, Eddie Munson… you’ve all met him.” He eyed the dealer, he had no idea that Eddie was taking something, it didn’t change how he saw the man, but… he wished he’d have known, he could have gotten Eddie better than whatever he was getting from elsewhere. “He… left. Me. Usually I’m aware this sort of thing wouldn’t really warrant a line up like this, definitely not an interrogation, but… his leaving doesn’t quite make sense.” He couldn’t make it make sense. Maybe he was just paranoid.

Steve began to pace in front of them, back and forth as he continued on “We were having such a nice night, everything seemed fine, and then… the morning after, out of nowhere, he ended things. Now, trust me, I know sometimes I can get a little in my own head, I can often think everything is fine but be missing glaringly obvious cues to things hurtling toward relationship disaster, but… there were no cues. Gone over it a bunch of times, not a single cue.” He stopped in front of the dealer.

The woman who’d tried tears to lessen whatever blow she was potentially about to receive from the big dangerous man.

“All of you, every single one of you, have spoken to him at least once in the past few months and you all know who I am. What I do. What we don’t know, is what you spoke about, so… one by one, why don’t you tell me?” Steve lowered down to a crouch in front of her, arms resting on his knees, she looked so well put together, but he knew she also worked as a TA at the college. “Stacey, right? Stacey Gingham, twelve Cornwallis, married to… Thomas Gingham, two children, Matthew, and Penelope?” He didn’t need to threaten them, just his knowledge of them was the threat, he watched the realisation of that fact dawn on her face in real time. “Hi… you’re the only one here who’s never worked for me, and so shouldn’t know about the rule. So tell me, how do you know Eddie?”

“I—I work for—”

“It doesn’t matter who you work for, Stacey, it doesn’t, your connections are useless here. I’m not scared of them. Just tell me how you know Eddie and we can get out of this unscathed, okay?” Violence wasn’t the goal here, he didn’t want to hurt them, but he would if necessary.

Innocent or not if they pushed their luck he’d respond as needed.

“He… he buys from me sometimes. His—His brother, Dustin Henderson? He goes to the college, real smart kid, highschooler but he won a place to attend the science classes for free twice a week. Eddie buys weed from me on the days he meets Dustin at the college, that’s all, he only ever buys weed. We talk about his brother, how he’s doing in the class, uh—if he needs any support, I don’t—I didn’t even know he was connected to you, Mr. Harrington, I swear.”

Eddie had a brother? Right… one of the many things he didn’t know about Eddie.

He nodded his head, silent in his processing. Then he stood up, and took one large step to the left of her, stopping at Charlie. His driver. He saw no lie in what she’d said, no break in eye contact, no pupil dilation, just standard stress indicators. She was scared, she wasn’t lying. “Charlie. You spoke to Eddie when you drove him around the city, didn’t you? Did you talk about me?”

“N-Not about you. He didn’t even ask about you Mr. Harrington an—an I know I fucked up with the card, I know I did that an I can’t take that back but—but I know the rule sir, I know it. Even if he’d have asked, sir I wouldn’t have—I wouldn’t have I swear!”

The secretary was next, he was cute, young, bit of a party guy, used to flirt with the sandwich girl at the office whenever she made her way up with Steve’s regular PB&J until she shut him down with a polite ‘you’re not my type’. She had a huge crush on Robin, it was adorable.

It was the same, Eddie had only spoken to him once, and it was about directions to the closest not Starbucks coffee place.

The security guard apologized for any confusion, and told him Eddie had only asked about his job, about other places he’d worked at cause he recognised him from a bar he’d bounced across town. Dead end, after dead end, after dead end.

Not a single viable suspect, not a single liar in the bunch.

He knew many in his position would push harder. Many would resort to violence in a bid to force out another answer, even if another answer didn’t exist. He knew many would kill, pushing it too far only to receive the same answer over and over again until the victim stopped talking. He knew what these people expected to happen to them.

Steve wasn’t that kind of person.

He walked out of that room after giving his two men the instruction to release them, turned to Robin who still stood outside the door, a knowing expression on her face, and simply asked “can you find him for me?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Part 10

#PirateWrites #BewareTheThornsFiclet #No Upside Down AU #Steddie #Escort!Eddie #Shady!Steve

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: She Calls Me Daddy Now {One Shot} ***

Title: She Calls Me Daddy Now {One Shot} ***

Lewis Hamilton x GF Reader

Warning: Language, 18+ Content, NSFW, Petty Behavior, Exhibitionism, Cursing, Slight Voyeurism, Back Door Play, Oral, Crude Language, 

Words: 5.4k

Summary: Your ex was the one to leave first. The breakup wasn’t mutual and for 4 months you were FWB until things fizzled. Flash forward 5 years later you’re in a happy relationship with Lewis when said ex comes strutting back thinking he still got you. After seeing you and him in the background of a friend’s live at a party he drops his plans and decides to tap into his reckless side and show ol’ dude who you belong to and remind you why he’s the only one for you.

Note: The self-declared queen of petty is back with more entertainment for the petty ones out there (me). Tell me Lewis wouldn’t be like this though.

 As always, thank you so much for reading, I appreciate it!

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!

 ***NOT Edited/Proofread***

~~~~~~~

“I think it’s best if we end things now before we end up hating each other.”

 You blankly stared at him expecting him to further elaborate. He didn’t though.

 “So—that’s it?”

 Malcom shrugged his shoulders then sighed. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. It wasn’t like this was a shock because you’d been distant with each other for the last month or so and hadn’t really spent too much time together, but this was the natural cycle of your relationship. You’d have months of hot and heavy behavior where neither of you wanted to be far from each other. Then you’d have months of distance where you still kept up appearances for a relationship but being up under each other was more a turn off. You’d thought this was another roundabout cycle of that. Malcom stood from the table.

“What if I disagree?”

Malcom paused, glanced at you for a few moments then slowly sat back down. “Come on Y/N. Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

 “Is there someone else?”

Malcom didn’t respond to that; he finished his drink then pulled out his phone to answer a call but hesitated.

“Is that her?”

“There’s no one else, Y/N. I just think maybe we need a break. I think we’ve hit a rut and need some time apart.”

This was unbelievable. He was the one to chase you. He was the one to put in the work to cuff you up and now he was the one who wanted to break up. Malcom stood again then rubbed the back of his hand against your cheek. “Stay beautiful.”

With that he walked out of the café leaving you at the table to wonder what the fuck had happened. You weren’t used to being the one broken up with. It felt odd being on this side of the table.

 “Well, ain’t that something.”

When you’d told your friends later that night, they were equally shocked, but their sentiments were the same, “fuck him.” They went into overdrive showcasing all the things you could do now that you didn’t have a boyfriend and though you knew you were lined up to enjoy life more you still had to be real with yourself, you weren’t happy about the end of your near two-year relationship.

You took the necessary time to nurse your bruised ego and hurt feelings and worked on yourself with a ton of self-care, therapy sessions, a whole body and mind reset and plenty of holistic care. After 4 months you’d dropped twenty pounds, eradicated the hurt feelings and patched up your ego. The night you and your friends went clubbing to help you get your groove back and a new body to fall under, there Malcom was.

What started at flirtatious looks across the club turned to him buying you drinks, dedicating songs from the DJ, a couple dances and then a trip back to your place for what you could only classify as a drunken mistake.

However, said drunken mistake continued to happen again and again and again. One night turned to two, then three and four, until before you’d realized it, you’d hooked up every other night for two weeks straight. So, the agreement was no strings. Whenever either of you felt an itch, you’d meet up and do filthy things to one another all in the name of pleasure and escapism. Was it fun? Absolutely. Was he good in bed? Definitely. Did you see it going much longer? No.

Sure enough, after 4 months things fizzled, and you were the one to leave this time. That brought much needed points to your ego, but it gave you peace of mind more. You were over it and ready to move on. It was true what people said, time heals all wounds, and everything runs its course.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

 -5 Years Later-

“Yeeeeeeeees!”

 You jumped up and down watching as Lewis’ car sped past nabbing the P2 placement.

 “Yeah baby!”

 You and your friends exchanged hugs, all of you ecstatic for his victory. You turned back and watched the jumbo screen and tried to hold back your tears. It had been a long season and he still had plenty of it to go. This season was a major struggle with results Lewis didn’t like. This was one of the first semi pleasing finishes. You knew though he’d taken 2nd he wouldn’t be one hundred percent happy about it because Lewis only accepted number one. He’d be the hardest on himself today.

Not wanting to wait anymore to congratulate him, you made your way to the team are where you planned on waiting for him. Seeing the celebration was well underway, you exchanged hugs with most of the crew on the team.

 “Maybe he’ll be easier to manage tonight,” Toto said.

You snorted because you both knew that wasn’t going to be the case. He knew he’d be just as hard on himself for a P2 placement as he would to not have placed at all. The look you exchanged said he was thinking the same thing you were. You both chuckled then.

 “He’s lucky to have you, Y/N. You get him in a way not many do.”

You smiled as pride emulated from you. It had taken work, work that you both had excruciatingly put in over the three-year duration of your relationship. He’d taken the time and care to learn you by understanding your quirks and ticks. He took the care to learn what triggered you and your preferred love language. Even though both of you had equally felt as if your relationship wouldn’t work because of how much work it was when you factored in both your schedules neither of you gave up.

 “When I said I was all in, I meant it, Y/N. I’m all fucking in.”

You smiled at the memory of his words the first time you’d made love for the first time. You’d taken a whole different route with him because you didn’t want to appear easy. You’d made him wait a whole 6 months before you let him take you to bed. In that time, you really got to know each other and build a level of trust between you that laid the foundation for where you were now.

You saw Lewis rolling up and seconds after the car stopped the crew stormed. Their cheers were deafening, and their antics only made you laugh. They clapped him on his back, shook him, and shouted numerous congratulations. When his eyes locked on yours, your belly flipped. The look in his eyes said it all. He smiled and nodded to those around him as he made his way to you. Those to the back of the huddle got his intention and paved a way for him to jog over to you. Lifting you into his arms, you wrapped your legs around his waist and hugged him tightly.

“Congratulations baby!”

He squeezed you so tightly you just wanted to melt into him and call his body your new home.

“Thank you, love.”

Your eyes met again just before you pressed your lips to his. What was to be a sweet, demur kiss quickly morphed into something more, something frenzied. His hands roamed up to your backside and the soft nudge you felt between your bodies said someone wanted attention and they wanted it now. Lewis groaned as he nibbled your bottom lip.

 “Woah, let’s save that part of the celebration for later,” Toto muttered into Lewis’ ear with his hand on his shoulder.

 Embarrassment filled you as you realized you had the attention of damn near everyone around. Some looked as if they knew just where this was about to go, others looked amused while a few were slightly jealous or an emotion similar to it. Lewis placed you back on your feet, but you kept your body pressed to his.

 “Gonna be able to get him under control?”

 Lewis grinned then kissed your jaw right by your ear.

 “That’s your job.”

 He then turned and walked away with his crew to get to the after-race procedure. Before he disappeared, he turned then winked at you and it was then you saw just how hard he was, and that race suit was not helping one bit. Did he care? Nope, the smug bastard looked proud.

Sure enough, three hours later his “hard, bulging print” was all over social media. Everywhere was referring to it that way and everyone was going wild for it. They thought it didn’t leave much to the imagination and fueled all the rumors that he was in fact blessed by every mythological god that was ever worshiped.

“Oh, this one is funny,” your best friend Sonja began holding her phone to her face, “I have no idea how his girlfriend takes that. From the looks of him, I’d say he’s at least an eight incher—at least.”

 You pinched your lips. They were not far from the truth at all.

“Wow, this one. Gah-damn! Sir Lewis only got knighted once but I think he qualifies for a second because that’s a whole nother grown ass man down there.”

That one had you busting out with a laugh. The three of you were cackling for quite a while until Deja read another.

“He’s a shower and a grower. RIP to his girl’s holes.”

You clapped your hand over your mouth as your eyes rounded as big as the moon in the sky. “Oh my god!”

“Girl don’t even act surprised. RIP to you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Obviously my holes are just fine.”

“So you say.”

You giggled because you knew you’d told them about the lengthy adjustment period when you guys first started having sex. There was definitely an adjustment period and plenty of weeks maybe months where you were left sore.

“That man knew what he was doing,” Deja said.

You agreed. There was no misinterpreting his intentions. Lewis was the kind of person who didn’t care about what people said about him. He didn’t care much about his image and really didn’t care who thirsted or who didn’t. He only cared that you never misunderstood things with him. You made your hard limits clear and he’d respected them ever since. You didn’t hate the thirst he received, didn’t hate the fangirls and guys who thought he was as hot as you thought he was. It was the same with him when it came to you.

“You better get the thirsties under control.”

“Naw, no need. They can thirst, shit me too!”

The party was getting louder now, and everyone was surely having a good time. You still hadn’t seen Lewis since leaving the paddock a few hours ago. You’d split up, him to fulfill after-race obligations mainly interviews and photos and you to get ready for the party. He had a whole week before his next race and after this win, you’d be damned if he didn’t actually celebrate it.

Pulling out your phone, you texted.

 MSG: Are you here baby?

You took the glass that Sonja was holding out to you and took a big sip. You phone vibrated but before you could look at it you felt an arm wrap around your waist. Smiling, you turned expecting to see Lewis but who you saw had you looking and feeling like you’d stuck your hand in fire.

“Hey beautiful,” Malcom said with a wide smile.

“Uh—Ma—Malcom?”

“The one and only. Funny seeing you here.”

Registering that his hand was around your waist, you pulled away taking a few steps away from him. The look on Malcom’s face shifted to confusion but quickly back to a cocky grin.

“Long time no see. What’s it been? A year or two?”

“More like three but who’s counting. You good?”

He nodded as he took a sip from his glass, “Yeah, yeah. Just—”. Malcom to a step to you closing the space you’d just opened. His head dipped to your ear. “I miss you.”

You leaned back and looked him over. His eyes were unreadable. Could he have been telling the truth? Maybe. Did you care? Not really.

 “Uh--.”

 “You don’t miss me? I was thinking about you the other night and how we used to get down and I almost called you. I wanted to.”

“Malcom--.”

His hand came around your waist again pulling you closer. You could tell he’d had a few.

“Maybe we could try again,” he added.

“Do we have a problem?”

You peeled his hand open and pried his arm off of you. As he reached for you again, another arm tightly wrapped around your waist pulling you backward. Your body knew who it was and the tension that was coursing through you dissipated, and a calm washed over you.

His voice was low, unwavering, and devoid of emotion, but his touch was possessive. His hand dipped lower resting just right atop your pubis. Malcom’s eyes widened then his brow crooked as his eyes fell to where Lewis’ hand rested. When he clenched his jaw, you knew he got the message.

“Problem?”

“Yeah. Looked like you were lost or something,” Lewis added.

Malcom and Lewis stared at each other. Whereas Malcom’s eyes radiated annoyance, Lewis looked calm and so goddamn smug that your belly flipped. It was so sexy how in control he always was.

“Not lost. Y/N and I go way back. I just wanted to get her to my room and catch up like old times.”

You cringed. He did not have to say all that. Anyone with a brain could decipher what that really meant. Lewis’ fingers tightened against your body, and you knew his annoyance was raising. He wasn’t a visibly jealous man ninety percent of the time. He kept his jealousy quiet, and under wraps and never let it out until you were alone. Right now, the tightness of how he held you was the only visible sign of it.

“Em, Malcom and I used to date—until we didn’t and moved on,” you clarified wrapping your arms behind you and holding Lewis as close as he was holding you.

Malcom’s jaw clenched again.

“Yeah, 2 years, then a couple months of—ya’ know,” Malcom said with a wink at Lewis.

“Oh. Got it. Oh wait, baby is this the one who couldn’t--.” Lewis asked drifting off to stick his tongue out and flick it.

You pinched your lips in an effort to keep the snort at bay. One thing with Lewis he’d always resort to pettiness to put someone in their place.

“Ah, I see. Well enjoy the party, Malcom.”

Lewis turned to you then dipped his lips to your ear. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He led you away keeping his hand around your waist. When you were a few feet away but still within eyesight of Malcom he turned you, pressed your back against the pillar then kissed you. Dipping his tongue into your mouth, you moaned and held him close. You knew what he was doing but didn’t care. You had your moments of recklessness too.

You danced, drank, laughed, and partied to your heart’s delight. With every drink you had, your freak meter went higher and higher. You couldn’t keep your hands off of Lewis and didn’t care who wanted to watch. With your back against his chest, you ground your hips circling yourself on his hardened dick. Lewis groaned.

“Be careful, princess.”

“Why? We both know you don’t care walking around with your dick print on display.”

He laughed then nuzzled his face into your neck. “I want you so bad," he mumbled into your ear before he bit down on your earlobe.

A few seconds later, he stood keeping your ass firmly pressed against his crotch. “I’ll text you.”

He slipped away disappearing in the crowd as you swayed feeling the slickness between your legs. Your horniess had reached critical levels.

  -Lewis-

You were so well suited for him that every time you were near, he automatically responded. It didn’t matter where you were or who you were with. One spark was all it took. He feared in the beginning that something that burned so hot, so furious and so wild would only end badly but three years in and there was no sign this trolley was going off the rails. He was sure, you were his forever.

The way you brought out his reckless side was dangerous and the way you knew it and capitalized on it was scandalous. Fucking with you he’d end up on the front of The Sun with his pants around his ankles and balls deep inside of you.

He chuckled to himself remembering the types of places you’d had to sneak off to in order to get a quick nut. The dressing room of The Graham Norton Show, behind a tent at Coachella, all over multiple paddocks, inside his racecar, underneath a jacked-up car while hiding from the crew, a dark corner of a club, a dark park, in the countryside after taking a break from riding horses, in the dessert after dirt biking. The places were endless.

As he looked around for the perfect spot to disappear with you, he tried to keep his desires in check. When he peeped into a private show room, he saw that same dude from before sitting there with his phone in hand.

“Op, my bad.”

Backing out he continued his search.

“I know who you are.”

“What?”

“I know who you are. Everyone knows who you are. Everyone also knows that you fuck out girls and toss em’ aside. You think that’s right for Y/N?”

His brow cocked and his head angled to the side. Taking a step to him he took a breath. “So you think you know me.”

“Look I don’t give a shit that you’re some hot shot driver and celebrity. I don’t give a fuck bout any of that. I only care about Y/N.”

“Now? She told me about the last relationship she was in. Told me how you broke up with her. Now you’re here what—playing the good guy? The guy who wants to save her from bad ol’ me?”

“We both know you’re not serious about her. Let her go.”

“Ah, I get it. You think if I’m out the picture she’ll come running back to you?”

“I know it. You’re just a rich and fancy distraction. You know she used to call me daddy.”

 He smirked. This guy’s audacity was ridiculous. Just then he felt the evil tinge on his pettiness, and he was powerless to resist it.

 “Cool.”

 It was all he needed to get out before he walked back down the hall he’d come from and back to you.

  ~~~~~~~

 -Y/N-

It had been almost fifteen minutes since he’d disappeared and the longer, he was gone the hornier you became.

MSG: Baby let’s go back to the hotel. I don’t wanna wait anymore.

You knew he’d be able to read the whine in your text.

A pair of lips latched onto your neck almost making you flinch.

“Mmm, let’s go.”

“I found the perfect spot. Come on princess.”

Lewis bit your neck as he tweaked your nipple. You cried out because that was all it took for some wetness to turn into a waterfall. Allowing him to lead you through the strip club themed party, you held on tightly to his hand. Up a flight of stairs and into a dark and neon lit hallway is where he led you. Before he continued, he pressed you against a wall so you could feel how hard he was.

“Do you want me as much as I want you?”

You nodded and made a move to kiss him, but he pulled away and yanked you after him. Walking into a room that slightly darker and lit with neon lights you barely registered anything before Lewis had you pressed against the wall with his tongue down your throat. You moaned and rubbed yourself against him using his clothes for friction against our hard and aching nipples.

“I love the way your lips taste baby.”

You wrapped your arms around him and grabbed onto his perfectly defined ass.

“What if someone--.”

Lewis pressed a button on the wall. “No one in, no one out.”

You smirked and went in to kiss him but again he backed away and went to the row of cushioned seats against the mirrored wall. His legs were wide open as he watched you.

“You want a show baby?”

He groaned, licked his lips, and patted his lap. You shook your head.

“You have to beg for it.”

Prancing over to him you swayed your body to the hypnotic music accentuating your curves with every move. Lewis’ eyes drank you in as you kept yours on him. Turning your back to him you swayed your ass, bent forward, touched your toes, and peeked at him through your open legs.

“Fuck, that ass.”

“Mmm, you wanna fuck this ass?”

“Do you want me to fuck your ass tonight, princess?”

His heavy hand landed atop your ass cheek making you moan.

“I want you, Lewis.”

“Only me?”

“Only fucking you.”

“Come and prove it.”

You approached him standing over one of his thighs then continued your dance. Lewis’ hand roamed up your leg and thigh to skim over your sex.

“You’re so wet baby.”

For a few moments his fingers played with you, circling your clit then rubbing back and forth until he pinched it between his fingers. You were moaning loudly now and too much in need. You sat on his lap then kissed him. Lewis cupped your breasts through the corset top you wore and sucked in a breath.

“Do you feel how hard I am babygirl?”

You nodded. without any more words you slipped off his lap onto your knees between his legs then undid his pants. Like a confined beast his dick sprang free nearly slapping you in the face.

“Fuck!”

“Mmm baby all this for me?”

“Do you want it all?”

“Every--. You tipped your tongue out and licked him from base to tip. “Single.” Then swirled your tongue around his swollen and leaking head. “Inch.” You then slipped his bulbous head into your mouth and sucked not going easy on the pressure.

“Awwwwww Fuck!”

Lewis’ head lulled back as you sank lower and lower until he was nestled snuggled in your throat.

“Mmmmm.”

“Aaaaaah yes, Y/N. How that dick taste?”

“Better than candy daddy.”

Peeping at him you saw his lips quick into a vicious smile. Before you could ask him what was going through his head, his hand locked your head right where it was as his hips lifted sending every inch he was blessed with down your throat. Relaxing, you focused on not gagging and moaned. Lewis sucked in a breath then panted.

“You suck this dick so well baby. Look at me.”

You did as he asked, locking eyes with him and saw his intent. Relaxing your jaw, you opened as wide as you could hooking your lips over your teeth so there would be no accidents and allowed him to fuck your mouth. With every plunge Lewis hissed and every withdraw he groaned. His thrusts started slow, then sped up until he was near brutally face fucking you. Taking everything he gave you added a few tongue swirls as you nudged forward to meet each of his thrusts. When he hit a high pitch, you knew you had him.

However, before you could go in for the one hit quitter, Lewis pulled himself from your mouth, pulled you up then tossed you onto the table that was in the middle of the room. In seconds he was on you kissing you like his life depended on it. Once you were breathless from his kiss, Lewis’ lips roamed your body bringing his focus to your breasts. His teeth made their mark as he bit them through the leather of your corset and though it wasn’t direct contact your body didn’t seem to care. The reaction was the same.

Your back arched and his lips dipped under your skirt. It didn’t take him long to slip your panties to the side and lazily lick from ass to clit.

 “Fuck!”

Clamping your thighs shut you locked him right where he was. That didn’t stop him though. Lewis easily pried them apart and pressed them back to the table as he attacked your clit with fast licks that nearly sent you shooting into the sky. You were so close.

“Fuck baby. I’m so close.”

Lewis moaned then slurped your flesh. Your thighs instinctively flexed in an attempt to shut but Lewis wasn’t having it. Showcasing his strength, he kept you right where he wanted and pushed you closer to the edge. When you felt him dip his tongue inside of you your belly flipped, muscled bunched and skin prickled with goosebumps as if the room was cold when it was in fact not. It was sweltering with the heat of your shared passion.

“This pussy tastes so good. Whose is it?”

“Yours!”

Again, his lips found your clit and he sucked. Just like that it was over. The pressure inside of you burst through making your thrash across the table. Grabbing his head, you kept his face still as you flicked your hips smearing your pussy across his mouth that greedily slurped, licked and flicked against you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Lewis!”

The table you were on rattled as if an earthquake was passing through when in fact it was just the aftereffects of your release.

“Mmm. My pussy tastes like heaven,” Lewis said as he stood then slapped his dick against your sensitive clit. A breathy gasp was all you could muster.

He pressed forward laying his mighty length over your pubis. It reached to your bellybutton. Lewis circled his hips rubbing his balls against your soaking sex.

“Stop teasing me.”

“Teasing? What do you want precious?”

“You.”

He slapped his dick against your clit again and your back arched.

“Mmm.”

“What-.” Thwack. “Do-.” Thwack. “You-.” Thwack. “Want-.” Thwack.

With every heavy slap of his dick against your clit the more stars you saw. Your body was feeling so greedy that your words failed you, so you rocked your hips against him hoping to coax him to give you what you both wanted.

“Fuck you’re killing me, but I know you’re worse off. Tell me.”

“I want you to fuck me now!”

“How do you want me to fuck you?”

“Hard!”

“Are you sure princess? You won’t be sitting right for a few days.”

“Fuck me until I can’t breathe, fuck me until I can’t think or speak. Fuck me, Lewis!”

 His lips smirked deviously again, and his eyes looked into the mirror behind you. Lewis dipped to your ear, bit it then whispered.

“We have an audience.”

Before his words could register, he rose then flicked his hips forward so forcefully your entire body jerked when he joined you with him.

“Aaaah!”

He didn’t wait. Pulling back, he did it again and again and again. Each time the loud squelch that echoed in the room should have been embarrassing but it wasn’t. You weren’t ashamed of how wet he got you. Lewis continued to thrust into you with brute force nudging that secret spot inside of you that tensed more and more with every touch.

“Fuck, this pussy always swallows me up. So—fucking—greedy!”

He emphasized each word with a back breaking thrust that sent your eyes to the back of your head.

“You’re gonna cum, aren’t you? I can feel it. Cum for me princess. Cum all over this dick!”

On command your body released and clenched around every inch he had buried inside of you.

“Aaaaaah!”

Lewis groaned but never relented. His thrusts sped for a few moments before he pulled out entirely and flipped you onto your stomach. With your ass in the air, Lewis rubbed his dick right where he’d asked if you wanted him to fuck. It was then you grasped his meaning telling you that you wouldn’t be sitting right for a few days. Instead of fear, excitement filled you. Lewis’ fingers dipped inside of you coming away with the evidence of your orgasm then rubbed it on you.

As he prepped you with one then two and finally three fingers you moaned and panted as you got wetter and wetter.

“I can’t wait anymore baby. Fuck me.”

“God, I love you princess.”

“I love you.”

He dipped to your ear again. “Do you know who’s watching?”

“I don’t give a fuck.”

Lewis chuckled then joined your bodies again, slowly, inch by inch until he was wedged so tightly inside of you, that you almost felt like you were going to break apart. His groan was strained, and his grip was tight on your hips.

“Fucking hell,” Lewis gritted out.

He pulled back then thrust forward and you whimpered. Hands down Lewis was the best you’d ever had. You’d found your sexual match in every way and every time you were together it felt like there was no one else in the world but the two of you.

“Ready baby?”

You nodded. He sped his hips and flicked steadily forward making your back arch from the angle. Your hand instantly flew to your clit and that was where it remained. When Lewis had a fast and steady speed his thrusts intensified.

“Oh my god! Oh fuck. Yes baby. Fuck me. Right there. Just like that!”

As his hips sped, so did your fingers and soon both of you were chasing your own releases. Lewis grabbed the back of your neck and lifted your head.

“Look!”

Before you, the glass had become see through and on the other side was Malcom watching every single thing that was happening. The rage and fury in his eyes shone brightly like hot coals. He clenched his jaw so tightly you were sure it would shatter but upon every thrust your vision blurred and all you could focus on was Lewis delivering yet another pounding for the record books of your relationship.

“Fuck yes!”

“What do you want him to know princess?”

“Mmm. I love your fucking dick. You feel so fucking good I wanna scream!”

Lewis jackhammered you and took over the work your fingers were doing.

“Aaah!”

“What—else!”

“It’s yours,” you whispered.

Again, Lewis grabbed the back of your neck lifting your head so you looked at Marcus.

“He can’t hear you. Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours!”

“Whose?”

“Yours daddy! it’s fucking yours. You fuck this pussy so right. Just you!”

“Look at him as you fucking cum for me and only me. Look at him so he can memorize your face, look at him so he knows his fucking place and knows why you’ll never leave me, why I’ll never leave you. It’s you and me till the goddamn end!”

You whined as your body began to shake. Through tear-streaked eyes you looked at Marcus.

“I’m gonna cum!”

“You’re gonna cum who?”

“Dadddddy!”

You screamed and it turned into screech as you lost all control over your body. Lewis continued pounding into you for a few more moments before he also came filling you up like a twinkie.

“Yes, Y/N! Mmm.”

You were delirious and seeing so many stars you were sure you were floating through space right now. Through your delirium you heard Lewis speak.

“She calls me daddy now!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#she calls me daddy now one shot #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x black reader #black fanfiction #f1 fanfic #lewis hamilton blurb #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton fanfic

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Au where adult Danny somehow scores a friends with benefits situation with Red Hood, but without the friends part (idk what its called.)

After a few months with no contact he assumes thier relationship-whatever it was- is over. After the fourth month he starts acting strange. He's turning whole buildings in Amity intangible to get years of accumulated grime off of them, he's deep cleaned his entire underground house and lab twice, he's even flooded the cave like floors with ectoplasm all on some strange compulsion. He really couldn't control himself. His friends suggested he might be trying to instinctively seduce RH or something by making his "territory" nicer

Danny bought into this theory up until a fight with the Box Ghost. Well, less of a fight and more of Danny chasing him and threatening him with soup time. It was when Dannys speed started flagging and Danny complaining about his lack of stamina lately that BG paused and excitedly announced, "OH ancients, you're pregnant! That's so great!" In front of everyone. People below that were watching the fight gasped or started texting or whatever. He knew at least one person was filming this. They always recorded his fights.

Phantom just floated there stunned as the ghost prattled on about how he and the Lunch Lady have been trying for a while (ew?!?!) but ghosts were naturally infertile so it was hard. Danny stopped listening and was having a panic attack while in mid air. How did this happen?! He was a guy! How long ago-? The only person he slept with was Red Hood! Oh ancients! His child's other parent was a crime lord that delivered a bag with actual severed heads to someone. He and Hood don't even know each other! Not really. They never met outside RH texting him for a night of fun. Thats all it was! All he really knew about him was that he was an undead antihero who was nice to children and was a widely feared crime lord and was involved in the drug trade. Crap.

Phantom whipped out his burner phone that he used almost exclusively for RH and blasted it apart, startling Boxy out of his rambling. RH didn't know about Phantom or about Danny. He didn't give him his real name and even if he did it wouldn't have mattered because he's not from that dimension anyway. RH never had to find out about this.

Too bad Danny is the unluckiest person (half)alive.

#fanfiction prompts #danny phantom #dp x dc #prompts #danny fenton #danny fenton x jason todd #jason isnt out of the closet #why #he doesnt need a reason #jason todd #red hood #danny doesnt know who red hood is under that mask either #tw: pregnancy #tw: suprise pregnancy #tw: unexpected pregnancy #tw: mpreg #mpreg #fwb au #kinda #i think its called bootycalls #but my ace self isnt sure and im not going to google it #phantoms pregnancy is all over the rumors mill in a flash #hehe flash #when jason finds out hes going to freak #danny is laying low #interdimensional cellphones ftw #tw: mentions of sex #tw: gore #cw: gore

[annalu86]

A second go at a first date.

Tim is not against public displays of affection. Within reason.

He actively likes holding hands with women he is in a relationship with.

He’s been known to put his hand on a lower back, or an arm round a shoulder

And maybe even a quick hug.

He likes to think it was because he was a gentleman, he would tell his partners their relationship was no one else’s business but he was beginning to believe that maybe he’d never been in a relationship where he just couldn’t keep his hands off the other person before…

He has the feeling Lucy is really going to answer this question for him.

Of course in this moment he’s not thinking any of this, he’s not thinking at all. Sitting as close to Lucy as possible in these uncomfortable metal chairs, food forgotten in front of them.

One hand on her knee, the other in her hair. The kiss had built and built, the idea that the other food truck patrons or passers by might see them had not crossed his mind.

The minute she had told him, in that fancy restaurant during their disastrous first ‘first date’, that she wanted them to have their first “real” kiss he had thought about how much he wanted to finally be the one to take control.

The first peck, back in her apartment all those months ago, an embarrassment he needed to make up for. Lucy had followed that very first kiss up with 2 of the most heart racing, knee buckling kisses Tim had ever experienced. He had something to prove.

Not that he was competitive or anything but, he had to at least level the playing field.

It was Lucy who pulled back first, out of breath, flushed cheeks and red lips. She placed her hands on his chest as he reflexively leaned forward to chase another kiss.

“Let me breathe” she giggled slightly and he worked to contain the slightly smug grin that threatened to take over his face

“Sure thing” he leaned back in his chair not taking his eyes off her. He picked at his food as she took a deep drink from her can.

For several minutes they both sat in silence, gazes soft, gentle smiles.

Lucy starts to lean forward in her seat and Tim forces himself to remain still, to focus on the way her hair falls forward over her shoulders. How her smile quirks up on one side as she watches his reaction intently. Her hand reaches up and round to the back of his neck and his eyes close, briefly, at the light touch she leaves on his skin.

Goose bumps erupt on his skin as she trails her finger tips down his neck and along his collar bone. She pauses, momentarily.

“Lucy” it comes out as a whisper when her finger tighten around the collar of his shirt and she draws him firmly to her.

Tim is the first to pull away this time, he feels like he’s losing a battle of wills. Against his own hands. Touching Lucy is a heady mixture of electrifying and familiar. New, but also as it had always been. He knows how her soft face will fit in his hand because he knows every inch of her face as well as he knows his own.

But her words ring in his ears. They shouldn’t rush just because they know each other so well.

So with super human strength he sits back and tries to string together a sentence.

“Angela is going to be insufferable” he rolled his eyes but his smile remained.

“You’re going to tell her?” Lucy didn’t sound nervous but he wanted to reassure her that he wasn’t going to be telling anyone until she was ready.

“Honestly I don’t think I’m going to have to. Detective Lopez will work it out in minutes” then in a moment of bravery “she’s been on at me about us” he says gesturing between them “for some time”

Lucy’s mouth hangs open

“Us?” She stutters “for sometime?!” Her mouth opens and closes like a fish and Tim can’t help but grin “Tim!” She swats at his shoulder. “Explain!”

“She may have worked out that I had feelings for you, maybe even before I was sure” Tim could feel the heat in his cheeks and new a blush was creeping over his face. “She asked some questions, made me ask a few more of myself”

“When?” Was all she asked her eyes locked on his.

“After we kissed, the first time in your apartment” Lucy’s eyes shot wide open “I… I was… confused” he stuttered “I wasn’t expecting to feel what I felt. Does that make sense?”

“Absolutely” she nodded “I feel like things had been a little…” she paused “fuzzy? Before. But after?” She swallowed hard “I thought about that kiss more than I probably should have.” Her gaze dropped to her lap “dreamt about it more than I should have”

Tim felt his heart hammer in his chest at her confession. No words formed, he just stared at her as she fiddled nervously with the hem of her shirt.

Slowly, he reached his hand out. Sliding his fingers along her jaw until her face was resting in his large hand, he lifted her face towards his and placed a single gentle kiss to her lips. As quick as the first, in her apartment but with all the feelings, all the meaning neither of them had been free to express at the time.

“Ok.” Tim said sitting back again “so how many grandchildren are you thinking exactly”

Lucy’s hearty laugh echoed out into the night “Tim!” He was beginning to think her love language was whacking him on the shoulder

“Well I’m just saying, we might not want to take it too slow or…” and just like that they were back to their gentle teasing.

They finally finished their food and arranged that their next date would see Tim cooking for her at his place and after 3 failed attempts at saying goodnight at their cars, that just saw them out of breath and Lucy with wild hair, Tim was finally in his truck on his way home.

He would see her again in the morning and he new just the thought would send him off to a blissful sleep and just maybe he’d have a few dreams of his own.

#chenford #chenford fanfic #lucy chen #tim bradford #the rookie #a second go at a first date

[metalheadmickey]

Hi so straight lan Gallagher (hear me out pls) dating mandy milkovich but fall for her brother Mickey and they are secretly fucking for months before anyone finds out

Either-

falls for him overtime

They fight a lot because Mickey doesn't like lan being with his sister and after a fight they kiss

Or they have been secretly seeing each other from the start but hiding it

Would like mickey to be openly gay as usually he is the one in the closet and ian is out so why not the other way round.

P.s I sent this to you and one other person as you and the other person as you are both my favourite writers (just wanted to share my idea 💕)

hey anon! i know you sent this like a week ago, i hope you can forgive me but i was on a trip! i'm back now! so hello!

The idea of out-and-proud mickey while Ian is unsure or just thinks he's straight sure is an interesting one. Especially when you imagine what could be Ian's oh no oh fuck oh shit moment. I'm picturing an au/canon divergent situation where they meet when they're a bit older.

I like the idea of Ian dating Mandy because that's what he thinks he's supposed to do when you meet a hot, cool, tough girl from the same neighborhood as you who seems to get you. She's got these piercing blue eyes that he's hypnotically drawn to. She makes him laugh. She doesn't judge him. They like the same things. It just makes sense.

It's still new and he's trying to take it slow with her. He's never been very good with girls, and sex has always been awkward. He really likes her and he doesn't want to fuck this up. And then he meets her brother.

He stops by to pick her up from her apartment one night, and when she opens the door there's this guy passing by behind her. Mandy makes him come say hi, don't be rude, asshole, and he does. She introduces him - Mickey - as her brother who's staying with her for a couple of days while some work's done on his apartment, and goes to grab her purse. And Ian's frozen to the spot, feeling sort of like he's been struck by lightning.

Mickey looks him up and down, eyebrow raised, appraising, while Ian awkwardly introduces himself. He can't get away fast enough, but when he and Mandy leave for their date he finds himself having to resist turning back to see if Mickey's watching them leave. Watching him leave.

He asks Mandy about Mickey while they're out. He's a year older. He acts like an asshole sometimes but he's a good brother. She worries about him sometimes. He hasn't had a boyfriend in a while. Ian feels the color drain from his face the more she elaborates on that.

Mickey's hanging around when they get back. Mandy invites Ian in. Not to, you know. Not while my brother's here. Just for a drink or something. He should say no, but. Well.

Mickey's brash and funny. And he's gorgeous. Same hypnotizing blue eyes as Mandy. Same dark hair. Same tough attitude. Just different. Different swagger, different presence, different demeanor. And Ian swears that when Mandy's not looking, Mickey's raking his eyes up and down him like he wants to eat him alive.

Ian doesn't know how Mickey got his number, but he wakes up a few mornings later with a text from him, sent in the middle of the night. It makes his heart pound and his palms sweat, the idea of Mickey thinking of him and wanting to talk to him. He's been thinking of him, too. He can't stop thinking about his eyes and his lips and the way he was looking at him, no matter how much he tries to block it out. He shouldn't engage him, but he does. He texts him back. He doesn't shut it down when Mickey flirts with him. He doesn't do it back, really, but he likes it. Fuck, he likes it so much and he doesn't know what the fuck to do.

They text for a few days. Ian lets Mickey keep flirting with him. He should say no when he asks if he wants to meet up. This isn't something he should be chasing, these are feelings that should be locked away and left unexamined so he can keep enjoying his time with his new girlfriend. He doesn't need a complication like Mickey.

He has no idea how he ends up at the bar, sitting next to Mickey with their knees pressed together, like he's got him under some kind of spell that has him acting against his own better judgment. He has no idea how he got here, with his back against the wall in the alley out back while Mickey's pressed against his front, hands all over him, breath against his neck, harder than he's ever been in his life, and Mickey's dropping to his knees, and then. And then.

It's insane. How has he never felt this? What the fuck is this?

It's what Mickey says after that fucks him up the most, though.

Clocked you the minute I met you, Gallagher. The fuck are you doing with my sister, man?

Ian can do nothing but stammer in his confusion. Clocked him? He doesn't know what to do with that. Mickey drops it, and then he walks him home.

Mickey keeps texting him. He flirts with him in ways that make him blush, that give him butterflies, that make him hard, that make him want him so bad. Ian should stop. He wants to stop. He's having a hard enough time looking Mandy in the eye now, but. He flirts back.

He fucks Mickey, and it's like a tidal wave crashing over him. Nothing has never been this good. He has to break up with Mandy, he knows, but he does the unthinkable and he fucks her, too. He doesn't know why, like maybe it was just for confirmation or something. To prove something to himself. And now he knows. As much as he's grown to love Mandy, it's not like that. It's just not the same, he knows he wants to be with Mickey. But he's her fucking brother, and she likes Ian so much, and how can he be with Mickey without breaking her heart?

Meanwhile he'd like to grapple with and come to terms with this revelation about himself as some things click into place and start making sense, but he barely has time to unpack all that while he has these two beautiful people who want him and care about him who he feels like he has to choose between, and it fucking sucks.

Ian drags it out for like two months, like a fucking idiot, fucking Mickey because he can't stop, fucking Mandy because he feels like he has to. Mandy has no idea. Mickey's understanding of his predicament, until he's sick of it and wants him all to himself. Besides, he's not too thrilled about the idea of someone two-timing his sister. When Ian points out that Mickey's the other woman, he shuts down.

Eventually he does tell Mandy, though.

I'd like to imagine that they stay friends, because it makes me sad to picture any universe where Ian and Mandy aren't best friends. But I don't know how this one ends. When he finally leaves Mandy so he can properly be with Mickey, is the betrayal too much for her to be able to forgive either of them? Does it just take time? She and Ian hadn't been together very long, but still, her boyfriend and her brother were fucking. So what happens?

#THE DRAMA #i can't believe how carried away i got with this #asks #gallavich #ian & mandy

[panickingpansexuality]

Elliot x GN! Reader

I can't leave you

Mentions of Divorce.

"Elliot…I don't think I can marry you."

Elliot nearly dropped his coffee, the farmer had just come in to visit and hand them a gift (the very safe coffee he was going to drink), Elliot looked at the farmer, their face was downward and their eyes looked watery.

"Why not darling?" Elliot said in a gentle voice.

"I-I don't have anything nice to wear and I want this day to be absolutely perfect for you because you deserve a beautiful wedding and if.." 

Their voice was getting faster and the tears started to crawl down their face, Elliot rushed forward taking their hands in his and placing his forehead with theirs.

The gestures paused the anxiety long enough for Elliot to speak.

"Our wedding," Elliot began, "Will be perfect, Robin has insisted on walking you down the aisle in place of Lewis, I'll be waiting for you whether you come in a paper sack or the biggest dress you can find."

(Y/n) continued to cry, Elliot gently used his right hand to lift up their face, he leaned forward and kissed away every tear. 

"Our wedding." He said to them, "is going to be the most beautiful and perfect wedding not because of what we're gonna wear or how the weather will be, but because I'm going to marry the person of my dreams."

(Y/n) wrapped their arms around Elliot tightly, crying into his chest.

"I love you." (Y/n) cried, "I swear I want to marry you."

"I know," Elliot said softly, "I love you too."

"So what's really going on?" He asked wrapping his arms around his soon to be spouse.

"I want to be good enough so you don't leave.." 

The words were so quiet that Elliot almost didn't catch them, but they broke his heart all the same

"Oh my dearest," Elliot said, he pulled away from the embrace just enough so that (y/n) would look at him.

"Not even death could make me leave you." 

With that he leaned down and kissed (y/n) so fiercely and so full of love that every doubt seemed to wash away in a second.

"I love you." Elliot whispered when they broke apart. "I will always love you," no matter what.

The memory fizzed out as Elliot looked at the divorce papers in his hands, (y/n) had yet to sign them but his signature was right on the dotted line. He couldn't do this, not to them, not to himself. He loved the farmer, his farmer.

"Elliot?" A voice called from the doorway.

Elliot threw the papers in his desk, he'd dispose of them later.

"Hey," he called out, placing his glasses on the desk, he stood to greet his partner.

"What did Harvey say?"

There was hesitance, and Elliot felt his entire body freeze.

"It's nothing too bad..but he wants to send me to a specialist in the city."

"When?" He asked. 

"Next week…"

Elliot cursed under his breath, next week was his book tour.

"I'll be ok." (Y/n) said, for a moment it looked like they wanted to reach out to him, grab his hand, kiss his cheek, something, anything.

They had been distant from each other the last few months, like their spark had just died out, no fighting just distance, and the eerie quiet that slowly suffocated their relationship and it made sure both of them felt it.

"Can.." they began to speak. "Can I cook for you tonight?"

"Yes." Elliot said without hesitation.

"Uhm cool..so what would you like? I mean I'm your chef after all, your wish is my command."

Elliot smiled and he could tell it did something to the farmers heart.

"Anything you want dearest."

"So..lobster?"

Elliot threw his head back and groaned.

"Mix. Van Dyke, you're trying to seduce me."

"Oh no Mr. Van Dyke," (y/n) said sweetly, Elliot felt his heart quicken, carefully they walked over to him like a cat watching it's prey, their voice turning a little more seductive as they spoke:

"because if I was trying to seduce you," their hand crawled up his chest, their mouth inches from his.

"I'd have you in bed by now."

They gave Elliot a quick kiss before they giggled and went to go make dinner. 

Elliot laughed chasing after them.

"My darling spouse this isn't over."

That night Elliot and (y/n) sat by the fire, Elliot and (y/n) both reading a book, (y/n) was laying on top of Elliot nestled between his arm and the inner part of the couch.

"Can you go get me my red folder in my desk drawer?" Elliot asked. 

(Y/n) smiled and looked up at him.

"Feeling inspired?"

Elliot chuckled and kissed the top of their head.

"Oh no dear I've never heard of the word before."

(Y/n) rolled their eyes and walked over to the desk in their bedroom.

Then Elliot remembered the papers, he got up and ran to the bedroom just as (y/n) took out the divorce papers, he saw their heart breaking in front of him.

Part 2

#stardew elliott #stardew fanfiction #stardew farmer #stardew valley #elliot x farmer #elliot x reader #elliot stardew valley #elliot x reader stardew valley #elliot stardew #sdv elliot #sdv elliot x farmer #sdv elliott #stardew valley elliot #stardew valley elliott #sdv fanfic #sdv #sdv angst #angst #cliffhanger #statdew valley

[darlingpwease]

GOOD FOR HUMAN!

cw unhealthy behaviour, xenophilia, mind break, noncon -> dubcon, rough sex, outdoor sex, breeding / unprotected sex, mild blood play, hyperstimulation (g.), penetration giving

a little bit about yuuta just a little bit I beg I'm physically ill for almost a week without him

Yuuta who is engaged in hunting creatures for the first time. he does this not because he dreamed or even had abilities — he is very pathetic and insignificant, in his opinion, and all this hunting is too pointless and even dangerous for him, but they tell that it is "in his blood" and Yuuta has nothing with which he could return; even if a disgusting taste remains in his mouth when he is given a weapon for self-defense and instructed for the last time, after several months of training and preparation, because there are too few volunteers — not so many people can at least potentially get along with domesticated beasts — and it is urgent to reduce the number of creatures before there are too many of them.

when Yuuta meets you,

his new and first partner,

a predatory beast, who, however, should not harm him, — obedience is in your head, but not in your blood, — then he does not want to look scared or pathetic, seeing your confident figure or sharp teeth, but at the same time he is enough pathetic to struggle for some time with the desire to show you that he does not want to fight for dominance if it is so important to you. it doesn't matter to you, however — being a partner in the chase, you already know that you can playfully tear his neck, these teeth are designed for things denser than his delicate skin, and Yuuta thinks that everything is fine when you peacefully nod at the performance, behaving so calmly.

he has heard that some beasts never become humanized, attacking their partners and even tearing them apart, yielding to the call of blood, — but when he looks at you, his heart beats calmer; you have every chance to become a breeding partner for some other calm beast and become an ancestor for future domesticated animals. he is warned that you can become wild, even if you are so calm and quiet, — and Yuuta listens, but when you gently bend back, you look so peaceful that he is sure that this will not happen to him. you have claws instead of nails, but Yuuta is calm when you put hand on his skin in an effort to calm, hearing him breathing heavily and nervously, and Yuuta is grateful and blessed.

and even the first hunts — the most dangerous and nervous for partners, the greatest number of injuries and blood due to low knowledge of each other — go well. you listen and catch, kill and bring, while Yuuta shoots and covers, watching your condition. you take care of him, trying not to get too carried away with blood or hunting, while Yuuta gently wipes you and takes care of your wounds and condition, not letting you do all the work, furiously training in spare time with other human hunters, — and you are grateful to him.

Yuuta tries, really tries, trying to learn how to use a sword or a knife so that you are more confident in his safety, and you gently purr in a tiny "safe house", hugging Yuuta in a half-sleep, and even the smell of blood does not seem so unpleasant if it's from you — maybe he should communicate more with people, spending time with you is bad for him, but you feel so good that he is sure he will die if tries to get out.

you're just so good.

he immediately realizes that you have been away from him for too long, that you have not been back for too long, it is unacceptable for your usual intimacy, and his skin itches from too much vulnerability without you nearby, — but even when he tries to call you, you do not respond. Yuuta knows that sometimes this happens — get too carried away or are busy with a long hunt — but this is not about you. you always come back to him and warn if you are not soon, but to leave before his awakening and not come to the call is not about you, you are not like that.

to leave him is equivalent to "leaving him without protection", and Yuuta knows that this is not about you, you protect him, always protect him as your precious partner, gentle and fragile, even if you know that he can hunt himself without the need for a "hunting dog". but you are still there, you still protect, you still hunt, growling so that he does not stick out unnecessarily and that he is not a burden, he just protects your back, and his duty is to be hidden and helping, even when he always starts to hit the target and stops trembling from the sight of any blood — he knows what you are doing when come back not in your blood, it would be stupid not to use fresh prey in any way.

and Yuuta is afraid that you have become someone's prey.

he finds you far away from the house, bleeding, lying on the ground, pressed against a tree, as if sleeping, if you didn't breathe so deeply and heavily, and he can't help but rush to you, not caring about the silence, forcibly restraining himself from cries of anxiety and joy.

he stopped only when you raise your face, showing a wet face and frightening-looking pupils, making it clear that all this blood is not your blood, and that you are more than fine — and the world turns upside down when you stick his face into the ground, growling low, digging sharp claws into exposed skin, ignoring him screams, tearing his clothes and pressing hand firmly down while holding his hips high enough for your convenience.

a couple of minutes is enough for him to understand what you want to do, but you react to attempts to get out with an animal growl, scratching the skin, reminding which of the two of you is stronger and more dangerous, being obedient is in his own interests, — and Yuuta exhales long when you force him to bend back down even more, resting his cheek on the ground, ignoring his rapid breathing and red wet cheeks from shame and fear.

everything gets a little better when you purr, putting your chest on his back, caressing him and soothing with animal sounds, without feeling like he is trying to fight back or convince you to stop, like your good pretty mate, he will carry such good cubs for you, and Yuuta whines when you stretch him for the first time, making him so full, without ceasing to purr even when he breathes fitfully and whispers that it's too much, afraid that someone will hear how you roughly fucking him deep in the forest where no one steps except animals and experienced hunters.

it's not the season, and he knows that there are no other people here besides him and that no one will look for him for another couple of weeks or even a month, he's an experienced hunter, he's on such good terms with you, — especially when you breed him on all fours, covered in blood and dirt, humiliatingly taking him from behind like another beast, and his cheeks burn too much from thinking about it. surely it's blood, blood makes beasts go crazy, but what makes his mind become a sticky haze is definitely not blood when you thrust inside again and again, reacting to his whining and clumsily restrained cries of delight with a growl and a purr, and Yuuta can recognize arrogant hints in this, but it's too good, too good for him that even if you stopped now, he would start pushing back himself,

and he needs to resist, he behaves incorrectly, but can only stick out tongue during orgasm, trembling from the stimulation and your thrusts; you are still too far away, unlike him, who is ready to cum again soon, trying to repeat your purring when you bite his skin with sharp teeth, so weak and defenseless compared to you, but just like you, desperately greedily fucking in a dirty dangerous forest and whining pleas for more, — even when you are sure that his cheek will hurt as well as his body when you are done fucking his body stupid, scratching his body and biting until he's dangerously close to starting to bleed and letting you lick it all off his trembling sensitive body.

even if he's too tight, his legs spread out charmingly when you're looking for more, not asking if you can get more, but taking it away, using your delightful partner for the intended purpose, knowing how weak and fit he is just to fuck him until he passes out just to continue on; in the end, you just give him what he deserves, even if it means filling him up until he can't even whine about how sensitive and full he is, trembling at the slightest touch, not reacting even when you hear other people's rustles nearby, curious about his incoherent loud screams and pleas.

it will be even better if everyone finds out whose he is and how much he loves to be fucked stupidly on the ground.

#.spicy♡ #🥮 — jujutsu kaisen #✉.yuuta okkotsu #🧸.xenophilia #🧸.noncon #🧸.dubcon #🧸.rough sex #🧸.breeding #🧸.blood play #🧸.hyperstimulation #cw dark content #dom reader #top reader

[grapejuicestyless]

Sick Of The Chase

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: Y/n is what she considers a “killer.” Her relationships constantly falling apart in the same pattern, she can’t help but believe her failures are because of her. All she needed was one person to break that cycle. Based off Killer by Phoebe Bridgers.

Sometimes I think I’m a killer. I scared you in your house. I even scare myself sometimes when I’m talking, rambling on your couch. But there’s nothing I can do. This is who I am, this is who I’m destined to be. The woman with a twisted mind and an even darker dating history.

A bloody trail of broken hearts, inconsolable nights spent chasing after the next loved one who had enough and got the fuck out.

And there’s nothing I can do.

It all started the same. An innocent man and an overly believing woman crossing paths by some kind of fate. The gravity would pull us together and we’d spend the next few moments of our lives together.

We would vow to see each other again, and we would. And the next months would be spent between the sheets with lips pressing to our cheeks and lips sore from our sorry smiles.

And before the clock would strike midnight, around the year long mark achievement that marked our love, it would become too much every time. Our abilities to work things out not yet prepared for the intense fights we would have.

The drifting was irreparable as all that was left to do was sit there idly waiting for the final blow that would break the camels back.

I would watch them leave just as it began. Some fate pulling us apart as it was always meant to be. And the proclaimed love of my life would walk out just as quickly as he would enter.

How stupid I was to have fallen into the trap of my own feelings yet again. How cruel of a trick I had played on myself for believing this could be different. That he would stay.

Harry entered my life just past the new year, confetti stuck in his hair and the rose spread across my cheeks from the warmth the alcohol transferred into my blood. His curls were lively, even when matted in sweat from dancing all night.

He stayed to pick up the aftermath, as did I. The quiet enveloped us, soft breathing and footsteps uneven and heavy. How funny it was how quickly history is ready to repeat itself as soon as you forget why you were so sad.

Ever the beautiful fool, I became hooked. The sickness that came from the chase buried underneath the desperation for blood. The undying want for his arms to hold me in the coldest nights and for his laughter to ring in my ears in the most humid rain storms.

We just fit. We shared the same interests, but we’re different enough to be able to share the enjoyment of teaching each other new hobbies and skills. Everything in my life became Harry coded.

From the apron hung on the door just for him when we’d bake to the strawberry shaped bowl on my counter top that reminded me of his love for summer. I had truly drowned in my infatuation for him.

But my love and my effort was never enough, in the end. And right around that December mark, just before the year anniversary, I watched as the fights that ceased to exist became a frequent part of our routine. I watched as his happiness turned into anger and mine into a deep rooted depression I couldn’t run from.

I couldn’t sleep next to him, some nights. Even as harmless as he was. The feeling of his arms around me only reminded me of our bitter words and unresolved arguments. The couch became my sanctuary. A place where sobbing seemed easier to do, and breathing was slightly clearer.

We progressed, sick but too ashamed to admit it for weeks. Apologies lingering only to be shattered within the next few hours as the next storm rolled in.

Yet, the killer that I was, the sad, mellow woman I became in every relationship still wasn’t enough to tame the fire that was him.

I sat there, sick and tired. My mind was barely there. A machine might as well have been keeping me alive, the way I had been feeling.

The stress came through my fingers. Knuckles white from pulling out the ends in a desire to make it stop. The fragile ending of a beautiful romance too much to think about.

But Harry, even in our most difficult time, found a way to surprise me. He kissed my rotting head, watching as my feet curled under my bottom and I tried to sink into the cushions, he refused to pull the plug. He let the wire twist, watched the rope burn slowly until only a strand held it together.

He refused to walk out and leave what we had built behind. That harsh question of, what was left to do for us, became answered in that resilience he showed.

In our darkest hour, in the softest whisper he promised me, “I know there’s something waiting for us.”

The road seemed narrow, walls closing in around us but he would hold them apart with all his strength until we figured it out. The cycle breaking bit by bit. With his promise to not abandon what we had, I grew the strength to give the same back to him.

There is something waiting for us.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles angst

[gaystay]

I Don't Believe You- Aomine

Genre: angst

Warnings: none

Your day had been going just fine until you decided to take a walk. It was a beautiful day, with snow lightly coating the ground as you strolled through the park. You watched several couples walk by, hand in hand. Everything was serene and peaceful, totally normal for a winter's day. Until one couple caught your eye. They weren't holding hands, but rather they chased each other around, laughing and throwing snowballs. The girl was tall and curvy, her skin flushed and rosy. The boy, however, was strongly built with a tanned face. What stuck out most about him was his hair, though, it was an odd shade of blue, almost navy. It looked awfully familiar, too familiar even. There was no doubt about it, that was your boyfriend playing in the snow with another girl. 

Your eyes began to well up as the pair came ever closer, but your boyfriend had yet to notice you. You sniffed, trying to keep the tears from running down your cheeks, but you couldn't stop your throat closing up. They ran past you, the girl's laugh ringing like bells in your ears, neither of them seeing you standing there. You were supposed to see your boyfriend that night at his house. It was your 6 month anniversary, and he was with somebody else. You couldn't stop the tears now, and as they began to overflow, you turned your back and ran home, praying nobody would look at you. 

-A few hours later-

You rang the doorbell. Your eyes were dry, if still red, and you held your head up high as you waited for your boyfriend to let you in. A moment later, you heard the sounds of bolts turning, and the door swung open. Warmth flooded out from the apartment, and you were greeted by your grinning boyfriend. His eyes scrunched up as his smile widened, and he leaned forward to envelope you in a bear hug. 

''Y/N! Happy Anniversary baby!'' He pulled away, too caught up to notice that you hadn't hugged him back. He stepped back, letting you see into his apartment. ''Come in, come in!'' You just stood there, looking at him. His smile slowly fell away. ''Babe? Is something wrong?''

''Is something wrong? I'll say there is, Daiki! I saw you with her! I saw you with that other girl today!''

''Other girl, what-''

''Oh don't you deny it Daiki! I just wanted to talk a walk in the park, but I guess you had the same idea, huh? You wanted to hang out with your side chick? Is it because she's bigger than I am? Because she's curvier? I know what you like in a woman, Daiki, am I just not good enough for you?'' Your words became slurred as the closing in your throat returned, tears threatening to spill again. ''Was I never good enough for you?'' Aomine took a step back, totally flabbergasted. 

''Baby no! I never cheated on you! She's not like that!''

''Oh she's not like that? Who is she, Daiki? You always tell me when you plan on hanging out with other girls, why didn't you tell me about her? What did you want to hide from me, huh?'' Tears were flowing freely now, your words mangled between gasps for air. Aomine had to lean against the doorframe for support, his own breaths coming too fast and his eyes starting to glisten.

''She's just a friend, baby!'' You scoffed at him, preventing him from continuing. 

''Just a friend? You tell me about all your friends, Daiki. Tell me the truth!'' 

''But- but it is! It is the truth, I swear!'' He was having a hard time getting the words out. A single tear traced down his cheek as he gazed at you pleadingly. ''Please, baby, you gotta trust me! She was just-'' 

''I'm sorry Daiki,'' You sobbed. ''But I don't believe you! I can't believe you anymore!'' You backed away slowly as his eyes widened. ''We need to break up Daiki, I just can't do this.''

''But-''

''Bye Daiki.'' You spun around and fled, ignoring his cries after you as you pounded down the stairs and out onto the street. You ran all the way home, your tears keeping you company, reminding you that you weren't good enough. That you never would've been able to keep a man like Aomine anyway. You were never good enough for him.

Aomine slowly closed the door. He rested his back against it, staring up at the ceiling. Tears began to flow harder as he gasped for air. He sank down to the floor, his body quickly become racked by sobs that shook him to the bone. He crumpled, burying his face in his hands as he tried to stop the tears that overwhelmed and blinded him. After several minutes of wretched sobbing, he worked his phone out of his pocket and dialed, hands shaking as he put it up to his ear. The ringing stopped almost instantly.

''Daiki! How did it go? Did she like the anniversary surprise we prepared for her?'' The tinkling, bell-like laugh rang sweetly in his ears. He hiccuped, trying to fight back the tears enough to speak. At last, Aomine choked out,

''She- she left me-''

part 2 anyone?

#knb fanfic #knb angst #aomine fanfic #aomine daiki #aomine angst #aomine x reader #anime fanfic #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu angst #sports anime #kuroko no basket #kurokos basketball #kuroko no basuke #daiki aomine #anime angst

[sequinsmile-x]

This is Our Place, We Make The Rules - Chapter 8 - All Nighter

A collection of non-sequential mini-fics and one-shots of Hotchniss and their life at home.

Chapter 8 - All Nighter

-x-

Hi friends,

My drive from my parents house to my place took 9 hours (twice as long as it should) today, and thinking of Hotchniss related fluff is the only thing that stopped me from losing my mind haha

So, this little mini-fic is born out of letting my mind wonder in standstill traffic <3 hope you enjoy, and please let me know what you think!

-x-

Warnings: Insomnia, pregnancy

Words: 1.4k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

He couldn’t sleep. 

He’d struggled with insomnia throughout his life, the inability to sleep something that had haunted him for as long as he could remember. When he was young it was born out of his fear of his father, unable to drift off when he knew his dad had been drinking. His violence was a shadow throughout his childhood home, and the father he could have been if he’d made different choices a ghost in every corner. 

By the time Aaron was an adult, he was used to functioning on less sleep than most people, which ended up being a helpful skill when it came to his chosen career. There were still times when he didn’t sleep at all, when a particular case would steal his ability to switch off leaving him lying next to Haley, listening to her breathing until the sun rose.

It only got worse after she died. Sleep and rest felt like luxuries he no longer deserved, and he couldn’t sleep even when he tried. Jack had slept in his bed with him for months, something both of them had drawn comfort from, and he laid there and listened to his son breathe much like he once had with Haley. In the end, it was Jack who had asked to sleep in his own bed, claiming he wanted to be brave ‘just like daddy.’

Aaron wished he felt brave, wished he could be the man his son thought he was, and that was exactly what had originally spurred him on to ask Emily out, to kiss her on the doorstep of her old apartment. 

He was brave, and it had brought him everything he had ever wanted and more. 

He smiles as he looks at his wife, able to pick out her features even in the dark of their bedroom. She was fast asleep and curled around his side, her head and hand on his chest. Her mouth was slightly open and there was a small patch of drool on his t-shirt, something he knew would embarrass her if she woke up and realised what had happened. She wasn’t a stranger to insomnia herself, and they had a long-standing agreement that if it got too bad they’d wake each other up, figure out which demon was keeping them awake and chase them away together. Even if he wanted to wake her up right now, he wouldn’t because she needed the rest. 

And he was sure there was some law somewhere about waking up your pregnant wife. 

She was only 7 weeks along and she was exhausted. She was tired all the time, which had more than once in the last few weeks led to her falling asleep on the jet. He knew she found it embarrassing, especially since they were keeping the pregnancy to themselves for now, but she always joked it was better, and easier to explain, than throwing up everywhere. 

He tugs her closer and he kisses the top of her head, breathing in deeply in the hope that he’ll overwhelm his senses with her, that he’ll somehow trick his brain into letting him sleep, that Emily simply being asleep on top of him would let him push past whatever was keeping him awake. 

He isn’t sure how much longer he lays there, but he eventually gives up, his frustration at the fact sleep was evading him overriding his desire to just lay there any longer. He’s careful as he slips out from under Emily and smiles when she doesn’t even flinch as he settles her on the mattress. He pulls the covers up, taking the time to tuck them around her in a way that would make her scowl at him if she was awake, and leans in to kiss her forehead. 

“Love you, sweetheart,” he whispers before he kisses her forehead again. 

He’s careful as he walks out of their bedroom, purposely avoiding floorboards he knew creaked, and gently closes the door behind him. He checks in on Jack as he walks past his room, taking the time to tuck him back in, his covers always inexplicably screwed up at the end of the bed, and kissing him on the forehead too before he heads down to the home office. 

Time drags on as he does paperwork. He rubs his eyes as he reads and re-reads the same documents, the information not quite filtering through to his brain as quickly as it usually would. He’s just about to make a coffee, give up on the pretence of getting any sleep at all that night, when the door to the office is pushed open. He looks up and smiles as Emily walks in, her hair and pyjamas rumbled, a bleary look in her eyes that tells him she has not been awake long at all.

“I thought I’d find you here,” she mumbles, blinking against the bright light in the room. 

“Sorry, baby,” he says, placing his paperwork down and pushing his chair slightly back as she walks towards him, “Did I wake you up?”

She shakes her head at him as she climbs into his lap, her side against his chest and her head against his neck. He wraps his arms around her to secure her in place and he kisses her temple. 

“No,” she says around a yawn as she places her hand on his wrist, “I woke up because I needed to pee, your damn kid is a pain in the ass already,” she jokes, her smile wide and sleepy as she looks up at him, “When you weren’t there I thought I’d come check on you,” she runs her thumb back and forth on his arm, feeling the soft hair there, the contrast of it and the strong muscles that rippled under his skin one of her favourite things, “You couldn’t sleep?”

He smiles and shakes his head, “No, I couldn’t.”

She furrows her brow, “You should have woken me up, honey,” she says, reaching up and running her fingers through his hair, making a point of scratching at his scalp. 

He clears his throat to suppress a smile, well aware if he even tried to explain that she’d been sleeping so deeply she’d drooled on him that he’d be in trouble, “You need your sleep, Em,” he says, stamping a kiss against her lips, “I think it’s frowned upon to wake up your sleeping, pregnant wife,” he says, kissing her again before he pulls back to look at her, “I think I’d lose all my ‘best husband’ awards.” 

She hums and presses her lips together to stop her smile, his dry sense of humour the way he could always make her laugh, something she had never seen coming when she first met him. 

“I’d appeal the decision for you,” she says, her expression turning serious again, “Do you know why you can’t sleep?”

He shakes his head, “Just one of those nights, I guess.” 

She smiles knowingly and rests her head on his shoulder, “Can I help?”

He kisses the side of her head, holding her even closer, “You always do.” 

She rolls her eyes at him, at the ridiculous cheesy things he always said that she insisted she didn’t like but not-so-secretly loves, “If we’re awake,” she says, leaning back to look at him, “We may as well go lay on the couch and watch a movie or something.” 

He frowns, “Sweetheart, you can go back to bed, I’m-”

She stands up and offers him her hand, cutting him off before he can refuse her company, “If you can’t wake up your pregnant wife, you can’t argue with her either.”

He raises an eyebrow at her but decides against protesting any further. Their alone time was limited, and he knew they’d only get less of it when the baby was born, so he nods and stands up, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as he lets her lead him to the living room. 

“Does being pregnant also mean you get to pick the movie?” 

She scoffs and links her arm through his, pressing her cheek against his shoulder. “Honey, I always pick the movie.” 

-x-

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[scoutfnch]

Losing My Best Friend to My Ex-Boyfriend

An act of betrayal leads a writer to ponder what it means to end a friendship

By HANNAH HORVATH

Jessa always refused to use the words "best friend." I long feared her reticence masked a reluctance to fully welcome me into her life. That, in her eyes, I might be somehow unworthy of the love, praise, and hugs that I so eagerly bestowed upon her. She nurtured all of my insecurities, allowing them to fester, then grow.

I realize now, with the benefit of the wisdom that can only come once you've lived as long a twenty-seven years as I have, that this was probably my favorite thing about her.

Adam always refused to use the word "boyfriend." He courted me for months. His method involved me inviting myself over to his apartment, where we'd have weird sex that never quite satisfied me. He was, and remains, the only person I've ever truly loved. 

But I realize now that what initially attracted me to him were the same things that attracted me to her.

So perhaps it should come as no surprise that Adam and Jessa are in love with each other.

Adam finally agreed to be my boyfriend on a sticky hot night in the summer of 2012. I fell off his bicycle and he told me everything about him. Things I didn't know because, as he reminded me, I never asked. He loved books. He was an alcoholic. He owned pants.

Is was the same night that Jessa met Adam for the first time. "He does look like the original man," I recall her saying.

I met Jessa for the first time on the campus of Oberlin College in the fall of 2006. I chased her around Northern Ohio for seven months before a heroin addiction landed her in rehab. She wouldn't return to school. 

She had no Facebook or MySpace even though it was 2006. She didn't understand text messaging either. "Word alerts," she called them. We kept in touch on the phone. She'd call me at all hours of the night. She'd wake me up and I'd pretend that I wasn't asleep. I loved hearing her (possibly fake, likely exaggerated) British accented voice in my ear as I listened with wonder. She'd drone on about whatever guy had fallen in love with her or whatever country she was in that day. [...] She disappeared as quickly as she had from Oberlin, stranding me at her father's house Upstate. She'd end up in rehab again. 

In her absence, I fell apart. My long-dormant Obsessive Compulsive Disorder was back and in a big, big, big, big, big, big, big, big way. I needed Jessa, though what aide she might have been able to provide remains unclear.

Adam was there. He came running. Literally, running shirtless through the streets of Brooklyn to my door in Greenpoint. 

Our relationship began again in earnest. A few months later, I got a phone call in the middle of the night. It was the same person who always called me in the middle of the night.

[...]

We broke up, and after a few months, Adam wants to get back together. I said no. I started dating a co-worker. 

Some time between then and when we broke up, Adam and Jessa kissed for the first time, had sex for the first time, told each other for the first time - things I might not even know about. They fell in love.

Maybe they are better for each other than I ever was for either of them. Their addictions are to substances, but mine are to people like them. People whose behavior confirms my darkest fears about myself. People who give me an excuse not to be happy. 

My story is a simple tale of jealousy. Or, of beating jealousy back like in the medieval dragon it is. In this story, I am Viggo Mortensen in "Lord of the Rings," and jealousy is powerless against my sword.

And this begins the way all stories of jealousy do... all great stories of jealousy... which is with my ex-boyfriend and my best friend fucking. And this is not just any best friend. This is the best friend who I would say looks like Brigitte Bardot had a baby with a mermaid. She literally had an open fungal sore on her face and Matthew Perry still asked her out.

So, um, I guess I'm not what you would describe as, like, a chill girl. I'm not like a cool, relaxed lady. Like, you would never meet me and be like, "That Hannah, she really goes with the flow like a funky youth." You would be like, "Has she snorted Adderall in the last 60 minutes?"

So when I found out about my ex-boyfriend and my best friend, um, I was weirdly calm, considering that fact. Frozen, even, you know? I tried to imagine all these horrible things, like him licking her elephant tramp stamp and sucking her tiny tit while she cupped his balls and then he sucked on her lip, which is shaped like a rosebud.

And I tried to get myself really worked up and just imagine all this horrible stuff on a loop, but the fact is that I wasn't angry, I was sad. I was sad about what I thought they knew I was. I thought they were sitting there going like, "Oh, God, Hannah's freaking out. She's gonna kill a cat and she's gonna nail it to our door. She's going to cry so hard that all of Greenpoint fills with tears and it's like fuckin' Waterworld."

And you know what? They weren't wrong. I had to fight really, really hard not to be that girl. And it wasn't easy. I thought about, um, throwing a bike through his window, but, A, he lives on the third floor. I have very poor upper body strength. And, B, he probably would have appreciated it and been like, "Thanks for the bike."

I thought about sending her a text that said, "How does the wind feel caressing your two faces, young lady?" But instead I sat and cried and thought and ate and wrote and masturbated thinking about Chris Farley, which is a thing from my childhood that I haven't fully worked through yet.

But when I heard tonight's theme was jealousy, I knew that I needed an end to my story, a real end, and that end came about 20 minutes before I arrived here when I delivered a very nice and not at all cheap fruit basket to his door, along with a note that said, "Good luck. I mean it sincerely. In perpetuity, Hannah."

'Cause that's the fact, you know? I'm Hannah forever. No matter what I do, no matter whether I, you know, start a new nuclear missile crisis with my emotions or just sit back and chill and give someone a fruit basket. I can only control the mayhem that I create around me.

But the crazy thing is that when I showed up, I heard screaming and I heard my name and I heard madness, and I knew that I was free, at least for tonight. That's all. Thank you.

#GIRLS (2012) #lena dunham #hannah horvath #adam sackler #hbo girls #adam driver #jessa johansson