#this one sentence has changed me forever | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thefatedthoughtofyou · 6 months

Text

{ Thank you for the idea @imsodonewiththissite !! It almost got angsty but i controlled myself!!! }

"What in God's name is that?" Dustin’s voice goes almost shrill as he walks behind Steve, looks down at his pumpkin. Eddie's head shoots up from where he's carving his own pumpkin, his legs shot out in front of him, his feet hitting Steve's across from him. Steve flushes, tells Dustin to shut up, and shoves at his legs to get him to move on.

"Alright alright jeez! It's just... I've never seen a pumpkin like that. Did you even try?" Dustin huffs as he settles back into his own carving area between Lucas and Will.

"Yes. I did try. Thank you very much. Henderson." Steve huffs, wipes at his pumpkin, then wipes his hand in the grass to get the bits of guts off. Eddie sits up taller, making a show of trying to see Steve's carving, but not really trying to see, they'd agreed to show each other at the same time.

Steve hadn't really had any idea what to do, so he'd just done something silly. But he could see Will and Dustin’s and theirs were detailed, and spooky. And his just looked... stupid, now. Steve sighed and put the top back on his, waiting for Eddie to finish.

He was staring, he knew he was. He couldn't help it. He loved when Eddie was in full concentration mode, his tongue poking out between his lips, his brows crinkled. Steve would never tell him that. But he could look. No harm in that.

Eddie looked up and met his eyes, smiled brightly, and dusted of his own pumpkin before popping the top back on. He tilted his head, this way and that, a few times and then looked at Steve again.

"Okay. You ready?" He asked, drumming his fingers on the gourd resting under his hands. Steve scrunched his nose.

"I'm having second thoughts." He said quietly, the kids were all yelling, in their own little world, but he still didn't want them to hear.

"Aww. But I'm excited to see it! Especially with the way Dusty Buns reacted." Eddie drooped, his eyes going wide and sad, the way Steve was weak agaisnt. He sighed, his own body drooping.

"Ugh. Fine. On three?" He tilted his head. Eddie nodded.

"On three."

"One."

"Twosie." Eddie wiggled his fingers, Steve rolled his eyes fondly.

"Three!" They both said it together and turned their pumpkins toward each other.

Steve's eyes shot open, Eddie's was... good. Like really good. Everything a spooky jack-o-lantern should be. Creepy eyes, sharp teeth, what looked like a skull nose.

"Holy shit Eds. That's... holy shit. Mine is so shit compared to- why are you making that face? What's happening?" Steve changed directions mid sentence because Eddie's mouth had dropped open as he stared at Steve hideous excuse for a carving.

"Oh my god you hate it." Steve grabbed at his pumpkin, about to turn it back toward him and hide it forever but he froze when a sound started coming out of Eddie's open mouth.

It took a moment to really form, but once it got going, Steve could hear it. Manical giggles were bubbling up out of Eddie's mouth. He slapped his hands over his face to stop them but they just kept coming.

Steve wasn't sure if he should be offended or not. He frowned though, his brows dropping on his head and Eddie immediately shook his head.

"Oh my god he's ADORABLE!" Eddie cackled the words, shoved his own pumpkin genlty aside and crawled toward Steve's, his hands outstreched and grabbing.

"I know it's- wait what?" Steve was so confused.

"Steve I love him. Look at his stupid little face." He'd devolved into baby talk and was scratching at the pumkin like you would a babies chin. Steve felt himself smiling.

"Wait you actually like it?" Dustin guffawed from behind him. Eddie spun around fast, guarding Steve's pumpkin from sight.

"Excuse me?! 'It'? Don't you ever speak like that about my son- our son!" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at Steve. Dustin rolled his eyes.

"It's not even scary! It's just a big mouth!" Dustin’s hands flailed. Eddie screamed at him dramatically, clutching his chest.

"He has a tooth! And two adorable teeny tiny eyes!" Eddie moved, pointed at the face Steve had made. El and Will both aw-d, Max and Lucas smiled, Mike just rolled his eyes.

"He's not- it's just-" Dustin stammered a bit.

"What? Dustin. He's what?!" Eddie asked, his hands still clutching at his chest.

"He's ugly! Okay? It's an ugly pumpkin!" Dustin yelled, Steve didn't even have time to feel hurt, because Eddie shrieked again, his voice going impossibly high.

"Dustin Henderson! I can't believe you just called your brother ugly. You heathen!" Eddie practically hissed the last word before he hopped to his feet and bundled Steve's pumpkin into his arms.

"Unbelievable. We don't need them Steve. Let's go." He popped his nose into the air and looked to Steve. He knew he had to look like a deer in headlights, not sure exactly where they were meant to be going.

"Kitchen." Eddie whispered, giving Steve a wink.

"Oh right. Okay yeah." Steve stumbled toward the door, opening it for Eddie as he stomped after him.

"Oh what you're going inside? Just leaving us out here?" Dustin called, Will and El booing him as he kept taunting Steve and Eddie. Eddie spun, looked at Dustin, propped the pumpkin on his hip like a toddler and pointed his finger accusingly.

"Yes. And we are leaving... in a huff!" Eddie's accent sounded slightly French at the end as he spun around again and stomped into the house.

"Slam the door Steven. Show them we mean it." Eddie said with an air finality. Steve grinned, fighting back laughter, and slammed the door. He tugged the blind closed too, for good measure. He turned to find Eddie wiping at the pumpkin with a wet washrag, getting all the little shavings off.

"You didn't have to do that." Steve said, moving to stand next to him. But not too close.

"Do what?" Eddie asked, grabbing the dish towel off the little hook and drying the pumpkin now. Steve sighed, leaned his butt against the counter and looked at the floor.

"Play it up liked you love the pumpkin. To make me feel better about my complete lack of skill." Steve laughed a little, shrugged, and looked up to find Eddie staring at him. He tossed the towel down and took a step forward.

"Oh no. Unfortunately for you, Steven. That was a genuine reaction. I fucking love this thing." He patted at the side of the pumpkin and grinned at Steve. Steve frowned.

"Really? It's not... I mean it's nothing special. Did you see Will's, I swear there was a castle on it." Steve shook his head. Dismissive.

"Oh I saw it. Still like yours more." Eddie said, matter of fact.

"Why?" Steve was still frowning. Eddie sighed, walked over and stood next to Steve, his arm pressed agaisnt him, warm.

"Me and my mom used to buy four pumpkins. Every Halloween. Always four. Two for her. And two for me." Eddie's voice was soft, the way it always was when he talked about his mother. Steve found himself trying not to breathe to loudly, he wanted to hear everything Eddie had to say.

"We'd each do a classic, spooky guy. But the other one. The other one we used to make just... the most ridiculous faces. Or the dumbest ones. Anything cute and silly." He looked at Steve for a moment, a soft smile on his lips at the memory.

"It very quickly became a contest of who could make who laugh the most. Just by carving some silly face." Eddie shook his head and laughed gently.

"I haven't made a funny one since she died. And you turned that pumpkin around and it took me back. To all those stupid pumpkins and how we used to laugh. And I mean really laugh." Eddie's voice was getting tight as he spoke, a little wobbly, and Steve wanted to hug him, wasn't sure if he could.

"She had the best laugh Steve. She'd have loved this." He moved his hand over the pumpkin again, gently stroked down it's side.

"And you."

It was almost too quiet. Steve almost didn't hear it. Wasn't sure he had until he looked up and saw the way Eddie was looking at him. Steve is so sure that it's the same way he'd been looking at Eddie for months now.

"It's the perfect pumpkin Steve. The best one I've seen in years." He's so serious, when he says it. Steve feels like he might cry. Feels a bit reckless, with Eddie looking at him like that. So he leans toward Eddie, his heart fluttering as Eddie smiles, just a barely thing, and leans toward him too.

The kiss is soft, Eddie makes a little sound in the back of his throat when Steve's hand moves to his neck and pulls him closer. They kiss until they're both smiling so much it's just their teeth clicking together and Eddie dissolves into manic giggles again and buries his face in Steve's neck as he holds him close.

"You have a good laugh too Ed's. " Steve sighs, pulling Eddie closer as he hums and nuzzles into his neck, his fingers pressing into Steve's back as he cuddles closer. Steve breathes deeply, his nose buried in Eddie's hair, and feels Eddie smile against the soft skin of his neck.

( below is an approximation of their pumpkin faces. I fucked up the eddie one's mouth dont looookk at meeeee )

#Halloween blurb #steddie #steddie ficlet #Fates Endless Inkwell #fei #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #mine #my writing #my fic

2K notes · View notes

f1goat · 2 months

Text

more than friends ; lando norris + part four

In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.

masterlist - playlist

fem!y/n x lando norris

warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.

requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things

a/n: this is a rewritten story, you can find the explanation on my profile

part one / part two / part three

“Lan,” you shyly start your sentence, “when erm, when are we going to have sex?” You continue your question. You feel your cheeks reddening while asking your friend that question. Lando almost drops his phone when he hears your question. He sends you a confused look.

“What’s with the hurry?” He asks you with the same confused tone in his voice.

You let out a nervous laugh. “This is going to sound really stupid,” you confess, “but there’s this guy who asked me on a date.”

“So?” Lando asks. He already feels his jealousy coming up. Someone asked you on a date? He wonders who asked you and if you said yes to the guy. Maybe Max was right and he should just ask you on a date himself. Maybe that would stop this mess.

“I kinda want to say yes,” you tell Lando nervously, “but I want to wait for when I’m not a virgin anymore.” Lando shoots you another confused look, he doesn’t get why that would help with the date. “I uh, think it’s better for my confidence,” you explain. You don’t mention that you want to make sure that Lando is the one who takes your virginity.

Lando stays silent for a couple minutes. He thinks about how he can handle this properly. His first choice would be to let you stall the date for like forever, but he knows that will only bite him in the ass. “How long can you stall him?” Lando asks you eventually. When you keep your silence to think, Lando adds a few more words. “I don’t think it’s smart to rush this,” he explains himself.

“I already told him that I’d be away for three weeks,” you reply, “so at least that time. And maybe I can add another week when we’re back, blaming it on a jet lag or something.”

Lando feels a bit more relieved. Three or four weeks. A lot can change in that time, right? Maybe he will finally find the confidence to tell you about his feelings for you. Maybe not. Probably not, now that he thinks of it. He has this feelings for you since forever and all those years weren’t enough for him to gain the confidence to tell you… He lets out a soft sigh, he needs to think of a plan.

“That’ll work I guess,” Lando says eventually.

“So what’s next?” You ask Lando, “I feel like there’s so much you still have to teach me.”

“Relax babygirl,” Lando says, “I think we first need to focus on how I’m going to pack my suitcase with stuff for three weeks in only an hour.”

“You didn’t pack yet?” You ask Lando, “We’re leaving in an hour!”

“Oops?” Lando laughs.

You let out a sigh. It doesn’t even surprise you that Lando didn’t pack yet. “You never change,” you tell Lando with a small smile on your face. Then you stand up to help Lando pack his stuff, just like you always do. It doesn’t take the two of you that long to pack all his stuff. Like always, you secretly put some shirts and short pants into Lando his luggage. He’s always to stubborn to pack anything else then hoodies, and that without checking the weather. Something you did for sure when you packed your own stuff, so you know for sure that he can use some clothes that’s more suitable for the hot weather.

“Thanks babygirl,” Lando says after closing the last zipper from his suitcase. He moves closer to you and presses a soft kiss against your forehead. You don’t know what has gotten into you, but you are quick to press your lips against Lando his lips. Without giving it a second thought, you kiss Lando. You feel him smiling through the kiss. He pulls you closely to himself and wraps his arms around your body.

The kiss was meant innocent and short, but Lando is quick to turn it into something more. His hands are roaming over your body. It doesn’t take him long before finding your ass and giving it a couple squeezes. You let out a soft moan. You feel it vibrate against Lando his lips.

Lando his ringtone distracts the both of you from what you’re doing. You watch how he picks his phone up and say a simple okay after a few seconds of listening. “The cab is here,” he informs you, you reply with a small nod. Lando grabs his luggage and as much of yours as he can manage. Leaving you to only hold two small bags with your own stuff.

“You know, you’re a great kisser,” Lando says while walking towards the cab.

“I learned from the best,” you joke with an innocent smile.

Lando lets out a soft laugh. “Imagine how great you will be with everything else with such a good teacher,” he continues to joke.

“We’ll see.”

+++

Lando sighs when he takes place in his drivers room. You don’t know what to say to him. He just lost a great qualifying lap due to track limits. If he didn’t lose the lap, he would have started second tomorrow. You are pretty sure that Lando is really mad at himself right now. He always is. Whenever something doesn’t go perfect, he’s blaming himself for it. Right now Lando is softly muttering to himself. You can’t hear exactly what he’s saying, but you guess it’s something in the line of him calling himself an idiot and a bad driver. It makes you feel hurt. You have been here for a lot of his highs and lows since he has his seat with McLaren. You have seen him upset with himself many times before, but it never hurts less.

“Lan,” you softly say, hoping for a response. He doesn’t even look at you while responding. “Don’t say it’s not my fault,” Lando states, “I’m the one who get track limits. I’m the one to blame. I’m the one who fucked up.”

You think about what to say, but you know that a lot of you guesses aren’t the right one. You can say so many things to Lando about he will do better tomorrow and that he’s still starting in the top ten, but it’s not what he wants to hear right now. Eventually you decide to throw it on a whole other subject.

“Maybe I can cheer you up?” You suggests.

Lando looks up and stares at you. “Cheer me up?” He asks confused.

“Distract you a bit,” you continue shyly.

“What do you mean babygirl?” Lando asks you even more confused.

“What about another lesson?” You ask Lando, “You could teach me how to give you a blowjob.”

“You don’t have to,” Lando quickly says, “I didn’t even went down on you yet.”

“I want to,” you reply to him, “and I think it will do a great job with cheering you up.”

“Sure?” Lando asks a bit confused. You nod. “Words babygirl,” Lando reminds you about his need for you to say everything out loud. “Yes Lando,” you say, “I want to give you a blowjob.” Lando his facial expressions are quick to brighten up. He’s already smiling while thinking about your lips around his dick. It even causes his dick to get hard already.

“But, you need to tell me what to do,” you tell Lando a bit nervous. He nods eagerly. Then he grabs one of your hands and brings it to his boner. You don’t wait for another instruction and start to palm his boner through his race suit. Lando stays silent for a while, enjoying your slow movements in peace. When you apply a bit more pressure, the first soft moan leaves his lips. In the mean time you press a kiss against Lando his cheek.

After a few minutes of moving slowly with your hand on his bulge, you try to grab his dick through his race suit. Lando groans when he feels your hand on his dick. He wants nothing more then to feel your skin on his own. He needs to lose the suit. Without thinking about it Lando pulls down the zipper of his race suit. While he unzips his suit, you take a good look at him. It’s almost unfair how good Lando is looking. Since when does his fireproof so much to you?

“Can I take it off?” Lando asks you.

“Yes please,” you are eager to answer.

You move your hands away from him, giving him the space to pull of his race suit. Lando grins because of your reaction. He kicks off his shoes and then removes his suit from his body. It feels so strange to see Lando standing in front of you in only his underwear, but then you remember that he’ll lose those in a few seconds too.

Before Lando can pull of his briefs, you move your lips against his bare chest. Softly you press multiple kisses against his chest. Slowly you move down towards his boxers. In the mean time you still have his boner in your hands. You stroke him softly. When you reach the edge with your mouth, you stop with stroking. Slowly you pull down Lando his boxers. His hard member is quick to pop out of his briefs. Lando finishes your action and takes his boxers off.

You take your time to look at his dick. It’s the first you see in real life. Of course you have seen some porn movies before, so you have a clear image from how a dick can look. But in a weird way, Lando his member seems more appealing to you. His member is pretty, if you can say it like that. You never thought you’d find a dick pretty. Lando looks at you while you stare at his member. You notice the thick vein that’s laying on his dick. Now that you think about it, his whole boner seems to be at the thick side. Maybe it’s not as long as in the porn movies, but you already guesses that was a bit over the top. You wonder how Lando his thick member will fit inside your mouth and one day inside your vagina.

“If you’re not sure, you don’t have to do this,” Lando tells you softly.

“No,” you quickly reply. “I want to do this, but you need to tell me what to do.”

Lando grins happily. He’s glad you still want to continue with this. He wasn’t sure if a cold shower would have helped this time. In the mean time you move your hands back to Lando his dick. Lando feels himself hardening under your touch. Has he ever been this hard? You slowly explore his member with your hand. At first you trace the vein laying on top of it with one of your fingers. Then you softly touch his tip. You wait for Lando to say something.

“Lick it a bit,” Lando instructs you. You notice the change of his voice tone. “Make it wet,” he adds. He almost sounds strict. It gives you weird butterflies.

You take his words into action. Without giving it a second thought, you move your head closer to his member. Carefully you let your tongue come in contact with him. Slowly you lick around his member. Lando lets out a soft moan. You continue your movements. You let your tongue slide over his dick. Exploring the way it feels on your tongue.

“Put it into your mouth babygirl,” Lando continues to instruct you. He needs to make sure that his dick has been inside your mouth before he cums. All the teasing you’re doing - without even knowing it, is already making him close to getting his orgasm.

Again you do what Lando says. Carefully you take the top of his dick inside your mouth. Your mouth is quick to feel fulled up. You try to go as deep as you can, but you’re quick to feel some tears popping up in the corners of your eyes.

“Slowly baby,” Lando quickly says when he notices the tears as well, “you don’t have to take everything inside. The top is the most sensitive part.”

You pull back for a bit. Letting his member out of your mouth. Before taking it back inside, you take a deep breath. You try to remember Lando his words. You make sure that the top of his boner is inside your mouth. It feels like you have room for a bit more, so carefully you take him a bit deeper into your mouth. You remind yourself to take your time. Lando his hands has found their way into your hair. Softly he plays with your hair. You lick a bit around his tip with your tongue. Lando rewards you with a moan. It makes you feel good, giddy even, when he reacts like that.

“Move your head up and down,” Lando instructs you, “Try to make the same stroking movement as before, but now with you mouth.”

Again you take Lando his words into action. Slowly you move your head up and down. You let your mouth slide over his dick a couple times. Lando lets out another moan. You feel proud to be the reason behind those moans. You suck a bit harder onto his dick. Without giving it a second thought, you use your hand to hold the part that doesn’t fit into your mouth. You start to stroke it, alining the movements with the bobbing you do with your mouth.

“Fuck babygirl,” Lando groans, “You’re really good at this.”

His words make you feel even better. It causes you to fasten your movements. You try to lick his tip as well in the mean time. Lando is quick to become a moaning mess underneath your touch. You feel the way his dick is pulsing inside your mouth.

“If you don’t want to taste, you should finish it with your hands,” Lando says after a while. You don’t act on his words. Simply you keep continuing your earlier movements.

Lando can’t stop looking at you while feeling this close to his orgasm. He is still holding your hair in his hands, softly he tugs onto it for a bit. The way you stare at his dick while you’re making him feel like this, turns him on even more. There have been enough girls who have given him a blowjob, but none of them felt like this. He can’t understand how it is possible that you’re so good at everything already. How can it be that someone with no sexual experience is so much better then everyone else? It’s insane.

“Last warning baby,” Lando warns you with a soft voice. You still don’t remove your mouth from his dick. If he didn’t said anything, you still could have guessed that he’s close to his orgasm. His moans are giving it away. They are becoming more messier and louder with the second. You try to take his dick even further into your mouth. Before you know it, you notice a salty taste inside your mouth. You’re quick to connect the dots and realize what just happened. Lando just came undone.

You decrease your pace, but still keep sucking him off. There are a couple more drops of Lando his cum that are finding their way inside of your mouth. When you think he’s completely empty, you remove your mouth from him. While looking at Lando you swallow his cum.

“Fuck,” Lando groans, “I could cum again by looking at you doing that.”

You show Lando a small innocent smile. He pulls you onto himself. “Don’t look that innocent baby, not after what you just did,” he tells you. You can’t react to him. He is presses a soft kiss against your cheek before doing the same against your lips.

“If I told you that this was the best blowjob of my life, would you believe me?” Lando asks you after a bit of a comfortable silence.

“No,” you reply while shaking your head.

“You just did babygirl,” Lando confesses, “I have never experienced a blowjob this good.”

You let out a soft chuckle. “Maybe that says something about the other blowjobs you have gotten,” you say.

“No,” Lando quickly states, “It says everything about you. You’re incredibly good at this baby. And you did find an excellent way to distract me from stupid qualifying lap.”

You laugh. “I’ll remember that for the next time,” you say jokingly. Lando laughs and nods eagerly. “But don’t beat yourself up because of it Lan. Everyone can make mistakes. I’m sure you’ll be fighting for great points tomorrow, I even dare to say that you’ll end up on the podium,” you tell Lando.

“If I get a podium, I’m celebrating with eating you out,” Lando states confidently.

“That’s not a celebration,” you laugh.

“It is for me.”

Fuck, why is you stomach tightening because of Lando his words? This really can’t be good.

+++

Later that evening Lando and you are sitting in a small restaurant together. He’s sitting next to you, together you’re pressed up closely on a small couch. Oscar and Lily are sitting in front of you. Lando is getting more annoying with the second, he has hunger and absolutely no patience for his food to come. He already toyed with everything on the table and now it’s your turn apparently.

Lando his hand finds your upper thigh. You almost jump up. He toys with the short skirt you’re wearing. When you feel his hand getting closer to your private parts, you stop him with you own hand. What is he doing? Lando is quick to find his way back to your thigh and squeezes it softly. You can’t help yourself and let out a soft whimper.

“You okay Y/N?” Lily asks you.

You send Lando an angry look before answering Oscars girlfriend. “Yeah, just hungry,” you tell her jokingly. It’s enough for Lando to give you a bit more space. He moves himself a bit more away from you. When you feel his hand leave your upper leg, you’re quick to take action. Within milliseconds you have his hand in your own and guide it back towards your thigh. With one stern look you hope he will behave himself.

Before Lando can do anything stupid, the food is already arriving to your table. Quietly everyone takes their time to eat. Lando - who had a lot of hunger before, is the first one to finish. Meaning he is keeping up the conversations with Oscar, but also has his hands free again. While he talks to Oscar he lets his hand find it’s way back to your leg.

At first you don’t give it any attention. But when you feel Lando his hand getting under your skirt and his fingers grace against your clothed pussy, you can’t help yourself anymore. You almost choke in a piece of your meal. Loudly you cough. Lando plays the worried friend and hands you your drink, while his other hand is still coming closer towards your private parts then before. You cough another few times, before standing up and announcing that you’re going to the bathroom.

“You’re quite touchy,” Oscar mentions when you walk away. Lando gives his teammate and friend a confused look. It can’t be that Oscar noticed what he did, right? “You’re never this close to Y/N,” Oscar continues, “Are you two finally dating?”

Lando laughs. Why does everyone think the two of you are dating? He wish it was like that. To answer Oscar he shakes his head and tells him no, “Still friends.”

“Sure about that?” Oscar asks his friend. Lando notices the way Lily is also looking at him with raised eyebrows.

“I think I would notice it if I were dating with her, don’t you think?” Lando jokes a bit. He feels his phone vibrating in his pocket and decides to look at it. He’s quick to notice a message coming from you.

Y/N: i hate you

Lando: you hate me?

Y/N: you made me horny

Lando doesn’t even notice that Oscar is talking to him, until Oscar says his name a couple times. “Then you must have gotten text messages from someone you’re dating with,” Oscar sighs. Lando sends him a confused look, “No, it’s Y/N,” he says even confused. Then he realizes that it probably wasn’t smart to say that you’re texting him. “She isn’t feeling well,” he quickly adds.

Lando: come back here, I told them you’re not feeling well

Lando: we can go back to the hotel right away

Lando: and then I might help you with your problem ;)

Y/N: you better help me with the problem you caused.

Lando smiles at his phone again.

Not even twenty minutes later Lando and you are back at the hotel room you share together. Lando is pressed up against you. Something that happens quite a lot lately. His hands have found their way back to your thigh. You can’t stop yourself from letting out a soft whimper.

“You’re the worst,” you softly say the Lando.

“The worst?” He asks you, “I think I’m the one who makes you feel the best you’ve ever done.”

You can’t argue with that logic from him. Lando his hand is coming closer to where you want him the most right now. Teasingly he drags his finger over your panties a couple time. When you almost make another remark about him teasing you, Lando pulls your string aside.

“I want to taste you,” Lando groans. He feels the wetness that he caused earlier. When he looks at you, he’s surprised to see you shake your head. Are you telling him no? “No?” He asks a bit confused.

“First a podium,” you tell Lando teasingly.

He lets out a grunt.

“You wanted to celebrate like that,” you remind Lando, “so earn it tomorrow with a podium.”

Lando can’t help it and lets out a soft whine. “You’re the worst,” he repeats your earlier words to you. You don’t reply verbally, you just show Lando a innocent smile. It surprises you when Lando lets his finger enter you. You almost expected that he wasn’t going to continue as payback. His sudden movement cause you to let out a moan.

When he uses his finger to draw circles on your clit, it doesn’t take you long to come close to your orgasm. “I’m close,” you tell Lando.

“How close?” He asks you.

“Really close,” you confess.

“Ask for my permission,” Lando instructs you, “I won’t let you cum without it.”

You don’t even think about his words. Before you realize it, pleas are coming from your lips. Begging Lando to make you cum. “Please Lan,” you beg. Lando has a smug smile plastered on his face. He’s enjoying this way too much. He feels you whimpering underneath his touch. “Please,” you beg him again, “Make me cum.”

“Cum babygirl,” he tells you eventually. He increases his pace and adds another finger into your pussy. It causes you to release everything within seconds. With a trail of moans you come undone. Lando removes his fingers and pulls you closer. He puts his fingers inside his mouth to suck them clean.

“Now I really have to get a podium tomorrow,” he tells you a bit jokingly. You send him a confused look, still not getting his wish to eat you out. “This taste is already doing things to me,” Lando continues, “and I can’t wait to get addicted to it properly.”

part five

taglist: @booksandplushies @dinodumbass @formula1mount @words-are-cheap @allywthsr @inejghafawifesblog @chonkybonky @formulas-bitch @harrysdimple05 @vildetry06 @wherethefuckisthething @nonameishere @lauralarsen@meadhbhcavanagh @obliviatevamps @shy4turcs @fix5idiots @nightlockcornucopia @marialovesf1 @kapsylia @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @lanando4 @lauralarsen @leclercdream @agentadhd @rewmuslupin @allsouls-emma @iamshiningeuw @teenagedreams-cl@kiskso @loxbbg @vellicora @thomaslefteyebrow @avg-golden-retriever @amorydsmt @killjoynotes@barelytolerabled @starmanv @changetyre @kami10471633 @2bormaybenot @httpmrklee @buendiabebeta @aliceespector@ryiamarie @mickslover @sop-hie092 @miniemonie2001 @greymarvelskaikru @kapsylia@swiftiedrafts @thatchickwiththecamera @formulas-bitch @venisvendetta @t3a-3njoy3r @landowecanbewc

taglist p2: @chezmardybum @booksandflowrs @mineandneveryours @strawberryy-kiwii @noneofyourfbusinessworld @secretgal66 @trinity2058 @evieepepi08 @shutupmymomsc4lling @smiithys @nanamilkbread @hellowgoodbye @annie115 @random-1927 @sadmeal444 @christianpulisic10 @peachiicherries @toppersjeep @lovingaphroditesworld @kiskso @silentreader128 @lauralarsen @scopeiguess

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris imagine #ln4 #formula one #f1 #lando norris imagines #lando norris smut

840 notes · View notes

honnelander · 8 months

Text

busgirl

once again i got carried away and wrote way more than i planned too lol thank you to the lovely anon who requested this and i hope i did your prompt justice request: what if the reader’s a merchant’s daughter who was supposed to marry a suitor but she runs away and ends up meeting sanji

WARNINGS: none

word count: 3.4k

pairing: opla!sanji x fem!reader

summary: reader is arranged to be married but she won't stand for it. so what does she do? she runs away and meets one particular chef, begging him for help

masterlist

taglist: @smol-book-nerd @shuujin @smolracoon25 @mischiefmanaged71 @amanda08319

You never imagined your life turning out like this: still living with your father at this grown age, never having gone beyond your small island town ever in your life, and waking up every day just to relive the same day over and over again. It was torture.

Every single day of your life has been the same since you left school: you woke up before the sun rose, made breakfast for you and your father, helped prepare the wagon for its daily trip into town, then spend all day yelling in the town's square trying to sell any shoes you could (your father was a shoe merchant), pack up the unsold product at the end of the day, head home, make dinner, then go to bed soon after cleaning up just so you could wake up and do the same things all over again. You hated it.

But what could you really do to change anything? You were born to a poor shoe merchant and ever since your mother had died, things had become even tighter for your small family, of now, two.

Your father never had much, barely a penny to his name, so that meant you also had no money to your name either. Sure, you could've started a side hustle of scams and cons, maybe trying your luck at playing poker at the docks whenever pirates showed up, but how could you just leave your father like that? Just leave him all alone once you scraped together enough berry to buy a one-way ticket out of this town? As much as you were tempted, you couldn't. It didn't feel right. And besides, you were always too exhausted at the end of the day to do anything else anyway.

But then one day, your father said something that would change your life forever.

The day started out like any other. You had cooked a quick meal of toast and eggs for yourselves and once you finished your plate, you moved to get up to put the dishes in the sink for later.

But before you could get out of your seat, your dad grabbed your wrist gently, telling you to stay seated. "Actually, y/n, no need to rush this morning. We're not going into town today."

"What?" You were taken aback. You couldn't remember a day where you both didn't do this daily routine. "Why?"

Your father couldn't look at you in the eye. Instead, he kept his focus on his half-eaten breakfast, which was also weird. He normally finished eating before you. "Y/n...you know I wouldn't do this unless I had no other choice," he started.

You felt your heart drop to the bottom of your stomach. What was happening?

"But business has been really slow lately, and I tried to hold this off for as long as I could," he continued.

"Hold what off?"

He kept talking like you hadn't said anything. "But there really was no other choice." He swallowed and finally looked up and the look in his eyes scared you. You've never seen your father look that upset before...the only other time he had looked like that had been when mom died.

You tried to swallow but your mouth was dry. "Dad, what's going on?"

"And you know I always will love you, right?"

"Dad," you said a little more sternly, your heart beating a thousand miles a minute. "What is happening?" After a moment of silence, you repeated yourself. "Dad, answer me."

His next sentence hit you like a ton of bricks. "Y/n, I arranged for you to be married."

You couldn't move. "What?" you breathed.

Like always, your father continued on like you hadn't said a word. "He's a nice man, a decent man. His name is Olaf and he's from the North Blue, comes from money..."

You felt your dad tighten his grip on your wrist and suddenly you felt like you were being suffocated. You ripped your hand away from your dad's grip, the sting of betrayal hurting more than any cut or wound ever could. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you fought your hardest not to let them fall. "You sold me?" your voice quivered.

Those three words finally got your dad's attention. He looked into your eyes again, hurt evident in his gaze, but you realized you didn't care. Not anymore. "No," he replied firmly. "You know I would never sell you to anyone. I would never do that."

A humorous laugh escaped your lips. "Oh? But you'd put me in an arranged marriage instead? For money?" When you blinked, tears fell down your cheeks. "Are we really that poor dad?" you spat.

"Y/n-"

"Why didn't you tell me how bad off we were before? Before-" you stuttered and waved your arms around, "before all of this? I could've- I could've done something, anything." You ran a hand through your hair as you exhaled, a sardonic smile appearing on your face as you looked up to the ceiling, up to whatever God had subjected you to this cruel fate.

"There's nothing you could've done, y/n."

"You don't know that!" you exclaimed. Pure hot red rage adorning your features as your furious eyes snapped down to look at your dad. "I could've hustled, I could've conned the guys down at the dock for some money. I could've done something instead of nothing!"

"And then what? End up dead in a dark alley once those men found out you stole money from them? End up raped?" Your dad's anger matched yours, his voice growing louder with each sentence. "Maybe become a pirate? There is no way I would ever let that happen to you y/n."

Your dad hated pirates and you knew he would rather die before he ever let you become one.

You flung your arms up in exasperation. rolling your eyes as you let out a frustrated groan. "Oh I don't know dad," you yelled, "maybe I could've joined the Marines or something!"

But your dad didn't like the Marines either. He believed pirates and Marines were the same person, just in different clothes.

"I wouldn't let you do that either, you know that y/n."

Suddenly, a thought stuck you: you were an adult, so why was your father still making all of these major life decisions for you? It didn't make sense.

But you knew one thing: you certainly weren't going to marry some rich guy you didn't know from the North Blue. Not if you were still living and breathing.

You glanced at the open window behind your dad, seeing the early morning tinges of a sunrise lighting up the sky. Perfect, you thought. Docked ships normally didn't leave port until the sun broke the horizon, so you had a chance to hop aboard any ship that would take you far far away from here. Away from your miserable life and a father you were realizing you hated.

The sky started becoming brighter by the minute and your heart rate started to spike. You estimated you had around 20 minutes or so until the sunrise broke and if you were serious about running away, it was now or never.

Suddenly, you stood up from the kitchen table and realized that your father had stopped whatever he was saying to look at you with a curious expression.

"Y/n?"

"Y-you know what dad?" your voice shook and you swallowed your nerves. "I...I think you're right? This Olaf guy probably isn't that bad and would probably give me a better life than I ever could," you ground out and forced a smile that you were sure looked more like a grimace. "I'll do it."

If today had been a normal day, your dad would've been tipped off that something was up but he was just so relieved that you were actually agreeing to all this.

Your dad had a relieved smile on his face as he said, "That makes me so happy to hear that y/n. You have no idea."

"Y-yeah, me too," you agreed with a small nod. You reached down to pick up your plates but your hands were shaking.

Your father placed a hand on your arm. "I understand you're nervous sweetheart. Why don't you go lie down in your room? There's some time until Olaf gets here. I can handle the dishes for today."

Perfect. You agreed and nodded quickly. Thanking your dad and giving him one last look before you went up to your room and never saw him again.

--------- -----

Your lungs were burning as you ran towards the docks. You could feel sweat running down your back as you pushed yourself to run as fast as you could, arms pumping and feet kicking out dirt behind you.

The sky was beginning to turn a lighter shade of orange and a ping of fear gripped your heart.

What if you didn't make it? What if all the ships were all boarded up and ready to set sail by the time you got there? It wasn't uncommon for ships to leave a tad early since most of them had a full day at sea before them but you were so close, you just had to make it. There were probably around five minutes or so until you reached the docks and you just had to get over this ridiculous hill.

But your legs were tired and your sides were cramping and you could feel yourself slowing down due to exhaustion. You weren't a huge runner to begin with but you were literally running for your life- so what choice did you have?

If you made it through all this, you vowed to yourself that you would get better at running. Who knew the next time your life would depend on it?

As you reached the top of the hill, you took a quick second to breathe and survey the docks before you but what you saw nearly stopped your heart. There were normally a dozen or so ships that littered these docks but it looked like most of them had headed out early with only a few ships remaining, and the ones that were left? They looked like they were nearly ready to leave port as well.

With newfound urgency, you sprinted down the hill, yelling out to any sailor who would listen to your plea.

"WAIT!" you screamed. "Wait for me!"

But no one acknowledged you. You started to wave your arms around, your travel bag bouncing around as you continued to sprint.

"PLEASE! I beg you!"

As you got closer, you could start to make out the names of the few ships that were there. There was one ship called "The Happy Farewell" and you figured since they were closest you would try them first.

"Get lost girl," the ship's captain sneered. "I got no use for a girl like you."

"But please, I need to leave. You don't understand," you begged.

The captain clicked his tongue as he shook his head. "Don't we all?" he muttered. But he spared you one last glance before boarding his ship and something in your expression must've been wildly desperate because he sighed before nodding towards the ship two docks down. "Zeff's."

"What?"

"Go to Zeff's ship, girl. The Baratie. He doesn't have the heart to turn away desperate souls like yourself."

Your head whipped towards the direction the captain was looking and you saw the decent-sized Baratie standing there.

"But you better hurry," he warned. "They're setting sail as soon as we leave."

You quickly looked back at the captain to thank him but he was already walking up the plank to board his ship, barking out orders to let down the sails and hoist up the anchor.

Shit. You had to hurry.

You sprinted two docks over and once you reached the dock The Baratie was tied to, you saw a couple of men in white coats loading up the last of the crates of food onboard. You had just made it.

It was weird to you that these pirates were dressed up in matching white coats and blue bandanas around their collar but, hey, it could always be worse and you weren't in a position to be picky. You would even join a circus crew at this point.

You made your way over to the closest "pirate", a tall blonde guy that had hair almost covering his left eye. He was inspecting one of the crates, clipboard in hand and checked things off as he examined it.

"Excuse me," you huffed, trying to get this man's attention. "But I need your help. I need to speak to the ship's captain."

"Don't we all," the guy replied with a good-humored laugh and crooked smile, not looking up from his clipboard.

"Please," you urged. "It's important."

The man looked up from his clipboard and did a double-take, clearly not expecting a young woman like yourself, who looked like they just ran away from demons, asking to speak to the captain this early in the morning.

His eyebrows rose as he looked you over, his smile disappearing. "Are you alright Madam? Is something the matter?"

As his eyes scanned you over, you noticed how good-looking this guy was. And here you were, all sweaty and disheveled, your hair probably sticking out in all different directions. You prayed to whatever God was out there that you didn't have sweat stains on your shirt.

What a day this was turning out to be.

You ran your hands over your hair, trying to smooth down your flyaways and hoping you looked a bit more presentable. "I will be alright, when I speak to the captain."

"Anything I can help you with?"

What the- was this guy hitting on you? Your wandering eyes snapped back to look at this man when he asked that, looking to see if he really had the audacity to hit on you while you were begging for help, but you saw no trace of flirtation whatsoever, just concern.

"Ah- no. Unless you have the power to give me a spot on this crew."

The man's eyes lit up (you noticed they were blue). "Ah, so you want to join the Baratie? Become a chef yourself?"

You looked at him in utter confusion, blinking a couple times to make sure you heard him right. "Huh? A chef?" You looked at his outfit a little more closely and turned to examine the other men who were dressed similarly. You didn't notice it before, but they weren't just wearing any white coat, they were wearing a chef's white coat. "You guys are chefs?" you asked dumbly.

The chef, as you now noticed, rubbed his jaw as he tried to hide his smile at your obvious question. "Yes, Madam. We're chefs."

"So you're a pirate chef?"

The blonde cook couldn't hide his laugh at your series of questions, his blue eyes sparkling and white teeth showing like he had just heard the funniest joke. "No, Madam. We're just chefs. Not pirates or pirate chefs."

You felt stupid and felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. "Oh." But if they were all chefs on this boat, did that mean... "Wait- do I have to be a chef in order to get on this boat?"

"Ah well, if it were up to me," he sighed, "I would give you a spot on the ship regardless if you could cook or not." He twirled the pencil between his fingers as he crossed his arm in thought. "Although, we do need some new waiters. The dining room always seems to be short-staffed..."

You opened your mouth to quickly volunteer yourself even though you never waited tables a day in your life but the blonde chef kept talking.

"Or," he thought out loud," if you really wanted to be a chef with no experience, there are ways you could get into the kitchen. We do need a new busboy. Or girl," he quickly corrected. "Move your way up and learn..."

The sun broke the horizon, the morning orange light now fading into yellow. You swallowed. You were out of time. If you couldn't get a spot on this ship then your life was over.

"I'll do it," you quickly interrupted and nodded. "I'll- I'll do anything. A chef, a waiter, a busboy or busgirl- anything. I'll even clean toilets if I have to. I just- I need to get on this ship."

Your desperate plea silenced the chef, pulling him out of his musings and you could see concern wash over his features. But before he could say anything else, a voice called out from the top of the ship's plank.

"Oi! Sanji! What the hell are you doing down there, son?" the man with a tall chef's hat and braided mustache called out. As he made his way down to the dock, you noticed one of his legs was a wooden peg instead. "The sun's broken the horizon. I don't know how many times I need to tell you this, but next time we pull out of port late, I'm shoving my leg up your ass and you're off the line for a week."

Sanji shook his head, for once not caring about the threat of not cooking, and looked at his father figure, nodding to you. "Zeff, you need to speak to this girl. You have to let her join our crew."

You watched as Zeff followed Sanji's nod and looked down at you with raised eyebrows. It was like he just noticed you were there. "Her? For the last time Sanji, I'm not letting one of your one-night stands join the crew," he said with an exasperated sigh and turned back towards the ship. "Pretty or not."

"Wait!" you called out, grabbing Zeff's arm and immediately dropping it when he turned to look at you in disbelief. "I, I don't know him," you quickly said, pointing at Sanji and taking a big step away from him to prove your point, "My name is y/n and I desperately need a spot on your ship, Sir. Please."

Zeff studied you for a moment, eyes scanning your face. "People like you normally aren't 'desperate' to join my crew."

"But I am, Sir. I," you inhaled a shaky breath at the thought that this man could also turn you away. "I can't stay here. I need to leave. I'll do anything. I can even scrub the toilets."

Zeff regarded you with a short sigh. "Lass, there's no way I would have you scrubbing toilets. I'd make him do that way before asking you," he said and jabbed a thumb at Sanji, silencing Sanji's scoff of disbelief with a look. His face became serious as he asked, "You're serious aren't you?"

You nodded. "As serious as I can be sir."

The head chef became quiet, looking at you like he was trying to figure out what you were running away from, but it wasn't any of his business. At the end of the day, everyone had a past and he wasn't there to judge.

"Alright, lass, you want a position at my restaurant that badly? You got it. Your first service as a busboy- girl, whatever- starts tonight." He pointed a finger at you and with a stern voice asked, "Everyone on this ship earns their keep, alright? And no talking back. Understood?"

Relief flooded your veins at his words, you couldn't control the smile that stretched your cheeks as you nodded. "Yes, chef."

The corner of Zeff's mouth twitched upwards in amusement and he nodded once. "Good." As he turned around to head back onto the ship, he glanced at Sanji. "I like this girl. Wherever you found her...good job, son." He started walking back up the plank onto the ship and called out, "Get those last few crates up on here, boy. We got to leave, we have a dinner service tonight!"

You frowned as you watched Zeff walk away, a little annoyed at the thought that 'Sanji found you' instead of you finding him. When you looked over at Sanji, you saw him still watching Zeff make his way up the plank, beaming slightly at the head chef's praise.

"You didn't find me. I found you," you said to your newest crewmember.

Sanji looked over at you, a small mischievous smile on his face. "And aren't you glad you did?"

Before you could correct him or slap him, you heard Zeff calling out to you from the ship's deck. "Oi! Y/n! What are you doing down there? I'm not paying you to just stand there all day with Sanji! There's a pile of dirty dishes with your name on them in the sink."

"What? Already?" you grumbled as made your way up the plank to board the ship.

From behind you, you could hear Sanji's laughter and you could hear it until you made your way inside.

#sanji x reader #sanji x you #sanji vinsmoke x reader #sanji x y/n #opla!sanji x reader #opla!sanji #one piece x reader #one piece live action #one piece fanfiction #sanji live action #opla #i loved how this turned out tbh #i may make a part 2 #just imagine the potential #thank you to the anon that requested this!

3K notes · View notes

physalian · 1 month

Text

What No One Tells you about Writing #3

Opening this up to writing as a whole, because it turns out I have a lot more to say!

Part 1

Part 2

1. You don’t fall in love with your characters immediately

But when you do, it’s a hit of serotonin like no other. I’d been writing a tight cast of characters for my sci-fi series since 2016 and switched over in a bout of writer’s block this year to my new fantasy book. I made it about ⅓ through writing the book going through the motions, unable to visualize what these new characters look like, sound like, or would behave like without a ‘camera’ on them.

Then, all of a sudden, I opened my document to keep on chugging with the first draft, and it clicked. They were no longer faceless elements of my plot, they were my characters and I was excited to see what they could accomplish, rooting for them to succeed. Sometimes, it takes a while, but it does come.

2. Sometimes a smaller edit is better than a massive rewrite

Unless you’re changing the trajectory of your entire plot, or a character’s arc really is unrecoverable, sometimes even a single line of dialogue, a single paragraph of introspection, or a quick exchange between two characters can change everything. If something isn’t working, or your beta readers consistently aren’t jiving with a character you yourself love, try taking a step back, looking at who they are as a person, and boil down what your feedback is telling you and it might demand a simpler fix than you expect.

Tiny details inserted at the right moment can move mountains. Fan theories stand on the backs of these minutiae. One sentence can turn a platonic relationship romantic. One sentence can unravel a fair and just argument. One sentence can fill or open a massive plot hole.

3. Outline? What outline?

Not every book demands weeks upon weeks of prep and worldbuilding. I would argue that jumping right in with only a vague direction in mind gives you a massive advantage: You can’t infodump research you haven’t done. Exposition is forced to come as the plot demands it, because you haven’t designed it yet.

Not every story is simple and straightforward, but even penning the first draft with your vague plan, *then* going back and adding in deeper worldbuilding elements, more thematic details, richer character development, can get you over the writer’s block hurdle and make it far less intimidating to just shut up and write the book.

4. It’s okay to let your characters take the wheel

I’ve seen writing advice that chastises authors who let their characters run wild, off the plan the story has for them. Yeah, doing this can harm your pacing and muddy a strong and consistent arc, but refusing to leave the box of your outline greatly limits your creativity. I do this particularly when writing romantic relationships (and end up like Captain Crunch going Oops! All Gays!).

Did I plan for these two to get together? No, it just happened organically as I wrote them talking, getting closer, getting to know each other better in the circumstances they find themselves in. Was this character meant to be gay? Well, he wasn’t meant to be straight, but you know what, he’d work really well with this other boy over here. None of that would have happened if I was bound and determined to follow my original plan, because my original plan didn’t account for how the story that I want to tell evolves. You aren’t clairvoyant—it’s okay if it didn’t end up where you thought it would.

5. Fight. Scenes. Suck.

Which is crazy because I love fantasy and sci-fi, the actiony-est genres. Some authors love battle scenes and fistfights. It comes naturally to them and I will forever be jealous. I hate fight scenes. I hate blocking and choreographing them. I hate how it doesn’t read like I’m watching a movie. I hate how it could take me hours to write a scene I can read in 5 minutes. I hate that there’s no way around it except to just not write them, or put in the elbow grease and practice.

Whatever your writing kryptonite is, don’t be too hard on yourself. It won’t ever replicate the movie in your head, but our audience isn’t privy to that movie and will be none the wiser of how this didn’t fit your expectations, because it’s probably awesome on its own. It could be a fight scene, sex scene, epic battle, cavalry charge, courtroom argument, car chase—whatever. Be patient, and kind to yourself and it will all come together.

6. Write the scenes you want to write first

And then be prepared to never use them. It can be mighty difficult working backwards from a climax and figuring out how to write the story around it, but if you’re sitting at your laptop staring at your cursor and watching it blink, stuck on a tedious moment that’s necessary but frustrating, go write something exciting. Even if that amazing scene ends up no longer working in the book your story becomes, you still get practice by writing it. Particularly if you hate beginnings or the pressure of a perfect first page is too high, you’re allowed to write any other moment in the book first.

And with that, be prepared to kill your darlings. Not your characters, I mean that one badass line of dialogue living rent free in your head. That epic monologue. That whump scenario for your favorite character. Sometimes it just doesn’t work out anymore, but even if it ends up in the trash, you can always salvage something from it, even if that’s only the knowledge of what not to do in the future.

7. “This is clearly an author insert.” … Yes. It is. Point?

No one likes Mary Sues, because a character who doesn’t struggle or learn to get everything they want in life is uncompelling. The most flagrant author inserts I see aren’t Mary Sues, they’re nerdy, awkward, boring white guys whose world changes to fit their perspective, instead of the other way around—they don’t have anything to say. I’m not the intended audience to relate to these characters and I accept that, but I don’t empathize with the so-called “strong female character” who also doesn’t have flaws or an arc either.

A good author insert? When the author gives their characters pieces of themselves. When the “author insert” struggles and learns and grows and it’s a therapeutic experience just writing these characters thrown into such horrible situations. They feel human when they’re given pieces of a human’s soul. They have real human flaws and idiosyncrasies. I don’t care if the author wrote themselves as the protagonist. I care that this protagonist is entertaining. So if you want to make yourself the hero of your book, go for it! But make sure you look in the mirror and write in your flaws, as much as your strengths.

#writing advice #writing resources #writing tips #writing tools #writing a book #writing #writeblr #fantasy #scifi

527 notes · View notes

artiststarme · 7 months

Text

A Grudge Be Held

Based on an enabling comment from @estrellami-1. Hope you guys like it and please leave me your opinions in the comments!

~*~*~*~

There are a few well known facts in the universe; the earth revolves around the sun, George Michael is gay, Tim Curry has sexy legs, and Eddie Munson holds grudges.

It wasn’t because he was a bad person or because he thought people were inherently bad, he’d just been through too much to waste his time on people that had already wronged him. He didn’t give more than one chance and if they fucked that up, well, they didn’t deserve another one.

He was usually lenient on what constituted a grudge to be held. Unless someone did something directly to him or someone he cared about, it didn’t really bother him and they certainly didn’t make his list. His parents were on there (because why wouldn’t they be?), Mrs. O’Donnell was on there because he was positive at least one of his failed senior years was due to her having a bone to pick with him, and Principal Higgins was on there too because fuck that guy.

Tommy Hagan was on the list because of a rumor started that made life hard for Eddie for awhile (it was true but needless to share), Jason Carver was on there now for starting a mob trying to kill him, and Billy Hargrove earned a spot for being an asshole to anything that moved.

A person that many people were surprised wasn’t on the list was Steve Harrington. The DnD party was shocked when they heard King Steve wasn’t an object of resentment in Eddie. But he’d never done anything out of malice to Eddie specifically. Where others saw confidence and pride, Eddie looked at a lonely and broken teen that was willing to do anything to fit in. He couldn’t hate him for that. And the time where Steve stood up for Eddie against Billy Hargrove at a drug deal gone wrong forever cemented him as a good guy in Eddie’s eyes.

After his experience with the Upside Down, psychic murders, and overall shitshow that was his Spring Break, Eddie and Steve got closer. Steve coerced everyone of authority to clear Eddie’s name with help from Robin, Nancy, and the passed Chief Hopper that apparently wasn’t actually dead. He housed Eddie and Wayne until they could find a new trailer that they could afford. Then he spent every waking moment making sure Eddie was alright and included as part of the group. In laymen’s terms, Steve saved his life.

So in true Eddie fashion, he made the internal dramatic decision that he would hold grudges on Steve’s behalf. He would be a guard dog of sorts, protecting and defending the love of his life his friend. What he didn’t consider was how difficult the task would be.

Through a new lens, Eddie saw that everyone walked all over Steve. The cashiers at the grocery store blatantly charged him extra, the customers at Family Video talked over him nearly every sentence in response to questions they asked, and teens on the street laughed at the scars in their view. Worse of all though, the Party didn’t respect him. Dustin and Mike told him several times a day how stupid he was, Nancy looked at him in pity and shut down all of his opinions, Lucas talked about not having sports in common with anyone right in front of him, and Robin kept blowing off their plans to hang with Vickie.

Through it all, Steve appeared fine. He smiled and nodded in all the right places but as soon as he thought the eyes moved on, his smile would slip to reveal something sadder. And so Eddie’s vengeance began.

He “accidentally” knocked over sales racks near the registers in the grocery store when they charged an extra $2 for milk. He keyed the cars of the teenagers that laughed at the evidence of Steve’s pain. When he saw Officer Callahan yacking at Steve for speeding, he picked up a dozen eggs and pelted the man’s house in revenge.

Dealing with the kids in the Party was trickier. His glares and barbed comebacks were clear enough for Nancy and Robin to change their ways. The kids though just weren’t observant enough to pick up on the clues Eddie tried to drop. One session of a campaign though, the perfect opportunity presented itself.

“I didn’t know there were dragons in the game. If you losers had told me there were dragons, I might’ve considered playing ages ago!” Steve exclaimed from his seat on the couch, intrigued eyes meeting Eddie’s.

Eddie smirked at him. “Oh yeah, Big Boy. You should know by now that I’m full of surprises.”

Steve blushed a little bit but as he went to respond, Mike interrupted. “Steve, you’re not even playing. You shouldn’t even be here much less interrupting the game!”

Steve’s flush turned pale and he shrunk into himself. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I can just uh, I can go. I’ll see you guys later.”

As he moved to get up though, Eddie stood and towered over the table.

“Wait Steve, you’re gonna want to see this part.” He glowered at Mike and rasped his voice to transition back to DM’ing. “A comet flies from the dragon’s cavern and lands on Sir Madeon. Roll for damage.”

“What the hell! No, you can’t do that!” Mike stammered with a dropped jaw.

“I just did, pipsqueak. Roll for damage or die trying.”

“14,” Mike muttered. He glared at Eddie then Steve before pouting in his seat.

“The comet is too large to escape from. Sir Madeon tries to run but he’s not fast enough to avoid the flying stone. It lands on his back in a fiery crumble. The intense heat eats through his flesh, bones, and organs at once leaving only his head and limbs intact, scattered amongst the rest of the Party. He dies a horrendous death and his friends are left alone with only the smell of charred remains to remember him by.” Eddie ends his tirade with a quirked eyebrow. That’ll show these little assholes what happens when they mess with him. A quick glance at Steve shows him excitement and surprise, he absolutely was not expecting that.

“What the fuck. This is supposed to be PG,” Dustin stares at Eddie in horror. “You really just killed a character in the middle of a campaign for Steve?”

“Roll stealth and damage.” Eddie tells him deadpan.

“God-fucking-dammit! Eddie, no, please…”

“Roll or face the consequences!”

“3 stealth, Nat-20 damage,” Dustin whispered with his face in his hands. The other kids watch Eddie in a mixture of confusion and aghastment. But Steve is beaming, teeth shining from ear to ear.

“The dragon hears your cries of grief and turns its burly head towards you. Its glimmering eyes reach the you and the rest of the Party and you see its scaled lips open in a human like smile. With a speed you could never have anticipated, it slithers toward you before standing on muscled hind legs and flapping its leathery wings. Its lips curl around a blue flame. The last thing you feel is a flash of ice before you see no more.

Your friends see you disappear into a pile of ash, the heat of the flame too powerful to escape. The dragon whips its tail towards the party while they stare at where you used to stand. Will the Wise can’t even list his magical staff before the weight of the tail crushes him to the ground in a pile of shattered bones and bloody sinnew.

Luther is impaled by one of the dragon’s back spikes and killed immediately. The light in his eyes fades and all he sees is a figure with a crown waving at him in the distance. Prince Stephen and his pet dragon prosper in the face of their trespassing adversaries once again but the only witnesses to the horror are erased from the Earth.”

The boys stare at him in shock while he arranges his papers and stands. “The end. Steve and I are going to the movies. You bitchasses aren’t invited and if you’re even a little bit nasty to Steve again, I’ll pulverize you in real life just like I killed you in the campaign. Think on that.”

With that, Eddie grabs the hand of a stunned Steve and drags him from the Wheeler’s basement. After that debacle, he’s sure that the kids have gotten their point. And now he’s got a movie to see with his main man.

(The kids absolutely get his point and moving forward are a lot nicer to Steve. And a little scared of how Eddie’s mind works.

Eddie holds a grudge against the kids for months and will still reference their comments when he sees fit for the rest of their lives or at least the rest of his.

And Steve? He starts dating his DM in shining armor a mere two hours later.)

My Permanent Tag List: @doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog @newtstabber @i-less-than-three-you @carlyv @pyrohonk @sherlock15 @conversesweetheart @estrellami-1 @suddenlyinlove @yikes-a-bee @swimmingbirdrunningrock @perseus-notjackson @anaibis @merricatty @maya-custodios-dionach @grtwdsmwhr @manda-panda-monium @lumoschildextra @goodolefashionedloverboi @mentallyundone @awkwardgravity1 @devondespresso @gregre369 @mysticcrownshipper @disasterlia @lillys-weird-world @messrs-weasley @orangesunsets12 @awkotaco24 @pukner @strangerthingfanfic @dangdirtydemons @bookworm0690 @hannahhook7744 @dreamlandforever @marsbars97 @precursorandthedragon @romanticdestruction @5ammi90 @death-thee-nervousqueer @panicatthediaz @justforthedead89 @futuristicnachostranger @breadboi66 @fandommaniac123

#I would like to mention that I’ve never played DnD lol #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fanfic #dungeons and dragons #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #robin buckley #nancy wheeler

1K notes · View notes

oxymorayuri · 11 days

Text

❞𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞❝

Headcanons with my favorite boyssss [ Ace | Kid | Law | Doffy ] Wordcount » 1234 (lol no way... you see it? 1234...) Info » just cute things ;3

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: Ace: qmech | Kid: skxviii | Law: oyasumi_mofu | Doffy: Hijiki_DaiXt

𝑃𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑔𝑎𝑠 𝐷. 𝐴𝑐𝑒

You both get partner tattoos instead of wedding rings but not something lame like a circle around the ring finger rather something small and personal. You have a little flame on the side of your thigh and he has one on his chest that has something to do with you. Maybe you have a devil fruit or a special weapon? It's up to you :p

You never thought you'd cry at your wedding ceremony because Ace let the most beautiful vows EVER leave his lips. His words were typically Ace and in between your tears he made you laugh. You were almost ashamed when it was your turn because you just wanted to repeat a sentence he once said to you but you changed it a bit… "I'm not interested in living a thousand years, it's enough for me to survive today with you." You spoke. Ace recognized the words immediately and remembered the conversation you shared in the past with a broad grin. He almost yanked you to him and kissed your lips even though the priest hadn't even given his blessing yet. But he doesn't care, he doesn't need the priest's blessings when he has you.

He definitely had his own thoughts about the wedding. For example, he has looked into various traditions… but it seems like he got something wrong… Instead of carrying you bridal style over the doorstep, he carried you all day. As soon as you set foot on the floor to get a new drink, he picked you up in his arms. His statement? "Come on love, when will I have the chance to carry you in your wedding dress again?". Okay that's smooth.

𝐸𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑠 𝐾𝑖𝑑

Kid probably would never have proposed to you on his own. You've been together for so long now and every time you've seen a married couple your mood has soured. You were annoyed and also disgusted and one day Killer asked you about it and in the conversation you ironically realized that you also wanted to get married lol… when you were with Kid in his workshop you casually mentioned, that you thought it would be a good idea for the two of you to get married as he was working on one of his new creations. He froze at the word marriage and the next second his machine caught fire because he held the welding rod on it for too long. You both panicked and put out the fire and you realized that he found the topic unpleasant and unnecessary, but you are you and you get everything you want, even if you have to force him! Luckily for you, Killer told you that Kid likes the idea of you committing to him forever, but pshht… otherwise Killer will lose his life.

He will send you away if you want to ask him something about the wedding planning or want his opinion. He'll just tell you that you can do whatever you think is necessary (ugh). You think it's a bit of a shame but you don't mind, you just want him to feel comfortable at his own wedding. After all, it's not just yours. But if it were up to him, he would simply put the ring on your finger and seal your marriage with a big smooch on the lips. But later in the evening you notice that he has circled options he likes or left little notes on your wedding plans and that's when you know you're marrying the right one.

he forges your rings and is quite proud of his work, but secretly nags Killer that he is unsure whether you like the rings. When he saw the sparkle in your eyes and heard your words about how much you love the rings, his heart stopped for a moment only to beat extremely fast. He wanted to marry you right on the spot, but he knows how much love you put into the planning. Happy wife happy life lol.

𝑇𝑟𝑎𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑔𝑎𝑟 𝐷. 𝑊𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝐿𝑎𝑤

A grand wedding with everyone (including the straw hats etc.) is planned, but he has other plans and takes you to the most romantic place to have a wedding ceremony just for the two of you. The party can still take place afterwards with everyone, you are a little social butterfly after all, but the wedding ceremony? That's between you and him <3

Law, similar to Ace, would want partner tattoos instead of real rings but rather in an intimate place where only both of you will see it… if you know what I mean ;) It's safe to say he'll shower your tattoo with kisses everytime when you're getting busy.

He has already seen you (without you knowing it) in your wedding dress. He knew exactly what was going on when you waltzed happily past him with a big package... And even if he hesitated for a moment, he followed you discreetly like a pretty good stalker… He peered through the gap of the door to the room you shared. You were apparently so excited that you hadn't even closed the door. He heard you squealing happily in the bathroom and without really realizing it, he held his breath until you came out of the bathroom. And then you stood there in your beautiful white dress. The feeling in his chest increased rapidly as he watched you twirl in front of the mirror like a princess. Your laughter makes him grin… "I guess she's just as happy as I am that we're getting married..." he thought to himself with a satisfied expression as he let go of the door and walked away. He leaves you a little moment for yourself and your joy, he'll see you walking towards him soon anyway. He is pretty sure that he will never forget that moment. The sight of you walking towards him will be engraved in his brain.

𝐷𝑜𝑛𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑥𝑜𝑡𝑒 𝐷𝑜𝑓𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑜

You want fireworks that paint your faces in the sky? A thousand white doves that are released when you kiss? A 10 meter high chocolate fountain? A wedding in pink? No problem. Your list is long and you get everything you want. Doflamingo will put together the perfect team to fulfill your every wish. Money doesn't matter, but you do.

You get a ring with a gemstone you've never seen before. Even if you express your doubts that you are afraid of losing this precious ring, Doffy reacts almost insulted. You are the rarest and most valuable gemstone in the world. If you lose the ring, he'll have a new one before you know it.

It's going to be a big big wedding BUT not many people are invited because there's a chance of someone ruining it. Whoever is invited is a big figure or part of the family. Everything is secured but not in an oppressive way. It all plays in the background, because if there were security guards everywhere it would ruin your perfect wedding picture. Nobody is allowed to ruin this day for you and him and if they do, they will pay for it. He also has the wedding broadcast live on TV so that everyone can see that he's marrying the most beautiful woman in the world. How extra.

I hope you enjoyed reading it. See you next time <3

𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒚𝒖𝒓𝒊 ♡

#trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #law x reader #one piece #headcanon #portgas d ace #ace x reader #eustass kid #eustass x reader #donquixote doflamingo #doflamingo x reader #one piece reader #eustass kid x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #portgas d ace x reader #donquixote doflamingo x reader #one piece headcanons #one piece x reader

595 notes · View notes

norrisleclercf1 · 1 month

Note

Can you continue the seb and charles poly where charles argues with seb on his decision to live in switzerland with his bees and never come to his races. Make it superr angstyy and you can finish it with whatever plot you want! 💗

A/N: Angst? Angst.

You could tell that it was only a matter of time before Charles cracks. The tension has been thick since you got home from the race, and soon go to Australia. Seb, bless him hasn't even noticed nor commented on how Charles has been avoiding him.

But in this moment, Sebastian was raving about the new bee farms he was thinking of building. "Oh, I'm also thinking of adding an extension to the house, for when we decide to have kids here." Your body goes tense as you see Charles freeze. He couldn't take it anymore, he just can't.

Slamming down his fork and knife he chuckles softly, shaking his head. "Something wrong, wunderschön?" Sebastian asks, as Charles tries hard not to falter in his anger, at the worry plaguing Seb's eyes. "Why are you so set on living here? Why can't we move to Monaco? Where family is?" Charles asks, it was soft but you see the change in Sebastian automatically.

This was a fight you were staying out of; you didn't need to be torn in between your first love, and your last love. "Charles, we're not talking about this. Y/n and I decided long before you that'd we'd raise our kids here." You feel the air get sucked out of the room with that one sentence.

With that one sentence, Sebastian just reminded Charles that he'd never really get a say, nor would his opinion matter because at the end of the day, you and Sebastian were married first and planned your life together long before him.

"Right, because what I say doesn't matter. It never does, does it Sebastian?" Sebastian sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "That's not what I meant, dammit Charles, I don't want my children's faces splashed everywhere."

"Our, our children Sebastian." Charles bites out and you sigh, taking the plates and heading into the kitchen to start the dishes. "No, Charles. My, children." Sebastian bites out and you even flinch hearing how harsh and cold your husband was being. "I can't do this anymore," Charles whispers and stands, you rush into the room as he rips his ring off and throws it at Sebastians face, whose gone pale.

"Charles, don't." You whimper, he turns and sighs, kissing you gently. "If you need me, I'll be home." He whispers and moves grabbing his bags he didn't even unpack and walks out of the door. You turn around and stare at Sebastian, vision blurry.

"Y/n," Your husband reaches out for you but you step back. "Don't, don't touch me." You whisper and walk down to your bedroom, crying for something you've probably lost forever.

644 notes · View notes

igotanidea · 2 months

Text

Not the same: Jason Todd x reader

requested by @miraculous-panic: NSFW: Jason or Dick just ready to eat pussy until you can't take anymore. (Jason obviously :D)

Warnings: SMUT MDNI, body insecurities, a bit of daddy issues, a bit of abuse on Jay's part if you squint.

A/N: been a while since I wrote smut, so forgive me if I'm out of practice :D

***

It’s been weeks.

Literal weeks since he touched her.

Before she met him, and when nothing was happening in the sex/love department she wouldn’t even bat an eye and would move on, ignoring the deeply hidden urges of her body, but things has changed.

The first time with him (her first time ever), with his hands on her body, his lips on her skin, moving in all the hidden places she didn’t even know existed and craved for physical affection, unlocked something in her.

And ever since she wanted more.

Greedy little girl, but can you blame her given the fact Jason knew exactly what he was doing bringing her immense pleasure, leaving her gasping and panting with his name on her sweet soft lips.

She needed more.

Not necessarily going full on, but anything.

One touch, simple kiss, gentle caress of calloused fingers on her sensitive skin…

Anything to get that sensation of being loved and craved, of feeling so close to him. Like he belonged to her and no one else.

Pretty much she turned into a giant teddy bear, wanting to be squeezed and held and hugged and wrapped in his strong arms.

Finally getting everything she didn’t have in her childhood from her forever absent, emotionally neglecting father. Care, love, affection.

Daddy issues? Maybe, but she didn’t care, purposefully forgetting the fact that she was in a relationship with a man who were absent more often than not, repeating the scheme.

It was not the same.

He loved her. And she loved him.

And she needed him.

IT WAS NOT THE SAME.

She kept on repeating that one sentence, lying awake in bed, alone, in the middle of the night, her crazy mind whispering words of doubts and uncertainty, producing crazy scenarios and making her overthinking pretty much everything that happened in the last ten years. Questioning herself and their relationship starting from day one.

IT WAS NOT THE SAME

NOT THE SAME

And she was going to prove it. To herself. To him. To the whole world. To her stupid absent father that left her and her mother when she was little girl, even if it was crazy.

She was going to make a statement the second Jason would cross the threshold of their shared apartment.

Feeling like a complete fool, but with a strong resolve to take some action she jumped out of bed and rushed to the dresser, opening the top drawer and throwing every little piece of clothing on the floor until she reached something carefully hidden at the bottom.

Very expensive and very revealing lingerie set, she bought on impulse while browsing internet. Hitting all the wrong sites that made her believe that a girl can only be loved when she was skinny and seductive. That having a little bit of junk, belly and bum automatically excluded from the group of people deserving love. That the only way to have some action was to reveal sexy, toned body.

Which she didn’t have.

The first time she wore the red lacy set and saw her reflection in the mirror tears started flowing down her cheeks, self-hatred stimming under the surface threatening to overflow.

Stupid little girl who decided she was too common to wear something so sexy.

But things has changed. She has changed. Their relationship has evolved and it was the time to try something new and gauge Jason’s reaction.

So she wore it for the first time ever, putting on a brave face.

***

A few hours later Jason was dragging himself home, tired, but miraculously not injured. Wanting nothing more than to fall on the bed next to Y/N and hold her close for whatever rest of the night was left.

His beacon of light in the darkness as cliché as it sounded.

Jason knew the words of poets, being able to recite them on call, but truth was that once he fell for her, none of them seemed even close to the truth and depth of his own feelings. Not even the most beautiful poem conveyed how she made him feel.

And just a single thought of her made him smile, forcing to pick up the pace to have even few more minutes in her presence with her body fitting so well with his. With her soul merging with his.

And he thought he was in love before, never realizing what it truly meant.

Not before her.

And he smiled to himself

***

She was waiting for him and it was not so shocking.

But the sight of her in the set that was definitely bought in Agent Provocateur, with her legs crossed sitting in the armchair with a glass of wine and thick hair swept on one side?

Jaw dropping.

Banishing fatigue in an instant.

Blood boiling.

Making his legs root to the ground, hands tremble and pants becoming tight in an instant.

She was perfect. Prefect and all for him, but he needed to proceed carefully to not let his own desire take full control and – god forbid – hurt her in process.

“Y/N” he cleared his throat taking off the shoes and stepping closer with a signature smirk that has never before took so much energy to be maintained.

“Hello Jason.” She smiled innocently “how was your patrol?”

“Uneventful.”

“So you don’t need me patching you up tonight?”

If it meant he could have her undressing him and putting her hands on his body he would lie and pretend he was dying and needing kisses in all the places.

“Nah. Not really. Like I said, I’m fine.”

“Well then, I suppose I can go back to bed.” Y/N stood up stretching her back to expose a little bit more of her breasts (still feeling a little bit weird, but getting quite content with the look in his eyes and satisfied with the way they were darting around).

“Yeah, good night Y/N.”

“Night Jay.”

“Goodnight…” he said again unable to stop looking at her.

“You already said it…”

“Yeah I just wanted to repeat it.”

“So you did.“ she took a step towards him

“I did.” He whispered closing the distance even more wanting nothing more that to touch her body that was almost shining in the room lit only by the lights from the outside. His hot breath hit her face when he was fighting the urge to not let her win.

“Goodnight Jason…” she said again, shivering a little from the closeness.

“Hm.”

“Something wrong?” she muttered not missing the way his voice dropped an octave turning into that deep growl that made her legs tremble. Every other minute of this little game she was gaining more power while Jason was loosing his mind.

“Are you trying to seduce me?” he groaned

“Where did you get that idea?”

“Just needed to make sure you know I’m not in the mood for your little games.”

“Oh.” She gasped, a little hurt. At least until she noticed the tent in his pants and cried out internally feeling the sense of victory “I know you’re spent” she rubbed his cheek “I would never do anything to overload you—”

“Go to sleep.” He hissed pulling away from her.

“Jay-“

“I said go to bed!” he yelled “Go to bed before I won’t be able to control myself anymore and-“

“Shit!” Y/N cried out in response lunging forward and kissing him, loosing the war of nerves and not giving a fuck about it.

And when his arms circled around her waist, grabbing the back of her thighs, lifting her up and wrapping her legs around his waist nothing mattered anymore.

“Tell me you want it.” His lips brushed over her jaw, nibbling on the sensitive spot behind her ear and tracing lower, down her neck.

“Tell me you want it.” Her legs and arms tightened on him, head tilting automatically to give him more access.

“What do you think princess?”

It took him three strides to get into bedroom and gently lay her down, climbing on top of her body, kissing every inch of her skin, not covered by the lingerie. Planting soft kisses on her neck, hooking fingers under the straps of her lacy bra and sliding them down her sensitive arms, inhaling her scent heading towards her cleavage, biting softly on the tops of her breasts while simultaneously cupping them through the material and squeezing gently. Getting the exact reaction he wanted in the form of quiet whimpers, calling of his name and nimble fingers in his hair.

“How expensive was it?” he muttered against her skin, lips still attached to her chest, moving his touch lower, sliding fingers up her legs, spreading them in the process, brushing his growing erection over her clothed core.

“Very expensive….”

“Is that something that should stop me?” he breathed out cupping her most sensitive part and running fingers there. “You’re already so wet, aren’t you?”

“Uh-huh….” She arched her back to him getting ready to be freed from her confinement and having her lingerie torn to pieces in one gesture.

However, Jason did something unexpected. Instead of baring her, he traced his lips lower.

Below her breast.

Over her ribs.

Kissing and brushing over the curve of her waist.

Licking her belly button.

Putting hands on the string of her panties.

Sliding them down, painfully, inch by inch, delighting in the goosbumps that covered her legs and the tremble of her limbs.

Making it extremely obvious of his intention.

“Jay-!”

“shh…” he nuzzled nose over her most intimate part inhaling the scent of her arousal “you wanted this you little minx, didn’t you?”

“I thought-“

“Oh, come on, baby.” He licked her clit once for a little bit of teasing before pulling back to look up into her eyes from between her legs. “you wore a lingerie. Which can only mean you wanted something new. Something to spice things up. Just admit it.”

“Uh-huh! Yes, yes, I wanted-“

The sentence was cut out abruptly by the sound of pleasure when he started fully sucking at her clit, waking up the volcano inside her.

“Jay!”

“That’s right love, scream my name…” he hummed, the words a little muffled by the way he was devouring her core.

“Fuck!” she pulled at his hair.

“I’m gonna eat you out so good…”

“Jason!”

He chuckled softly finding a way inside her wet core, pulling his tongue in getting the shivers, nails on his scalp, calls of his name, praises and encouragement to keep going.

“Fuck, you taste amazing.” He lapped at her juices like a starving man on the death row, enjoying his last meal. To say the whole truth he could die just like that, between her legs, sipping on her sweet nectar. “Should have done it so long ago…”

“JASON!”

“You gonna cum for me baby? Cum on my tongue?”

“PLEASE!”

“Please what?” he teased continuing the sweet assault, going deeper, harder and faster.

“MAKE ME-!” she moaned arching her back, instinctively placing her hand on her clit ready to make it faster.

“nope.” He grabbed her wrist and pin it by her side “it’s mine.” The deep animalistic voice coming from him made her shudder and buckle her hips. “Down, princess.” His other hand moved to her hip holding her down.

“please!! Please! Please!”

There. He won. Turning her into babbling mess underneath him.

Sliding a little bit up her body, so her legs ended up on his shoulders, resuming and picking up the pace, making it almost brutal, swirling his tongue, humming in appreciation, hitting just the right spot at the right angle every time, ready to go like this forever until she comes.

And long after.

Her cried and her taste when she came did not much to stop him. He was addicted, unable to peel himself from her core, rutting his own hips on the bed.

More, more, more…

Pussy drunk.

Squirt addict.

Ignoring the desperate whimpers of sensitivity and words that made no sense, gibberishing about too much. He was only just starting, focused on his own pleasure rather than hers.

“Mine.” The grip on her hips was bruising, iron-like, when he lost control and sense of his own power. “Mine. Mine.”

“mh..Jay.. J-Jay…”

“Mine…” he groaned again, licking and sucking her dry, not allowing one single drop of her juice to go to waste.

And she knew there was no way to stop him until he was fully satisfied.

And that she wouldn’t be able to walk straight next day.

And this was sure as hell not the same as anything she was used to.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd smut #red hood smut #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood x you

608 notes · View notes

alessiasfreckles · 3 months

Text

too in love to think straight

Alessia always thought she was straight, until y/n joined the team. Y/n has a crush on Alessia, but is far too shy to do anything about it. Their meddling teammates decide to help them out.

warnings: none!

A/N: based off this prompt! longest fic yet at almost 4k words, so thank you for the prompt, it definitely helped the writer's block!

------

Alessia Russo was straight. Straight as a ruler. Sometimes her teammates joked about it, teasing her for being a heterosexual female footballer, one of a kind. She had never let the jokes they made get to her, always brushing them off, not even giving them a second thought. After all, she was straight, wasn’t she?

She watched you in training, sometimes. Not in a creepy way or anything, just in a… ‘wanting to know more about you’ way. Alessia was fascinated by you, even if she couldn’t quite explain why. You had joined the team a month ago and had already earned a reputation for being extremely shy and quiet. Sometimes your teammates would place bets on who could get you to say more than a single sentence that day, which you didn’t mind, really. You knew they weren’t doing it to be mean, and that they’d stop if you asked. Despite how shy you were, you’d already found your place in the team and felt comfortable there. The girls were your friends, even if you didn’t talk much.

You were warming up in training, your hand on Steph’s shoulder as you swung your leg back and forth, when she said something that made you start giggling. The sound nearly made Alessia trip over her own feet, and when she looked up to see you grinning at Steph, she felt something flutter in her stomach.

That was normal, right? That was a thing that happened to straight people? She just really wanted to be friends with you, that was all. Right?

As the days went by, she started making an effort to talk to you more. She would coincidentally finish getting changed at the same time as you, meaning the two of you ended up walking together quite often.

“So, um, how are you settling in?” she asked the first time it happened.

“Good,” you said, smiling shyly.

“That’s good! I settled in pretty quickly too, the girls are so nice and welcoming here, you know? I had been worried when I moved that it was going to take me ages to feel at home, but now it feels like I’ve been here forever!” she rambled, and then laughed awkwardly. “Oh, sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“No, it’s okay,” you glanced up at her and gave her another smile, blushing slightly, and she smiled back.

From then on, she found herself thinking about your smile a lot. She would look for you during training, hoping to catch a glimpse of it. It was even better when it was directed at her.

----

“So we can all agree that Lessi definitely has a thing for y/n, right?” Steph said in the changing room to the few teammates that were still getting ready after the two of you had (completely coincidentally, of course) left at the same time once again.

“Wait, I thought she was straight?” Kyra asked.

“Nah, y/n’s gay,” Jen piped up. “I mean, she doesn’t really talk about it much, but she posts about pride month on instagram and stuff, and we talked about what going to pride for the first time was like a couple weeks ago.”

“No, I know y/n is gay,” Kyra said, exasperated. “I meant Lessi. She’s like, the token straight in the team.”

“Yeah, I have a feeling that our token straight isn’t as straight as we thought. Or as she thought, for that matter,” Steph grinned. “Have you seen the way she follows y/n around? Like a lovesick puppy.”

“Maybe someone should try and find out if y/n feels the same way,” Jen suggested, a sly look on her face. “Ky, you should do it.”

“What?! No way,” Steph laughed. “Ky can’t keep her mouth shut to save her life.”

“Hey!” the younger Australian protested. “Actually, yeah she’s right. I would definitely just ask her outright if she’s interested in Less. Kinda get the feeling that we might need subtlety to get that kind of info out of her.”

Just then, Viv walked back into the changing room. “What are you guys doing in here? Come on, we’re all waiting for you.”

“Viv!” Steph exclaimed. “You’d be perfect for our plan!”

“What plan?” she asked, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.

“Okay, so you’ve noticed how Less has a crush on y/n, too, right?” Jen said, grinning. “Well, we want to find out if the feeling is mutual. But, you know, since y/n’s so shy we figured that just asking outright isn’t the right approach. So…. that’s where you come in!”

“Really, guys?” Viv said, looking unimpressed. “That’s their business.”

“Oh, come on, Viv,” Steph pleaded. “Look, we all know there’s no way y/n would make any moves herself, and Less probably hasn’t even realised she likes her yet.”

Viv sighed. “I guess you have a point. But I’m not going to push her, okay? If she doesn’t want to tell me, that’s fine.”

“Oooh, this is so exciting!” Kyra squealed, clapping her hands. “Oh, but remember to be subtle!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Viv said, rolling her eyes. “Now come on, everyone’s waiting.”

----

“So, um, you’re very much straight, right?” Alessia asked Ella as they had one of their weekly facetime calls.

“Ha, yeah, unfortunately,” Ella grinned. “Why, you interested?”

“Yeah, yeah, very funny,” the blonde rolled her eyes. “As, y’know, a straight person, would you say it’s normal to, um, think about another girl? A lot?”

“Right, tell me everything,” Ella said, getting comfy. “Who is it?”

Alessia groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Y/n. The newbie?”

“Aw, yeah, she’s cute!”

“Okay, so you think she’s cute too! So, it’s a perfectly normal thing to think about someone, isn’t it?”

“Well, that depends,” Ella said with a grin. “Do you think she’s cute in a completely platonic way or in a ‘she’s cute and i want to kiss her and have sex and get married and have babies’ way?”

“Oh my god, Ella!” Alessia groaned again.

Ella laughed. “Okay, so it’s the second one.”

“I don’t know, maybe?” the blonde blushed at the thought, but had to admit to herself that it wasn’t the first time she’d thought about kissing you. “So, it’s not something straight people think about?”

“Nope,” Ella smirked.

Okay, so maybe Alessia was as straight as one of those bendy rulers the cool kids had in high school.

“Ugh, what do I do?” she asked.

“I mean, you don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” Ella said gently. “Like, about maybe not being straight, or about y/n.”

“Okay but,” Alessia started, then sighed. “Yeah, I don’t know if I want to do anything about the maybe not being straight bit. But, the y/n bit, I just, I don’t know! She’s just really fucking cute and like, really shy but when she does talk you can tell that she’s really smart and observant, and she has the cutest laugh, oh my god, the first time I heard it I nearly fell over, and I just want to be the one to make her laugh, you know? And like, I want to get to know her better. I want to know what she does when she gets home from training, what her favourite TV show is, what her family is like.”

“Well,” her best friend said. “Kind of seems like you do know what you want to do about y/n. You want to get to know her and make her laugh. Those seem like very achievable goals!”

“Yeah, I suppose,” the blonde said, frowning. Those were pretty achievable goals, actually. And technically she wouldn’t even be doing anything about her… well, her crush. She would just be getting to know her teammate. “Yeah. Thanks, Ella.”

“Anytime!” Ella said with a wide grin. “But as soon as this goes anywhere, I want to be the first to know, okay?”

Alessia let out a laugh, feeling much better after having talked to the brunette. “Deal.”

-------

A few days later, you were walking on the treadmill in the gym when Viv joined the treadmill next to you. You smiled at her, not thinking much of it, and when she gestured for you to take your headphones out you did.

“Shit, sorry, I hate it when people try talking to me when I have headphones in,” she cringed, laughing sheepishly.

“It’s fine,” you said with a small smile. You liked Viv. She was quiet too, but more confident than you were.

“I just wanted to check in, see how you were feeling. You’ve been here for what, 5, 6 weeks now?”

“5 weeks today,” you said, and she nodded. “I’m feeling good. I really like it here. Everyone has been really welcoming.”

She smiled, and it was genuine. She really did want to know if you were settling in okay. “That’s great! I’m happy to hear that. Beth will be too.”

“You two really are the mums of the team,” you teased softly.

“Ha, yeah, people say that a lot,” Viv said with a laugh. The two of you jogged quietly for a minute before she spoke up again. “So, I noticed you and Lessi have been hanging out a lot lately.”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you said, blush quickly rising your cheeks. “She’s, um, really nice.”

“She’s pretty new here, too,” the older player said offhandedly, glancing over at you. “Maybe she can show you some good spots in the area?”

“Yeah, that’d be nice,” you said, feeling your cheeks burn as you looked down at the treadmill, not wanting to meet Viv’s eye.

“I’m glad you’re making friends here, y/n,” Viv said with a kind smile, and you nodded.

-------

“Okay, yeah, she has a crush on Less,” Viv announced to the girls in the changing room. It was the same group as before, Kyra, Steph and Jen, plus Katie, Leah, and Beth, who had gotten involved now too.

“Oh my god, that’s so cute!” Steph gushed. “Wait, did she tell you that? Just like that?”

“No, of course not,” Viv said, rolling her eyes. “But trust me, okay? She likes her.”

“Alright,” Steph said, happy to believe her. “So, what’s the next step?”

“Guys, come on, you can’t meddle in this!” Leah said, standing up. “They have to figure it out for themselves!”

“Aw, come on, Lee,” Katie said with a grin. “Surely a little push is okay? After all, there’s no way y/n is gonna do anything about it. And we’re still not sure Less even knows she likes her.”

Leah stood there for a minute, arms crossed, before sighing. “Fine, a little meddling is okay. But nothing big, alright?”

The girls grinned excitedly and got to planning.

-----

Jonas clapped his hands, getting everyone’s attention.

“Okay, ladies, I want you to partner up for this next one!”

The team was close enough that things like this didn’t make you feel the same dread that it did in P.E. in high school. Partnering up now meant partnering up with any of your friends, not waiting anxiously to see if you were chosen. Still, you waited to see if anyone did choose you.

Alessia sidled up to you with a smile. “Hey,” she said.

“Hi,” you replied, smiling back.

Behind your back, Steph and Katie shot each other a knowing look and a grin.

“I meant to tell you, you played really well on Sunday,” the blonde said with pink cheeks. You weren’t sure if it was from the cold air or if she was blushing.

“Oh, thank you!” you ducked your head, blushing a little. “So did you.”

“Thanks,” she smiled. “So, um, did you have a nice weekend? Aside from the game, I mean.”

You nodded. “Yeah, it was good. I just stayed home and relaxed.”

“Yeah? What did you get up to?” she asked, eager to know more about you, but realised she might be pushing. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry-

“It’s okay,” you said, cutting her off and placing a hand on her arm, and she blushed at the gesture. “I didn’t really get up to much, to be honest. I watched some TV, read a bit, did some puzzles, baked a little. And the boring stuff, like doing some washing, cleaning. But I guess the other stuff is kind of boring too.”

“No, it’s not! It’s interesting! I like learning about you,” she said quickly, then blushed deeper pink. “Um, what kind of puzzles? Like, jigsaw puzzles?”

You laughed gently. “Oh, no, like, um, puzzle books? Things like sudoku, crosswords, that kind of thing. It’s my guilty pleasure,” you admitted.

“Wow, so you’re smart, then,” she teased with a laugh.

“Girls! Less chatting, more moving!” Jonas shouted across the field at the two of you.

“Oops,” Alessia said, grinning. “I guess he has a point.”

As you were walking back to the changing rooms after training, Jen came up from behind, clapping both of you on the back.

“Right girls, monthly movie night on Friday,” she said. “You in?”

You waited a beat to see Alessia’s reaction, before nodding.

“Great! Less, we good to do it at your place?”

The blonde rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “Do I really have a choice?”

“Nope,” Jen said with a grin. “Thanks, Less!”

She ran off, yelling to Katie that movie night was good to go, and Alessia laughed. “I’m not sure why they’ve picked my place,” she said, shrugging. “Personally I think Beth and Viv’s place is the best for movie nights. Plus, any excuse to see Myle, right?”

You nodded, smiling. You’d gone to one movie night at Beth and Viv’s place, a couple weeks after you joined the club. You’d been in awe of how close knit the team was, wanting to be a part of it, but not sure how. You hadn’t really said much that time, opting to sit on the corner of the sofa, watching everyone else around you.

“You’ll come too, right?” Alessia asked, her voice hopeful, and you felt your heart skip when you realised she was hoping that you would come, hoping you’d be at her place.

“Yeah!” you said, trying not to sound too eager.

“Good!” she said, sounding relieved.

For the next few days, you couldn’t stop thinking about the upcoming movie night. You knew it wasn’t a big deal, really. After all, it was a bigger group of the girls that were going to be there, not just the two of you. Still, that alone was a scary thought. You preferred your own company, or the company of just a few people rather than a big group.

Despite knowing that the evening was in no way a special occasion, you decided to dress a little nicer than you normally would for a night in (meaning you wore the slightly nicer leggings rather than the stained jogging bottoms you used as pjs half the time), putting your favourite perfume on to give you a boost of confidence. As you got closer to Alessia’s house, though, your stomach started tying itself in knots. You forced yourself to keep going despite how nervous you felt about being at the other player’s home for the first time, and rang the doorbell.

“Y/n, hi!” Alessia said, beaming when she opened the door. “Come in! Oh, you can leave your shoes and coat over there, if you want.”

She wouldn’t admit it, but she was nervous too. She’d spent far longer than usual tidying and preparing for the evening, and had swapped out the decorative cushions on her sofa three times before giving up.

“Am I early?” you asked when you realised you were the only one there.

“No, don’t worry! Some of the others just have a habit of being late. Half the time I tell Katie an earlier time than we’re actually planning, just so she shows up on time. Speak of the devil,” she said with a grin when another car pulled up outside.

20 minutes later, the others had all arrived as well. It was a smaller group than last time, just 9 of you, though you weren’t sure how many more than that would be able to fit into Alessia’s living room. You were a little disappointed when Katie arrived so soon after you had, enjoying the short-lived one on one time you were spending with her.

Meanwhile, Alessia and Leah were in the kitchen, getting drinks for everyone.

“So, you and y/n have been spending a lot of time together,” Leah said casually. “What’s that about?”

Alessia blushed. “We’re… friends?”

“Is that right?” Leah said with a knowing grin.

“Okay, fine,” Alessia said, easily giving in to Leah’s knowing look. She glanced over her shoulder, checking that the kitchen door was closed before continuing. “I just think that she’s really cute, okay? And yeah, maybe I want to kiss her, so what?”

Suddenly she was being hugged tightly by Leah. “This is so exciting!” the older blonde squealed, making sure to keep her voice down. “You should tell her.”

“What?! No way,” Alessia laughed, shaking her head. “I have no idea if she feels the same way!”

“Oh, come on, she definitely does!” Leah insisted. “Haven’t you noticed that you’re, like, one of the only people y/n talks to on a daily basis? Full conversations, too!”

“Pfft, that doesn’t mean anything,” the younger player said, frowning. Did it mean something?

Leah sighed. “If you say so. Just remember, though: tonight is for your own good.” she said with a wink, and left the kitchen before Alessia could ask what the hell she was on about.

She started to get an idea about 15 minutes, when Steph, Kyra and Jen all got a text message and mysteriously had to leave. 5 minutes after that, Beth checked her phone and, not particularly convincingly, said, “Oh, the neighbour has just messaged me that she can hear Myle going crazy, we should head home and check on her.”.

Alessia raised an eyebrow. It didn’t take long for Leah and Katie to make up a similar excuse. The door swung closed behind them, and she turned to smile at you sheepishly.

“And then there were two,” she said. “Sorry, I’m not sure what all that was about. This isn’t how movie nights usually go.”

“If I’m being honest, I’m kind of glad it’s just the two of us, rather than a big group,” you admitted shyly, internally cursing the blush you could already feel rising to your cheeks.

“Me too,” Alessia said with a smile. Before she could get another word out, however, the bluetooth speaker she kept in her training bag next to the door started blaring Love Story by Taylor Swift. The song was accompanied by a couple of car headlights flashing outside the window and some honks, and when the two of you looked out you could see Katie grinning from her car before she sped off, cutting off the music when she left the range of the speaker.

“Right, well, I feel like she didn’t quite think that through,” Alessia laughed, shaking her head at your teammates’ antics.

Your cheeks were pink and thoughts were rushing through your mind. Did they know you liked her? Was that why they’d picked that song? And why they’d all left?

Alessia’s phone buzzed, and she checked it to find a message from Leah, saying ‘Just tell her! You’ve got this!! x’. She quickly turned her phone off again when you glanced over, and gestured towards the TV, where the film the girls had picked was still playing.

“Want to keep watching?”

“Sure,” you nodded, though really you weren’t that interested. If it meant you got to hang out with Alessia longer though, you were all for it. You both sat down and started watching the film again, but it didn’t take long for the two of you to start chatting, the film playing in the background.

“It’s good that your family were so supportive when you came out,” Alessia said.

“Yeah, they were really sweet, actually. To be honest, I kind of think they expected it, you know? Being a female footballer and all that,” you said, then quickly blushed, realising what you’d said. “Not that, um, all female footballers are gay, of course, I mean, I know you’re, um-”

She laughed gently, blushing a little. “It’s okay, I know what you mean. I think my family were actually surprised, really, when I never showed any interest in girls,” Up until now, she thought. “I’m just gonna, um, get a drink, do you want anything?”

“Oh, no, that’s okay, thank you,” you said quickly, not wanting to make extra work for her.

Grinning, she picked up your empty glass anyway and took it to the kitchen with her. When she was in there, she pulled out her phone, quickly texting Leah, ‘I don’t know how to tell her!’. She anxiously bit her lip as she waited for a reply, not realising that the water was overflowing in the glass. She swore under her breath when she realised, but was quickly distracted when a reply came through. ‘Tell her how you feel! That’s all you have to do x’. Well. That wasn’t particularly helpful.

She went back into the living room and set the glasses down on the coffee table.

“So, when did you know you liked girls?” she asked, taking a sip of water.

“I think I always knew, really. I was just never that interested in boys, and I had a huge crush on a girl in my P.E. class in high school.”

“Oh, is that your type then? Sporty girls?” she teased, and you blushed. “Has, um, anyone caught your eye here then?”

“I, uh, I-” you stammered, cheeks burning.

She laughed nervously. “Sorry, I’m teasing. Um, actually, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

You could feel your heart pounding as you wondered where this was going. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I- well, I don’t think I am, um, straight, after all. At least, there’s at least one girl that I am interested in,” she said, sucking in a breath and looking at you with bright eyes. “You.”

“Me?” you squeaked, brain struggling to process what she was telling you.

“I’m so sorry if I’ve made this awkward, if you don’t feel the same way, I’ve never done this before with a girl, and I really didn’t mean to make things awkward, we can just stay friends if you want, I’m so so happy to just be your friend as well-” Alessia rambled, barely pausing to take a breath until you put a hand on her leg, making her stop.

“I’m, um, interested in you, too,” you said shyly, unable to meet her gaze. There was a part of you that was still wondering if this was all a big joke. When Alessia’s hand cupped your cheek, you started to feel pretty sure it wasn’t.

“Really?” she asked, lifting your head so she could look you in the eyes.

“Really,” you told her.

You both leant in, gravitating towards one another, and you could barely breathe. You’d thought about this moment, dreamt about it. Whenever the two of you exchanged glances at training, when she laughed at something you said, when your hands brushed as you walked next to each other, you’d think about what it would be like to kiss her.

Now you were finally going to find out.

#alessia russo #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo fluff #awfc #alessia russo fanfic #alessia russo imagine #hannah writes fics

740 notes · View notes

fangirl-dot-com · 4 months

Text

Chapter 16.5 - Confessions and Cars 2

I thought I'd post this as a "I'm sorry" chapter lol and I felt like you readers needed some closure.

While writing this, I also realized that I do not know how to write a kiss (due to my non-existent love life)...so if someone has suggestions - I'd gladly take them :D

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

If Arthur thought that visiting you last November before you signed a Red Bull contract would somehow end up with you in his arms, he wouldn’t change anything. Back then, you had been his best friend. And, well, you were still his best friend, but he was hoping that soon (like tonight) you’d be more.

The end credits of Cars 2 played on the tv in the dark room. Most of the drivers (including but not limited to Lando, Oscar, Lewis, Daniel, Pierre, Charles, and Max) – maybe all of the drivers, who had come to visit you after your release from the hospital, had all left by now. A completed Lego Porsche 9-11 sat on the little counter by the basic coffee machine.

Now, it was just you, whose eyes were slowly drooping, and Arthur, who hadn’t been able to take his arms off of you since you got to the hospital in the first place.

Arthur, who had held you hand as the doctor put an IV in, because he knew your fear of needles.

Arthur, who had extra hair ties on his wrist, because he knew you hated to have your hair on your neck right after races, no matter what.

Arthur, who had called ahead to the front desk to specifically ask for a copy of Cars 2 be delivered to the room.

Arthur, who ubered your exact McDonalds order because you mentioned the craving once while you were still under some strong pain medication.

Arthur, who was your best friend, but you honestly wanted to be some more.

Your brain had been running a million miles since your car flipped into the barriers.

“Are you ready to go to bed yet?”

But his voice, was able to stop all thoughts.

You only let out a sigh in response. Arthur didn’t want to rush you, so he just picked the remote up and started your comfort movie over again.

Yet, you didn’t want to watch the entire thing over again.

“I was scared.”

Arthur immediately paused the movie, but kept his eyes in front.

“I watched the sky cross the opening. And then it just, hurt.”

His arms tightened around you. Yet, it wasn’t painful.

“I blacked out for a while. And then when I woke up, all I heard,” you turned to look at the boy in your arms, “was you, calling for me.”

Tears started forming in both yours and Arthur’s eyes. You shuffled a bit closer to him, getting even closer.

Arthur took a deep breath.

Hours before, he was ready to confess it all once you had gotten your first place trophy. He had it all planned out. But then, his world stopped the moment your back tyre clipped the first kerb and then you rolled.

“Y/n,” he started. This time, his eyes met yours. The TV forgotten in the background. In this moment, Arthur was glad that everyone else had left.

You waited with baited breath, urging him silently to continue.

“Well, I had this big plan, for after your race. And now, sitting here, I just know one thing and one thing only.”

You cocked your head in confusion. Yet, your heart was wanting him to speak the once sentence you’ve wanted to hear for forever.

“I love you. And when you didn’t respond,” he took your hands in his, “I wanted to die. And I know that might sound extreme, but at that moment, I knew I didn’t want a life without you in it. I also know that we’ve only known each other for a little more than a year but…”

You decided to interrupt him. “You’ve been my best friend for the majority of that year.”

He nodded with you, heart a bit dejected since you hadn’t confessed right after.

“I’ve never had a best friend, before you. And, I also couldn’t imagine a life without you. And Thur…”

He didn’t let you finish.

His lips met yours in a fervent kiss. You had to take a second to reel in your thoughts, but you kissed back. Because in this moment, you didn’t want anything to change. A large exhale left your nose.

You were hungry for a race win.

Arthur was hungry for your love.

His hands moved from holding yours to gripping your sides. And well, in true Arthur fashion, he gripped a bit too hard as a hiss left your lips.

His wide eyes looked right at your with concern. “I am so sorry.”

And before he could start to ramble in broken French, you pecked his lips. Well, that shut him up.

“It’s ok,” you whispered, trying to convince him. “And I love you too. Maybe a bit too much.”

Arthur sighed in relief and pressed his forehead against yours. “You do not know how happy that makes me to hear.” His words were a bit jumbled and his accent was heavy, but you got the gist.

“What now?”

Maybe it was your fears and doubts, but if this changed things, you’d rather not continue. Because you’d rather be best friends than lose him.

Arthur shut his eyes, smiles, and cocked his head. “I was hoping you’d be my girlfriend.” He gave you another sweet kiss, one that you reciprocated with a smile.

“Well then,” another kiss, “ask me.” A smirk replaced the smile.

Arthur leaned back and took your hands back into his and sat up straight. “Y/n?”

You let out a giggle.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

You quickly pressed up against his face. Not in a kiss sense way. More like, you missed and just smashed your face against him. He tried to keep you upwards, but you pushed him down and fell on top of him. Another hiss left your lips, but a laugh covered it. You gently rested your head on his chest as your attention was back to the movie.

“Yes. I will be your girlfriend Mr. Leclerc.”

Arthur just let you snuggle back into him as he played the movie for a second time. Just as Mater was about to be reunited with Lightning McQueen, a thought suddenly crossed your mind.

“What are we going to tell Max?”

April 9, 2024

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 through it all, nobody gets me like you do

liked by y/n.nation, f1_fanatic, olliebearman, and 59,294 others

b0x_b0x UM GOOD MORNING? NOT EVEN A HELLO?

maxiel_lover babe, wake up, y/n just did a soft launch

y/n_nation Arthur isn't in the likes...

y/nxarthur I fear this is the end of the friendship?? y/n-on_top why would it be the end... y/nxarthur who knows, Arthur always likes her stuff and comments. maybe he doesn't like the boyfriend

oscarpiastri rue, when was this?

mcLaren_fan even Oscar doesn't know? logansargeant get in line of who doesn't know

olliebearman mother?? pick up your phone please

maxverstappen1 what the kid said, pick the phone up

box_box_official and the plot thickens

change_ur_f-car y/n not picking up her phone and Arthur isn't in the likes, what is this silly season?????

Big Racer

It's Arthur Isn't it??

Little Racer

who snitched

Big Racer

Kid, he looks at you like you hung the sun It doesn't take much sleuthing to find out

Little Racer

Please don't tell It's so new And I don't want to risk it

Big Racer

My lips are sealed But I do have one question Do I need to give you the talk?

Little Racer

MAX!?

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @agent-curt-mega @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @cashtons-wife @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @cassie0sstuff @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19

#arthur leclerc x reader #f1 x driver!reader #platonic grid x reader #arthur leclerc fluff #arthur leclerc imagine #arthur leclerc fanfic #arthur leclerc #arthur leclerc x y/n #f1 imagine #formula 1 x you #f1 x reader

627 notes · View notes

larluce · 3 months

Text

Arthur travels back in time to save Merlin (from becoming a tree) AU

LINKS TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THIS AU HERE: PART 1 , PART2 (You're here) , PART 3

The king of Camelot goes to visit his magic tree before his next battle. This isn't new. He always visits it. But it will be the last time he does it.

Arthur: (caressing the bark of the tree with a hand)It's finally time. I'm sorry it took so long. (sighs) And I'm sorry I have to do this.

He knows he's being selfish. Camelot is better than ever, his people is happy and yet he's going to war, risking this era of peace. A war he knows he won't come back from. But it's necessary.

Gwen: (arriving) Arthur...

Arthur: I won't change my mind, Guinivere

Gwen: I know. I just want to understand. Arthur, why? The price is too high and the chance it might work too slim. And even if it does work, you are risking that everything you know, everything you built will never happen.

Arthur: It's a risk I'm willing to take. I can prevent so many things from happening, not only Merlin's fate, but Gawain's, Elyan's, Lancelot's-

Gwen: Don't pretend you're not doing this just for him, Arthur, I'm not a fool.

Arthur: ...

Gwen: He wouldn't want you to do this. And you know it.

Arthur: Yeah, well, he didn't care about what I wanted when he made that stupid deal.

It's been ten years since Merlin saved his life and was cursed to be a tree forever as a payback. He was now a majestic beautiful tree in the royal garden and the most valuable national treasure in Camelot due to its magical properties: It could give fruits with the ability to cure all ills and the most serious wounds, but also could give ones with the most letal poison. Its wood was the finest. Once it let some branches fall for its king before an important battle and the weapons that were made with them are still as good as new to this day. Though Arthur did his part, he knows Camelot probably would not have obtained the title of the greatest, richest and most prosperous kingdom if it weren't for his Merlin.

However, not everything was sunshine and rainbows. Like every treasure it was also coveted by everyone who wanted to use it for their own selfish purposes. Kingdoms envious of his power sent spies to try to steal its fruits, its branches and even to try to cut it down to leave Camelot defenseless. Others even tried to invade Camelot just to posses the magic tree, but Camelot's army was the strongest in all Albion so they never could and soon they stopped trying.

There was a time they almost got too close though. Once Arthur found a man holding an ax stuck deep in Merlin's trunk. He has gone so mad with fury, he almost beat the man to death if it weren't because his knights stopped him before he made the final blow. He was still livid after that, but he let Gwen handle the man's trial, because he knew he wouldn't be reasonable in the state he was in. In the end the man was sentenced to beheading. It was what the law decreed since touching the King's tree was by law an act of treason. The king who sent the spy had to make a public apology and give monetary compensation to avoid a war. Arthur did make sure the spy's head was cut of with his own ax though. Later, when he was alone with his tree, Arthur cried because he almost lost Merlin again. The king apologised to him over and over again between sobs and cried until he fell asleep at the tree's roots.

It was then when it hit him. One day he would die and there won't be anyone to protect Merlin from greedy people who will only use his power for their own gains. Merlin would be at his new owner's mercy and the one after that, and the one after that, forever without being able to do anything about it. The mere thought made Arthur sick to his stomach.

No, he won't allow that to happen.

Gwen: (with teary eyes) Aren't we happy?

Arthur: Don't say that. You have always made me happy.

Gwen: (laughs weakely) But he made you happier, didn't he?

Arthur: ...

Gwen: You never told me. Which were Merlin's last words.

Arthur: I love you... he said I love you.

Gwen: Oh... (smiles) I get it now. Alright I'll help you. Just promise me something.

Arthur: Anything.

Gwen: Don't feel bad if you can't prevent other people from dying. In fact, you don't have to do it. Just save Merlin.

Arthur: But-

Gwen: No, you have done so much for this kingdom and sacrifice so much. (cradling his face) You owe us nothing and you owe me nothing, alright? Just be happy.

They hugged each other tightly and they share their last kiss and I love you before Arthur finally went to bloodiest battle he'll ever had in his life. And, after killing 100 hundred enemy soldiers with his blade, the king of Camelot died at the early age of forty.

Later Percival and Leon retrieve the king's corpse and bring it before their queen who doesn't share a tear despite being broken inside. She orders for his late husband to be buried next to his tree instead of burned in a pyre, proclaming that's what the king would have wanted. The real reason however is more complex than that.

The night after the funeral, she secretly brings the druids her husband consorted for years to the royal garden for the ritual to be made. Before the tree, as was planned, is the Ancient Round Table of the Ancient Kings.

Druid1: A sword with the blood of 300 hundred man.

Gwen: (gives excalibur to him)

Druid2: Three dragon scales.

Percival: (gives them to her)

Druid3: And the corpse of a king. We have everything.

Leon: Will this really work?

Druid1: This ritual had only worked once in the times of the ancient kings and only because it was done by three of the most powerful sorcerers of that time. We are not that powerful.

Druid2: However, we have a great magic source (she points the tree). So it might work.

It worked! That's Arthur's first thought when he opens his eyes again and finds himself in his room 20 years younger.

....

HIII!! First of all I want to thank you all for giving the first post so much love! I was truly shocked because I didn't think the AU was that good, so I'm really glad you liked it. I hope this kind of sequel/prequel? was of your liking too.

I don't think I'm going to make this a full fic yet, but I can make snippets like this about this AU until then.

What else would like to see happening in this AU? Let me know in the comments or reblogs ;)

#merlin bbc #merlin #bbc merlin #merthur #merlin fic #merlin fanfic #merthur fic #merlin prompt #arthur and merlin #merlin and arthur #merthur prompt #merthur fic rec #merthur fanfic #Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU

435 notes · View notes

loveindefinitely · 4 months

Text

༊*·˚ FOREVER WINTER (IF YOU GO) — task force 141 x reader

06 — PULL A TRIGGER, CLIMB A MOUNTAIN

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + (non-endgame phillip graves)

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, enemies to lovers, slow burn, polyamory, ghostsoap, pricegaz, alerudy, heavy angst, requited unrequited love, graphic violence

series masterlist. read on ao3. read on wattpad. fanfic playlist.

<- previous part | next part ->

Graves watches you, a sleazy smirk on his face as he sits in the helicopter, blood dripping from his forehead and empty rifle in hand.

With a wink, he chimes in through your channel, “See you when you’re useful again, baby.”

Three hours earlier.

“Change.”

Looking up, you give the hulking man the most annoyed expression you can muster, cocking your hip and folding your arms over your chest. He, in response, only raises a brow and folds his own arms, a clear mocking of your own stance.

Everyone else is already in the other room, checking over weaponry and making plans. They’re loud enough to be heard here, jovial laughter and quickly-spoken Spanish filtering in. A song plays, too, a nice kind of melody that you find yourself enjoying.

“I usually need a shot or two first,” you snark, making no move to take the folded clothes from the balaclava-clad man. “You buying?”

As he shoves the uniform into your chest, you shoot Ghost a nasty glare.

“We have stuff we need to do without you,” he quips, pushing against your shoulder hard enough to have you taking a step back. “That uniform’s too recognisable.”

“What, the American flag’s too much for you?” You lean in once more, shoving your own hand against his chest. He doesn’t budge. “I deserve to be involved, when I’m giving you intel. This whole exclusion bullshit reminds me of kindergarten.”

“Then change, and stop acting like you belong in one,” Ghost snaps, and with one final look your way, storms out of the main room, slamming the wooden sliding doors shut behind him as he does.

You’re alone, now.

The room is vast, and at the small table still sits the laptop.

You’d… just. Done that. Threatened the very man who had taught you everything you know, the very man who had practically adopted you after your mother’s death. The very man of whom you’d just sentenced to death by your own hand. Your own lit match.

“Fuck,” you hiss, burying your face in your free hand.

This was the first time you’d had true solitude since. Well. It might’ve only been a day, but everything that’s happened has made it feel like years. Your throat itches from the knife wound, and you can feel your ribs’ bruising when you inhale.

“Fuck,” you curse once more, looking to the sliding doors.

After the call with Shepherd, the four men had been… well, they’d all had a very individualised response.

Soap had brought you in with an arm around your neck, ranting about how ‘badass’ you had been. Gaz had joined in, ruffling up your hair, placing a hand on your shoulder and asking if you were okay.

You’d said yes.

It had been a lie.

Ghost, without a word, had left to check over his magazines. Price had given you a firm nod and a pat on your back before, he too, left to the other room to sort things out.

“Lucky yer on our side, hen,” Soap had joked goodnaturedly. Gaz had rolled his eyes, saying, “You’re just happy your little Sweetheart can take you in a fight.”

Soap had immediately tackled him to the ground, and that was that.

Now, you stood, lone in the vast space of the room. It was still very early morning, the quiet sound of birds outside mixing with the rambunctiousness of the Los Vaqueros on the other side of the doors. Soft light filters in through the boarded up windows, casting over you in an odd haze.

Dropping the uniform onto the table, your brows furrow when you notice not only the 141’s standard uniform, but also a balaclava not unlike Ghost’s own.

The fabric is oddly soft as you run your hand over it, the paint cracking slightly against the nylon. Putting it aside for now, you then look over the uniform. A black long-sleeve compression shirt, baggy beige cargo pants. They’re definitely a bit too big for you, but admittedly, Ghost was right. It’d be too easy to spot you on the field if you were in Graves’ uniform.

Looking around the room, as if to cement the fact that you were alone, you quickly change, swapping out your bloody uniform for the new one.

It’s when you’re about to pull on the shirt that you look down, seeing the bruises lining your stomach. From the fight with Soap, or from one of your confrontations with the Shadows, you aren’t sure. Pressing softly against one, you can’t help a small grunt at the burst of pain.

You pull the compression shirt over your head, the fabric tight against your skin. How he’d had your size for the shirt and not the pants, you weren’t sure, but you weren’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Pulling over the new vest, you transfer all of your old items into it, finding this design much nicer. Not as constricting against your breasts, designed more unisex than Graves’ had been.

Grabbing the balaclava, your feet carry you to the sliding doors, and you open them with little struggle.

You nearly stumble when you find all of the men within pulling on their own masks, stopping in your tracks at the sight. Ghost and Price’s backs are to you, and when you see Ghost pulling on one of the same masks, everything clicks.

He hadn’t wanted you to see his face – had used getting changed as a distraction.

And yet, here were the Los Vaqueros, some of which had never even spoken to Ghost, having the privilege. It shouldn’t make you angry, you shouldn’t care, but you can’t help the onslaught of rejection that floods your system.

When you step forward, into their line of sight, you straighten your spine and take out your gun from its holster, reloading it in precise movements, not looking down at it once. When the magazine clicks into place, you narrow your gaze on Ghost.

“Are we getting this done or having a fashion show?”

“That’s cold,” you murmur, eyes squeezed shut as war-torn fingers swipe grease paint around your eyes, careful in their placement. You sway when the vehicle drives over a pothole, but the fingers continue their ministrations without pause.

Price chuckles softly, wiping his thumb underneath your eye. “Used to do this for Ghost every other day,” he says under his breath, collecting more paint from the pot and continuing to spread it across the upper half of your face.

You’re in the back of a van with both Price and Gaz, Alejandro behind the wheel as you head back to his colonised base.

“You look like one of us now,” Gaz chimes, to your right. Watching you both carefully, his own paint already done, he leans back into his seat. “Uniform, mask… we’ve corrupted you, love.”

You roll your eyes beneath your eyelids. “Good luck with that.”

“Don’t test me,” he laughs, at the same time that Price pulls away once more, looking you over, before deciding that more paint will be needed.

“Feel like a kid at a fair,” you muse, earning a soft chuckle from Price. “Do I get glitter too?”

“Maybe if you’re a good girl,” Price jokes softly, and you let out a laugh of your own. Internally, you register your cheeks heating at the comment, a part of you yearning for such praise from the man. If it didn’t mess up your paint or cause the two to give you weird looks, you’d slap yourself.

“Can’t believe you’re Graves’ Colonel,” Gaz admonishes, and you barely restrain a huff of annoyance. He corrects himself. “Were. Man, he did not deserve you in his ranks. You probably would’ve done better as Commander than he ever could.”

You let your lips curve into a somewhat appreciative smile, eyes still shut as Price continues his studious work. “Believe it or not, we all loved him. Behind the scenes, he treated us pretty well. The guys, anyway.”

You can’t see it, but Gaz and Price share a knowing look, both of them raising their brows. Your eyes remain shut throughout their small, silent exchange.

“How so?” Price asks, gruff, and the tone encourages you to tell the truth.

“Well,” you swallow, unsure of how to approach the issue. You never have, never felt a reason to. “Just. Small things. Jokes, and stuff. I’m the only woman in the Company, actually–”

“What?” Gaz blurts out, not seeming able to stop himself. “You’re serious?”

You let out a somewhat self-deprecating chuckle. “...Yeah? That’s pretty normal in military jobs, y’know. Didn’t think it was that weird. At least I’m a Colonel.”

“You don’t think that’s… weird?” Price asks, and it’s only then that you realise he’s stopped painting your face. You blink open your eyes. “The only woman in his Company, and she’s his Colonel?”

Chewing on your inner cheek, you shake your head. “I was one of the very first to be hired by him. We… He was my partner. In nearly every sense of the word,” you admit, a small truth. “I mean. I don’t think that I loved him. Just. Never really had anyone else.”

“How old were you when you joined Shadow Co?” Gaz asks, slowly, carefully.

You mull it over, before supplying an easy answer. “Eighteen, or so. He was twenty-seven when he started, and –”

“That’s so fucked,” Gaz curses, burying his face in his hands. “Seriously. He’s a fucking asshole.”

You’re desperate for a change of topic, anything else but this. Not now, not when your wounds are too fresh, not when you’re about to come face to face with him again. With a deep breath, you divert the situation.

“Am I done?” You ask, looking to the window and trying to catch your reflection to no avail.

“...Yeah,” Price breathes, “You’re done.”

Easing back into your spot, you find your leg bouncing once more, the adrenaline of the upcoming mission keeping you antsy and energetic. You haven’t slept in over twenty-four hours, but you somehow find yourself more awake now than you had been hours ago.

Resting his hand on your knee, Gaz gives you a reassuring smile. “You ready?”

Letting out a low, unsure exhale, you find yourself nodding. “Yeah. I think so. I know what I’m going to say to him. I’m. He’ll come around.”

Gripping your mask in your hand, you move to pull it over your head, the fabric snugly fitting around your skin. It’s an odd sort of comfort, a way of protecting yourself from the emotional wreck that this mission will create. For the first time, you think that you can understand the attachment Ghost has to it.

“If we kill ‘im,” Price starts, but when you instantly flick your gaze to him, starts to backtrack, “If. If it comes down to it. You can’t hold it against us.”

You just check over your ammo, your cartridges, before simply replying.

“I’ll kill him myself.”

“We won’t make you do that,” Gaz says, adamant and firm as he leans in closer to you. “You don’t have to kill ‘im. I know most of us are wanting to do the honours, anyway.”

“I know Soap and Alejandro are just about begging to,” you acquiesce, but you find yourself focusing on the gun in your hands to reset your mindscape anyways. “But. It’s different. If he’s really done all of this… I want closure.”

“You’ll get your closure. Bloodshed or not,” Price pats your back, and you give him a small tilt of your lips, before realising that your mask covers the movement.

“You still good to split with Price and meet with the other team from the helo, hermana?” Alejandro calls from the front, turning slightly to look to you. You give him a thumbs up, and even with his mask on, you can tell he’s wearing a toothy smile.

“Your gun all good?” Gaz asks, jerking his head to the weapon. “Ammo in your pockets, cartridge full?”

Pulling your free hand into a gun gesture, you smile.

“Pew.”

It’s with the weight of the world on your shoulders that you watch Price’s helicopter get shot.

“We’re hit! We’re hit!” Price calls through your shared radio channel, his voice frantic enough to have you skidding to a stop. Distantly, you think you can hear Ghost say something, but it’s quickly shadowed by Price’s, “Going down. We’re going down!”

You’re about a hundred feet away from where Rodolfo and Soap stand, the two also seeming to pause behind a warehouse of some sort.

When you see Soap move to push Rodolfo up the wall, you run as fast as your legs will take you to their position, calling out to them, “I’m coming with!”

“Thought you weren’t making it, cariño!” Rodolfo calls out as you fall alongside them, your heartbeat raging in your ears.

“Can’t get rid of me that easy,” you jest, then pause when you see Ghost to your side. Jerking your head to the wall, you ask, “Need a personal invitation?”

“Price and the pilot need help. You three finish this,” he shakes his head, before turning and leaving for the crash site. Shrugging, you spin back to where Rodolfo’s extending his hand to help you up, which you accept, reaching the top of the wall and swinging your right thigh over it, straddling the brick.

Extending your arm down, you pull Rodolfo up, Soap taking his other hand in a firm grip. When Rodolfo swings around to sit between you both, he curses under his breath.

“Look!” Soap hisses, and when you do as he says, your own stomach falls down to the dirt floor beneath you.

“That’s not ours,” Rodolfo murmurs, and you can barely find your voice.

“A tank,” you say, mindlessly, watching on as a fucking tank pulls into the training area of the compound. “Graves… he has a fucking tank?”

Neither of the two respond, both instead jumping off of the wall, falling into a crouch as they land. They both extend hands to you, more of a supporting gesture than anything, but you don’t take them as you too land on the other side of the brick, entering the training area.

“Ye ready for this?” Soap asks the two of you, a hint of mania creeping onto his blood-flecked face.

“Hell yeah,” Rodolfo breathes, before looking to you with a friendly smile. Ruffling your hair, a familiar gesture, now, he squeezes the nape of your neck. “If you come out of this alive, hermana, we could use you in the Los Vaqueros.”

You bark a laugh, stunned, almost, before shaking your head. “You should talk to your boss about recruiting people, first.”

Rodolfo shrugs. “Ale likes to make me happy.”

“Interviews can happen later, aye?” Soap chuckles, and the three of you look to the tank once more. “Bigger fish to catch, and allat.”

You go to say something else, when –

“Didn’t realise you boys were into kidnapping women now. That’s a bit sketchy, ain’t it?”

Graves. He’s – he’s got a radio, he’s talking, he’s here, he’s. He’s fucking with you, trying to play mind games, trying to break you all over –

“Can’t wait to bake this bastard,” Soap grunts, and you find your footing once more. Sure, you were ready for battle, but your entire reason for being here was to talk to him. Get him to realise his mistakes, come forward, go back to the man you knew.

Rodolfo and Soap are running somewhere, doing their part, and you –

“Is what they said true?” It’s the most important question you have right now. The answer you yearn for.

A moment passes.

“Where did you go, gorgeous? When’d they get ya? Did they blackmail you in Las Almas?” He diverts, and you tighten your grip on your gun, swallowing your litany of curses.

“Answer my questions, Commander. Is. What they said. True.”

“It doesn’t matter, baby. Remember where your loyalties lie,” Graves takes on a sweeter tone, a more… condescending one, you think.

“Please,” you find yourself whispering, begging for him to just. Break this nightmare, rebel against it, be Phillip. “Please tell me this isn’t really you.”

“Oveja pequeña,” he coos, and you swear your spine erupts in hives, “I’m still your Phillip. You’re the one who’s changed – look at you, running off with the 141. I’m disappointed.”

You erupt, then, like a dormant volcano, finally gathering the final push to let lava reign free.

“I’m going to fucking kill you! You just killed fathers, tore apart families! I fucking hate you!” You yell into the radios, no tears falling, merely anger and vengeance clouding your vision.

“Don’t forget that you are under my orders. Whether you’re in my bed or not, you’re my Colonel,” he seethes back, and like a shot while you’re already down, you realise that this is a hopeless cause. You weren’t going to save Shepherd. You weren’t going to save Graves.

All you had left to save was yourself.

They’d lied to you, an indefinite amount of times, for how long, you weren’t sure. Your whole relationship – was that a lie, too? Was your entire life?

“I’m your second in command,” you finally admit out loud, hiding behind a crumbling wall as the tank shoots just a few feet away from you. “So when you get taken down, guess who comes out on top?”

“Listen to yourself!” He shouts, his voice cracking in his sudden anger, “Listen–”

“No, you listen!” You find yourself crying out, taking a few shots at the tank, allowing Soap and Rudy to do their part. “Listen to me, Phillip. You’re going to regret this – all of this. When were you going to tell me you were under Shepherd’s orders, huh? How long have you been fucking me over!”

“Whenever you first came around my cock is my guess, baby,” he responds, icy and cold.

His words only seem to further encourage you to breaking point, adding more and more fury to rush down your veins like its very own hit of morphine.

“Guess what, Commander?”

“Don’t bull–”

“That first time, and every time since?”

He doesn’t bother to interrupt you.

“I faked it.”

With that, you switch Channels to one shared with all of you.

You had heard everything you needed to, and along with it, realised something of vital importance. A small inconsistency that changed everything.

“Ghost team,” you say, neutral and unforgiving, “Graves isn’t in the tank.”

“What’re ye talking about?!” Soap calls through, exuding exhaustion, the sound of explosions crackling through behind his vocals. “He has to be–”

“He’s not,” you say, firm, absolute in your decision. “I don’t know where he is – but he’s not in there. Not his style, anyway – prefers to be in the spotlight.”

“What do we do then, hermana?” Rodolfo asks, sounds strained just as Soap had.

Your answer is easy. “You guys focus on the tank – I’m taking Graves down.”

With that, you run for the wall once more, and with nothing but your intuition, you know exactly where you’ll find your ex-Commander.

As per usual when it comes to your gut-feelings, you’re correct.

It’s within the hanger on the compound that you find him getting into a helicopter – a wound on his forehead and tactical glasses on. Somehow, he’s already found himself injured – a small, selfish part of you satisfied with that information.

“Commander!” You yell as you break through the small window of the hangar, using the butt of your gun to do it. It’s as the door to the heli shuts that he notices you – and you switch back on to his radio.

“This is your last chance,” he grits out, his voice thin and furious. “Before this becomes more than a… domestic fight.”

You wince as the blades start turning, taking shelter behind one of the cargo boxes, wary of any bullets being shot your way. “The only domestic thing about us was your inclination for treating me like your little wife.”

“Always did think you’d look pretty barefoot and pregnant,” he muses, and oh, have you never wanted to kill a man more in your life.

“Aww,” you mock, as the blades’ whirring gets louder and shots echo around you finally, “See, I think you’d look pretty bleeding out at my feet.”

“You did look rather good at mine,” he retorts, and your emotions get the better of you as you peek, shooting three Shadows behind the heli with easy headshots. You’re barely there for two seconds before a burning pain echoes through the side of your shoulder, and you duck down once more.

“Couldn’t even get off,” you pant, relentless to the very end even as your breaths turn into heavy falls of your shoulders, “Was like fucking a Ken doll.”

“You’ve always been a petty bitch,” he snaps, and you smirk.

“I am a bitch, you’re right. And you know what bitches do when someone taunts them? They bite.”

You raise your gun, and for a scary, short second, you realise that blood is flowing in a stream that’s causing the sleeve of your black shirt to grow sticky and damp. Now isn’t the time to care, however, as you take aim at one of the windows of the heli.

Pulling the trigger, the bullet bursts through the window, glass shattering and falling to the ground. It’s as soon as it does, however, that it takes flight, boosting in its acceleration immediately.

Fully peeking, this time, you watch as the helicopter quickly takes off, and even if you had the capacity to shoot at it, it wouldn’t hit the intended target, not with your trembling hands.

Graves watches you, a sleazy smirk on his face as he sits in the helicopter, blood dripping from his forehead and empty rifle in hand.

With a wink, he chimes in through your channel, “See you when you’re useful again, baby.”

You get one final sentence in, before the radio cuts off. Even though you can’t see him from this distance, you’re sure you’re making eye contact as you deal your final blow.

“My callsign isn’t baby. It’s Sweetheart.”

taglist. @lilpothoscuttings @jng-yuan @iruzias @insatiablekittie @1wh4re1nova @kaoyamamegami @supernaturalstilinski @inthemiddle0feverywhere @msecho19 @nogood-boyo @alfa-jor @lalashhyl @letmeapologise @honeybeeznutz @1mawh0re @oreo-cream @lalashhyl @someonepleasedateme @letmeapologise @uhhellnogetoffpleasenowty @inarabee

author's note. to everyone asking about the covid, its prettyyy bad haha. i can hardly leave my bed and need 3 blankets in the peak of summer!

at least that means i have downtime to write before my life gets VERY hectic. thank you all for your support again, the feedback and praise for the last chapter made me feel 10x better and i genuinely appreciate you all SO much. thank you thank you thank you!

559 notes · View notes

mommypieck · 8 months

Text

grass is getting greener

✯⁠ lawn mower!jean x reader

✯⁠ warnings: cheating (r on husband), rough, almost mind break, creampie, doggy, jean has big ego

"Daddy bought you this house?" Jean - your lawn maintenance asks you. Your first instinct is to roll your eyes, he's been helping you with the grass for a few weeks now, and he always keeps his shitty attitude.

"No, husband," you answer, wrapping yourself into a robe even deeper. It's hot as hell out, but you don't want some guy to see you in your swimming suit.

"I only talk to him on the phone. He's rarely in here?" It's your husband's fault for not being home when the workers are around. Basically, he´s never home. You always have to settle for a glass of wine by yourself or your vibrator, which is starting to break by the number of times you have used it.

"Don't assume he is a bad husband just because he isn't here." The sentence makes him laugh out loud. Do you think he might fuck you? he wanted to be good, but after you said that, he might change his behavior.

"I like your attitude," he says, looking up and down your body. You're seriously very pretty, you might want someone to fuck it out of you."

Your eyes widen at what he said. "Excuse me?" you ask him, standing up from your chair. You can't believe he would say something like that.

"I said you might want someone to fuck it out of you."

"Does he know how to fuck like that, huh?" he smacks your ass, ramming inside of you even harder. Each of his thrusts knocks the wind right out of your lungs. This guy has a talented dick for sure.

He wishes to see you from behind, he's not gonna lie, you have a pretty face, and those tits are amazing. He can see how they swing with each thrust, and Jean wants to see them up closer.

"I fucking love this pussy, look at how much you cream on my cock." he looks down at the white ring at the base of his cock. Of course, you would get this wet for him. he groans when he hears the wet sound your pussy makes now and then. It sucks him in so tightly, he might think you want him to be inside of you forever.

"how long has it been since he fucked you?" he asks you, but you're too overstimulated to answer. Your head falls on the ground, cheek pressed against the cold tiles. He isn't having any of what.

"Answer me." he grabs you by your hair, wrapping his arm around your neck to keep you up.

"8 months." You manage to choke out. He laughs at your response, his lips pressing against your neck. You scream when he bites the side of your neck playfully.

Jean knows you're seconds before cumming and seconds before he breaks you.

"Brace yourself." You are confused about what he means until he slams inside way harder than before. He lets go of your body, which falls on the floor. He presses your head into the floor as he abuses your cunt the best he can. He's chasing his orgasm too but is waiting for you to cum first.

You're so close, you can feel the burning desire rushing through your veins.

"I'm cumming." you squeak, letting all the pleasure out. He slips out of you when your body falls to the ground, shaking. It's the most powerful orgasm you have had in a while. You lay down on the floor, breathing hard as you try to recover from the mind-blowing orgasm.

"I'm not done with you," Jean says before you're yanked by your ass. He slides his cock inside of you one more time. He needs a little more, just a few thrusts. A loud moan escapes him as spurts of his cum fill your insides. Your pussy was the best one he had in a while.

"Was I too rough?" he asks you as he pulls out. You both look at the cum that leeks out of you with a smile.

"It was fine, but you almost broke me," you tell him. you both sit next to each other on the cold floor, thinking about what just happened.

"I'm Jean, you know my name already." he introduces himself, holding out his hand. You chuckle at his dorkiness, of course, you know his name.

"I'm y/n." Your hand shakes his as both of you stare at each other.

"Let's get to know each other better, y/n. Even though I have an idea of what you might like."

that fucker.

#aot x reader #aot smut #attack on titan smut #aot headcanons #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan x you #jean kirschtein imagine #jean kirschtein smut #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein smut #jean kirstein x you

981 notes · View notes

samodivaa · 8 months

Text

Words don’t trigger him, emotions do

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Anger, resentment and especially, jealousy—those emotions were all he knew while you both spent decades at Hydra.

Warnings- angst, jealously, mental struggles, smut, possessive sex, love bites

Words- 3400

⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄

And his love has its own dark morality when rivalry enters in, when another man dares to flirt with you and Bucky shall show well what he shows best.

“Hello, snowflake" he says "Hope I'm...interrupting”

There is an intonation so bitter and so imperative that the man who you are talking with shallows hard. The words which are set in the air—in themselves they are simple and sweet. But his jealousy, protectiveness are a living thing. Shifting, changing, growing.

"Do you know the man?" he asks politely, blue eyes burning with violence.

There is a natural comorbidity between possessiveness and jealousy, between the desire to fuck and the desire to kill.

„Yeah, I do,“ you reply and Bucky feels alone in the moment your eyes break contact—and in a fever, among the walls of the bar, he looks around too, a thickening twilight peeps out in his mind.

"Who is he?" he asks in a pleasant but cold voice, now clearly less friendly than before.

„It doesn’t matter“ you smile softly, that sentence is a uttered curse to Bucky’s ears. Immediately, his guard is up.

Bucky is silent for a moment, suffocated by the situation, ringing in his ears, and the heart—it will bust.

The simplicity of your answer spreads as frost, closing off the light of his eyes. His mind starts racing once again, a nameless emotion has nested in Bucky – who is that guy?

Bucky sits on your left side before he leans on the counter next to you, with his metal hand and puts his right one on his tight, closer to his gun strapped there.

You know him, you know that behavior— this yearning to protect, tearing at his insides like hunger and thirst. It is not love. Love is warm and soft, like a bed of leaves. But this is dark, like the shade under a poisonous shrub, and it is hungry. So hungry.

You know its' name—Winter.

You're stuck with him. Not for a few decades, not for centuries. You're tied to him forever. That's why you are good at putting out his flame before it grows—the frame he still carries from the past.

Jealousy isn't a pleasant quality, apart from its inconvenience there's even something touching about it—his starless nights eyes—his face, as if it has been a dial cut in impassive stone, the dwindling of life.

You are equipped to handle what he has, both past and present—package deal of both. In other words, you have been assigned a load you can handle.

“Bucky-”

“Let's go home, it’s getting late” he interrupts, in a soft, vicious voice.

“Give me ten minutes”

He feels like a thread has come between you when he hears your answer, tugging, tugging at his heart—so hard, it hurts him.

You glare at each other. He closes his eyes, because there is a petulant woundedness with which he stares back at you.

Neither of you say a word until Bucky moves, leaning back against the counter, and folding his arms over his chest. It takes all his concentration, to keep from ripping out this man’s throat. But Bucky shoves the familiar fury down, to the place where he stifles Winter's power.

“Okay”

He says as he looks over to the man, and wants him to say something mean so he would have an excuse to shoot him. Bucky is something dark and beautiful, in conflict with what he shows to the world and what he truly feels inside, it is hard to control it.

A worry deep in you stir, but you ignore it for now, pushing it down as best you can with the distraction of music and whiskey.

You fully turn to the man and all Bucky wants is your full attention. He wants your gaze to stay fixed on him, only him. He wants to stare into those beautiful eyes for as long as he lives.

Every avalanche begins with the movement of a single snowflake, and you are this Snowflake tonight.

When the ten minute mark hits you hear a quiet screeching sound—he has carved a small heart on the counter with his index metal finger—you can’t believe how jealousy has him gagging, his blue eyes are clouded before he lowers his gaze to the floor.

Snow is super soft, bottomless and amazingly light, yet supportive—until you take a wrong turn and feel every crystal reacting within your soul, suffocating you. Bucky has lost himself in the emotional storm: it takes so little this time, to put fuel in his cynical heart.

“Bucky…” you whisper and your eyes meet, his actual humanity can’t seem to triumph over the rage and jealousy this time, something you hardly imagine in your wildest dreams.

And this is the secret you both share—the kind you don't dare to let out—Words don't trigger him, but emotions do. You can’t leave them unnoticed, unattended and unsolved.

“Let's head home”

Your language has been lost for so long at Hydra. But not the gestures. It is almost comforting, this mutual acceptance of understanding each other without the need for words.

He maintains his silence, but he slowly gets up—he doesn’t look back, he knows you are following him closely. Of course you do, but you think about what has just happened

While you were looking into his eyes, there were fragments of his inner struggle that were deeply repressed—he always tries to repress the past. It’s hard to distinguish if they were buried inside because dealing with them was such dirty work, or if he was ashamed to voice them.

The truth is that he would rather dig his own heart out, with a knife, than admit it. A while ago he let you know that it's hard to control certain emotions—but he didn’t want to throw his intimacy in front of you, especially when he cares.

But nothing stays secret forever

You are trying to heal too, but, finally, there are things which he is afraid to divulge even to himself—he needs you, he needs your reassurance, he feels like someone will snatch you from his hands, damn his split personalities and untrustworthy habits from the past, but he can’t help it, it scares him.

You are both unearthed by deception, torture, brainwashing, whose essence was shrouded by Hydra—your own father naming the Winter Soldier program after his own daughter, you, stringing you with Bucky together—the yearning theme of your life.

After you escaped Hydra, you went your separate ways until he came back to you, searching for someone who understands him.

That was a year ago.

The more he thinks about it, the more he wants you, the more my desire rises and swells—

“Bucky” He shakes his head in exasperation, not stopping as he climbs the stairs to your shared apartment, aiming for the door, but he can’t stay with you, not when he is not fully himself “Bucky, stop, talk to me”

You have known him for so long, you can see the pride through his words, the truth through his silence, and the anger through his smile.

Always.

“Soldat“ he turns to you, perusing your body as he comes to stand in front of you, his abysses as deep as those of love, finally meet yours.

That realization takes about a nanosecond to register in Bucky’s brain before the real important information comes to the forefront—you’ve noticed.

He lowers his head toward you, so you could feel his breath warm against your skin, your mouths only inches apart

“Why did you call me that?”

He has no answer nor idea, just a never-ending list of questions, he is searching for a loophole that increasingly feels like a noose—he denies it, he tries to—you are not entitled to exposing him like that.

How hollow is it for him to have no secrets left—Bucky's love gives, and Soldat's lust takes.

His gaze, improper, is the most sensual thing he can have done at this moment, and it jolts your heart into a strange rhythm as you speak

“Tell me, how can I help?” You put your hands on his chest, your eyes still locked and an unwelcome sensation pierces you.

“You already know” he says thoughtfully as his cool gaze devours you “snezinka” (snowflake) and his lusty grin when he says that, it's sinful—and pleasurable.

“There is nothing to worry about. Do whatever you want to make yourself feel better” All you want to do is make him feel better, to drown his worries in your embrace.

Both shame and worry drown themselves in the dark eyes that stare back at him.

You.

Only you.

Bucky dreads this power you have over him.

Everything you say is exceedingly obvious, and undoubtedly true, but he feels that something more obscure, more frightening lurks in the back of your mind.

You don’t halt the hands he lays on your waist when he pushes you, backing you into the door.

⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄

1968–1969, Zhao Jianmin Spy Case

„That is going to be mass murder, send them together.“

This mission is a long, never-ending massacre, it never ends.

He is lost in your eyes, it’s eating him alive.

Corpses fill the floor, the sight of gore is peaceful in your corrupted existence. He becomes obsessed in this moment of solitude with you, he has the need to touch you and you respond with a kiss, blood all over your face.

Your wretched fate is shared, your need for touch also.

Winter’s lust betrays him as he pushes you against the wall, feasting on your lips and neck, his hands running up and down your back.

“Relax, Winter” you giggle as you gently press your fingers into his shoulders, forcing him to break the kiss as he looms over you- waiting with a predatory grin.

„I need you, Samodiva“ he slurs, eyebrows furrowed as he glances up at you. His trembling fingers touch the strings in vain, wanting to find the right notes from the fading memory, Soldat wants his soul to vibrate again; with lust, with love.

He knows you feel his arousal, your closeness causing him to grow hard, inhaling sharply, enjoying the sensations you are eliciting in him.

“I need you, too” you finally answer without faltering.

This is all Soldat needs to hear - his tongue flicking lightly over your neck once again, tracing the skin slowly, eliciting a moan from your lips, bodies acting on instinct.

A soft squeak escapes your puffy lips, the tension building up in your body too fast, too soon. Winter puts his hands around your waist, your pants already unbuckled, surrendered to him.

He wastes no time, there's no time left… his hands suddenly drop to his own pants, popping the button open and then pulling down the zipper.

The feeling of your insides drains all of his self power to not come on the first trust, he moves at an excruciating slowly pace, fucking you into the bloodstained walls, there is a glimpse of human nature when you fill the room with moans.

„I am yours,“ he whispers, his words sending a series of chills through her.

This is about him, not you, this is what he needs.

⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄

“1968, do you remember?“ he groans as he brushes his mouth against your cheek. The plea in his tone floods your veins with a whole different form of power “Just say no, snezinka-”

“This is exactly what I want“ you counter. As you arch your back, pressing the tips of your breasts against his chest, closing your eyes at the whisper of a kiss, at the hunger that ravages inside you.

He leans down more, his mouth only inches from yours. “Fuck,” the barely leashes growl of his voice rumbles up through his chest, and every nerve ending in your body flares to life.

Bucky loves seeing you pinned to the door—his control balancing precariously on the point of a knife. He tightens his hands holding you even closer, until your chest is pressed against his own, you can feel his hard cock pressing between your bodies.

All he needs is one push.

And you are about to shamelessly shove.

“Come on, I can take it” you tilt your head up to his and draw his bottom lip between yours, sucking before gently nipping him with your teeth.

“Yeah, yeah, okay” He speaks against your throat and finishes one languorous stroke up the column of your neck.

It breaches something within him, and he gives in.

Finally, mouths collides, and the kiss is hot and hard—it invades his body, abolishing any constraints and bringing to life the desire for you. It grounds him firmly in the moment and drags his body in it, too—Bucky wants to be the only thing touching you, the only thing that touches you ever again. He is kissing the shell of your ear, nipping at it gently and then soothing the nips with soft kisses.

Rage. Lust. Jealousy. Past. Preset. Every day is a reminder of how nothing stays the same, every day an exercise in variability, resilience, understating and trust.

You love the seasons, but, you must admit—at the risk of offending the others—Winter is your very favorite one. What a beautiful madness, to explore the darkness in his old self and find joy in the unearthing of such a wicked past.

He craves you, he kisses you again.

When your mouth touches his, it is like a blade glancing off metal—the darkness inside him briefly lights up with violence and rage before the emptiness comes flooding in like a black lake—you see it in his eyes.

“Let’s get inside '' he hears your whisper and he reaches up to stroke your cheek with the backs of his fingers. He might be lust-intoxicated, but he always cares.

Tonight, you have successfully deflected his attention from the gloomy thoughts and the contemplation of his past—his lust rushes, but his love makes him wait.

His love lasted for decades—will last for a lifetime.

Awash with trepidation, you two manage to get into the apartment, but the moment you lock the door—your back is against the wall again.

All those desires Bucky has felt in passing have culminated, growing deeper, hungrier, darker—he can do whatever he wants with you.

That through alone causes trouble below his belt.

He pulls his shirt over his head, the sight of his sculpted muscles, crisscrossed with countless scars. They have the strange power to remind you both that the past is real.

Bucky’s hands languidly roam the curves and valleys of your body as his kisses became sensual, slow and deep. There is such a luster in his eyes that you have to look away, but when you look back at him, his gaze hasn’t moved, still focused on your face.

Then he shifts his mouth to your neck for a hard love-bite that makes you cry out— the need to possess you, to claim you, he never did that before.

But even though you feel his erection stir as you press your hips against his, he doesn't attempt to resume the lovemaking in full, he catches you around your slender waist again and brings you close to whisper teasingly in your ear

“Ты - моя, слышишь?”

You begin to feel a familiar wetness form between your legs.

“Bucky,” you call out, impatient with desire.

But that exact position triggers so much delight, of the heated memory—he has all the time in the world, not as the last time.

He kisses you like he has forgotten how your mouth tastes—with a curious childish delight, kisses like wants to take you dancing.

As you pull apart, you remove your own shirt and his teeth scraping down the skin of your neck, his hands sliding around back to remove your bra, tossing it aside.

His right hand makes its way up, passing over a mark left by a bullet—your cheeks heat, and your breath hitches, but you can’t look away, you follow his hand with your eyes.

“I was not there when you got shot” he says as his fingertip skims the top of your breasts “When was that?” he uses the vibranium arm to lift one of the long locks of your hair to his lips and inhales the scent.

“It doesn’t matter”

And maybe you are right, but it stands as a reminder yet again of how you too escaped death's touch before. It was almost...normal for you back then.

Bucky takes a breast into his mouth to suck at it vigorously as you shiver in his grasp, the metal hand sides down to your waist to keep you against the wall.

You let out a small moan as you feel his hardness tighten and press even more insistently against you.

You worm your hands between your bodies, opening his jeans, freeing his length from the confines of his boxer-briefs, then reaching in to caress it and he burying his face in your neck to stifle his groan.

Bucky shudders when when you take him in your hand, stroking him painfully slowly. He allows it for several moments before hiking up the skirt of your dress to quickly tear your damp underwear.

He rubs a hand down your leg, fingers curling behind your knee and pulls it to his hip.

You instinctively jump, he catches you, abandoning his attempts of fingering you in favor of grabbing your hips, and you moan as you wrap your legs around his waist.

He loves you.

He loves you because nature wills it as it did for decades.

Because you are already long united by the past.

The bare flesh on every part of you always belonged to him, the scent emitting from your skin is his—he loves you, but he doesn't dare tell you that.

You have become Bucky’s favorite hiding place over the past year, the place he put every secret, every solitude, every nervous prayer, you keep him safe.

You have possessed him—and you never knew it.

He has been dependent on exactly how close he can have you next to him, how long he can get to stay at your apartment—making various excuses every time until you suggested to him to move in with you two months ago.

“Bucky,”

you tighten your legs around his waist, urging him to continue, running your hands over his shoulders.

Your voice pulls him out of what was ravaging in his mind, all those thoughts, but then he kisses as he roughly inserted his cock with no warning, you let out a surprised gasp as his forehead falls to your shoulder, bracing his hands on your hips and pressing you against the wall more firmly when he bottoms out, moaning shamelessly at the feeling of your body against him.

You are made for him, made for fucking.

“I love biting you, I need it” his voice is brittle, not saying anything else.

You stare like he is something you can’t comprehend, something unexpected – willingly admitting.

Your fingers thread gently through his hair and you can’t help, but hang your jaw in bewilderment at the sight before—he is falling apart from the need to claim you, to reach the white-hot ecstasy.

You have never seen him like that.

He bites his way along your jaw to the base of your throat. His mouth is hard and punishing, lathering your skin with marks—ferocity burns in his gaze promising something primal—thrusting into you wildly, trying to elongate your pleasure for as long as possible, but suddenly he is choking on moans as waves of climatic bliss are sent throughout his body.

This is about him, not you, this is what he needs.

This night you learn about his jealousy, it has you starving to learn more about this side of him. A new hunger that you know you will satisfy only with time.

His steel blue eyes hide a nearly irresistible urge to claim you—it’s hard for Bucky to control it when the incurable desolation of Winter exaggerates in displaying old emotions.

910 notes · View notes