#I am nothing but a kicked dog in the end

[downfallofi]

I had a thought, because I was slightly salty about being left behind while they went to Snohomish pride, that this wouldnt be as much an issue if I had my own car, and that led me down a rabbit hole of like, well, dude you could have had a car twice now, Mary at work was actually giving her old beater with a 2000 dollar bluebook value two years ago, for example. But I turned it down because I listened to my sister, and went against my judgement because of her advice; You don't want THAT car, its harmful to the environment and you would be better off buying an electric scooter!, just that sort of thing. And that got me thinking how much of my life isnt my idea, or my plan, and how much of it Ive gone along with because I deferred to people to make them happy or do what they want out of me and not live. And it's a lot. Even acknowledging that in some ways it's okay to listen to advice and there are valid points of view, but not taking a car that was offered to you by a sweet old granny, not because you didn't want it, but because you just went along with what someone else wants you to aim your life towards... decades in, where has that gotten me?

[qulizalfos]

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[gatorbites-imagines]

Logan begging for it.... so sweetly we cant refuse..... when he knows reader needs his sleep..... taking it in his even when it stays soft...... cockwarming reader while we sleeps.....

Yes im writing whis as I fall asleep

Logan Howlett x male reader

headcanons

I was gonna write a longer thing, but a migraine decided to kick my ass all of a sudden, so here I am simply rambling about this.

Imagine having a normal but exhausting day job. You’re no hero, no vigilante, no nothing, you’re just a guy. And you somehow ended up charming the pants off of The Wolverine of all people. How? You have no idea

Dating Logan is a real treat, even with his roughness and sometimes standoffish personality. When you guys really get close, he starts to get more vulnerable.

Along with vulnerable emotionally, he also starts to get a much stronger libido, seeing as he has a partner now. Him having a healing factor doesn’t help you in this case, since it means he has very little recovery time.

Seeing Logan, one would think hed be the dominant one, something you assumed in the beginning too. That was until you guys got intimate the first time and he shoved you onto your back to ride you instead.

There were no complaints from you obviously, because who’d mind having someone like that riding you? Logan in his broad, hairy and so very heavy way, lifting himself up and down on you like it was barely a workout.

You have to remind him to be careful though, multiple times, seeing as his bones make him extra heavy, and your poor hips are that of the average person.

Having a partner with a libido like that though, also means Logan is always raring to go, almost waiting for you by the door when you get home from your shift, like an old gruff dog waiting for affection.

The first week or two of you coming home dead on your feet and passing out on the couch the moment you sat down passed… as well as they could for Logan. He wouldn’t force you to do anything you hadn’t agreed with, but God, is he starting to get antsy.

After way too long, in Logans opinion at least, he finally can’t take it anymore. Being the Loverboy he secretly is, he at least brings you to your shared bed before clambering on top of you again.

You’re just too exhausted to do much other than pet at his thighs, eyes already drooping, but his almost timid but so desperate begging keeps you awake longer than other days. When you sleepily agree, Logan kisses you so hungrily you almost lose your breath.

You stay somewhat awake in the beginning as he works your clothes off, being kind enough not to rip it even if logan really really wanted too. He knows its your work clothes, and you’ve scolded him enough times about ripping up your clothes at this point.

It was hard to even really stay awake as Logan worked you hard, just enough for him to slide down on you, his groans sounding like he was a starving man having his first bite of food in weeks. Had you not been struggling to keep your eyes open, you might have teased him.

When Logan leans forward and just rests his weight on you, that was the last straw. Who could stay awake with such a warm heavy weight pressing down on them, like your own personal weighted wolverine blanket.

Logan didn’t even really feel the need to ride you or get himself off, he just wanted to be close to you like this, to feel you inside him and press up against you. So having slowly doze off under him wasn’t a bother, especially as you mumble for him to just keep going.

Most of the night is majorly used by Logan to just tuck his face into your neck and huff your scent, or rub his own against you. You will wake up with beard burns, sorry but those at the rules. Theres probably some chew marks and hickeys mixed in there too, Logans possessive.

You do wake up with very sore hips the next morning. In the comics he’s 300 lbs, but that’s with his comic height, so if were going off of movie Logan he weighs even more. And no matter how much you work out, that’s gotta make you sore.

You don’t really mind though, especially as Logan makes sure you massage your hips in ways you didn’t even know were possible. This also just gives Logan an excuse to lick and gnaw at you more, and to rub more of his scent into you, and yours into him.

Yes, you limp that day, and probably the day after. Luckily you’re able to work from home. This of course also means you have Logan on your dick the entire time, even if its just your mutant lover crawling under the blanket to get his mouth on you.

[5sospenguinqueen]

Princess Party Pt 2 | Lando Norris x Best Friend! Reader

Summary: After a drunken night with his best friend, Lando ran away from the consequences. Over the next eight months, he's reminded that he made a huge mistakes.

Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Baby fever. Pregnancy. Lando redemption.

Blonde female reader with various faceclaims. Pics found on Pinterest.

Main F1 Masterlist

prev.

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YourUserName posted a new story

liked by oscarpiastri, yoursister and others

georgerussell replied to your story

georgerussel63 let’s hope that bean doesn’t expect homemade treats in the future

→ YourUserName this is exactly why i’m crying so thanks for the reminder!

→ georgerussell63 oh no, i was joking. i'm so sorry! don’t cry! i’m on my way with ice cream

→ YourUserName i’m over ice cream now. i'll take hot dogs?

→ georgerussell63 don’t tell charles. he just released an ice cream line for you

charles_leclerc replied to your story

charles_leclerc don’t cry, y/n/n. bean has a life supply of free ice cream. she won’t even like cookies

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YourUserName just posted

liked by alex_albon, carmenmmundt and others

YourUserName not long now. (i believe george called this nesting)

1,123 comments

lilymhe counting down the days until i become a godmother

→ francisca.cgomes lily we’ve talked about this. i know the number for a good therapist, help with your delusions

→ alex_albon ladies, ladies, please. we’ve already had this fight. you both lose

→ georgerussell63 you all lose because i’m the only contender for godmother

→ YourUserName none of you are godmother unless you show up to meet bean in a red sparkly dress and a wand

→ georgerussell63 stop watching shrek 2

→ YourUserName never!!!

oscarpiastri the room is really coming together. those drawers look amazing

→ YourUserName i ask you to help me build one piece of furniture and i never hear the end of it

danielricciardo 2 months to go! not that i’m counting. or excited. in any way shape or form

flonorris1 such a beautiful room. bean has such an amazing mum 

charles_leclerc baby incoming!

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YourUserName posted a new story

liked by carmenmmundt, yoursister and others

alex_albon replied to your story

alex_albon bean's just training to be an F1 driver 

→ YourUserName isn't the term usually footballer 

→ alex_albon oh, please. that kid won’t be a footballer if uncle george and i have anything to do with it. we’ll make her the first female wdc 

→ YourUserName my poor baby. what untalented uncles she has

→ alex_albon oi! 

georgerussell63 replied to your story

georgerussell63 carmen says bean was kicking so much because she’s excited to meet her aunty

→ YourUserName and carmen would be right 

→ georgerussell63 i told carmen it was because bean heard my voice and loves me so much already 

→ YourUserName and you would be wrong

→ georgerussell63 pregnancy has made you mean

→ YourUserName nah, the hormones just make you less tolerable

→ georgerussell63 after all i’ve done :(

→ YourUserName <3

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YourUserName just posted

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and others

YourUserName welcome to the world baby bean l/n-norris tagged: landonorris

1,098 comments

landonorris my two beautiful girls. no words will ever express the amount of love and gratitude i have for you but i will spend the rest of my life trying to show you

→ danielricciardo simp

carlossainz55 congratulations. you make beautiful parents

alex_albon little bean is the most beautiful girl ever. i don’t think i’ve stopped crying since you named me godfather

→ lilymhe he really hasn’t. but tbf, i haven’t stopped crying since you named me godmother

→ yoursister i still think she should revoke alex's godfather title. traitor

→ alex_albon i apologised!!

→ georgerussell63 it means nothing!!! 

charles_leclerc baby bean is here! i am so excited. we can have little playdates

→ alexandrasaintmleux charles, i don’t think bean will be able to play with leo for a good while

→ YourUserName no but i can! bring him over!! 

danielricciardo who’s crying? not me. let me know when you feel ready for visitors as i may have bought a ‘few’ things

georgerussell63 beautiful girls. thank you so much for letting me be part of this journey, and for naming me godfather 

→ YourUserName it’s a thank you for driving me to the hospital and holding my hair back whilst i puked. i don’t know what i would’ve done without you and carmen

carmenmmundt it was such an honour to be part of this beautiful journey with you. 

→ YourUserName thank you for being there for me. bean and i cannot wait for our first brunch date with aunty carmen

maxverstappen1 i am very happy for the both of you. she’s beautiful 

oscarpiastri the most beautiful baby. i hope she’s enjoying that dresser 

→ YourUserName let it go, pookie x

francisca.cgomes i haven’t taken my godmother hoodie off since you gifted it to me

→ pierregasly can confirm. i'm sick of looking at shrek’s face anytime i walk behind her

mclaren our beautiful papaya baby. we can already promise that she will be the most spoiled girl in the paddock. we’re already setting up a racing nursery 🧡

→ mercedesamgf1 except she will be spending time in our garage

landonorris just posted

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and others 

landonorris to my beautiful daughter and her astounding mother. i am in awe of the pair of you. for the past nine months, i have been the biggest idiot on the planet. and yet both of you welcomed me back into your lives without a second thought. y/n, i have loved you since we were 12 and you kissed me because i grazed my knee falling off my bike. instead of telling you that, i dragged you around the world with me whilst i raced, falling more in love with you each day. your generosity and kindness never fail to wow me. to those who don't know, i was a complete idiot. i ran away from my responsibilities and yet, she didn’t hesitate in giving me a second chance. not just as a father but as a partner. she brought our beautiful bean into the world, and i will forever cherish the pair of you. you are my whole world, and if i ever upset either of you, george has full permission to run me over with his car. to y/n and bean, i love you both forever. you are my everything.

7,995 comments

alex_albon i’m so happy for you, mate. you owe me for all the grey hairs you gave me

→ landonorris i’m grateful for your friendship, mate. i owe you for so much more than just that haha

→ YourUserName @ alex_albon you’re still in trouble

→ lilymhe yes he is

carlossainz55 felicidades, compañero 🥳❤️

danielricciardo well done, brother. y/n did an amazing job. i’m glad you took responsibility

fernandoalo_official what a beautiful family. make sure you cherish it

georgerussell63 y/n made such a beautiful bean

→ landonorris hey, part of my dna is there too (but, yes, yes she did)

→ georgerussell63 unfortunately

oscarpiastri the caption is why you kept asking me for synonyms? but seriously, i’m so glad to have been part of this journey for both of you

pierregasly 🥳🥳🥂

mclaren papaya baby! we cannot wait to see baby bean in the paddock. she’ll be the most important part of race week

arthur_leclerc i cannot believe someone willingly had a baby with you, especially someone as beautiful as y/n 

               liked by YourUserName

user1 anyone else notice that none of the wags commented on this post despite y/n being in it?

→ user2 you can guarantee they all commented on hers though because they’ve all been gushing about buying baby stuff 

→ user3 they really said y/n may have forgiven him but we certainly don’t

user4 y/n stronger than me because if my baby daddy walked away from me and my child for the entire pregnancy just to decide he wanted to be a father once it was born, i’d cut his dick off

user5 guys, not only did we finally get lando and y/n together. we got mom and dad y/n and lando together

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landonorris just posted 

liked by maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri and others 

landonorris happy 1st birthday to my prettiest princess. you’re my favourite mini muppet in the world but if you don’t stop growing then you and daddy are going to have some words. (also, daddy best be the only prince charming in your life) 

15,449 comments

YourUserName whoa whoa whoa, i thought you were my prince charming

→ landonorris sorry babe but you know you lost me the minute i looked into her eyes 

→ YourUserName and here i go crying again 

danielricciardo mate, do you really think calling yourself daddy in an insta post is a good idea?

→ landonorris @ YourUserName pay up, i told you he’d make it weird

→ YourUserName damn it, daniel. you just cost me a back massage 

georgerussell63 and best godfather of the year award goes to me for the princess castle

→ alex_albon liar! best godfather of the year ‘twas me. she danced with me the most and wanted me to have the second slice of cake

oscarpiastri can’t believe princess bean locked me in the dungeon 

→ landonorris she wasn’t impressed that you overtook me last weekend 

→ oscarpiastri sucks to suck, i guess 

francisca.cgomes i still can’t believe my baby brunch buddy is 1!! when did that happen? 

→ landonorris @ YourUserName has enjoyed playing with the brunch kitchen kit more than bean has

→ YourUserName why would you expose me this way? i pushed a kid out for you

alex_albon happy birthday baby bean! can’t believe it’s been a whole year of spoiling you

→ User6 does this mean alex has been forgiven?

→ YourSister no. 

→ alex_albon don’t lie to the internet. you gave me a hug earlier

→ lilymhe it was only so she could spit in your drink, honey

charles_leclerc happy birthday, bean! she is the most adorable little girl. i think i will need to wear my fairy wings on the weekend to help me go faster

→ pierregasly i’ve already told alpine that they need to add my tiara to the helmet

User7 okay but can we all appreciate the fact that this little girl had the majority of the Grid at her party, all dressed in some way as princesses 

→ User8 @ YourUserName c’mon, we all know you’re a girls’ girl, release the photos of the princess grid

→ YourUserName shh, i have to wait until they're racing so you've all got 2 hours to save them before they make me take them down

maxverstappen1 P had the best day with bean, and said that y/n is her new bestest friend

→ YourUserName aww my heart. please bring P around for playdates forever though, she’s the best kid 

→ kellypiquet she was so exhausted she fell asleep in her princess dress

→ YourUserName so did lando

→ landonorris hey! 

→ YourUserName you started it

User9 i think we’re all asking the same thing; when are you having the next one?

→ landonorris @ YourUserName so..? 👀

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Baby Fever Angst Series

F1 requests are open!

Tag list - so sorry if I missed anyone. It wasn’t finding a lot of people

@bibissparkles @barcelonaloverf1life @rlalliehayes @softtina @callsignwidow @lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @luvrrish @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @majusialikesfastcars @luckyladycreator2 @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @spanishcorndogs @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @jxnellat @hc-dutch @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane @reguluscrystals @peachiicherries @rosecentury @prettypink11 @emmynotawards @tinyhrry @sltwins @daemyratwst @lemon-lav @noneofyourfbusinessworld @bwormie @leclercsluvs @spanishcorndogs @hard4ndsoft @formulaal @classiclitfreak @weekendlusting @evesfile @powerpuffgirly @leclercvsx

[wannabespacesmuggler]

L.H. | Like a Moth to a Flame

Masterlist | Buy me a coffee

Summary: Logan Howlett is a dangerous man; at least, that's what he wants you to think when he first meets you during your shift at Lucky's. However, he only seems to prove the opposite as he becomes a more constant presence in your life. After learning his true identity in a dark back alley, he's certain you want nothing to do with him. But against your better judgment, you're drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

Pairing: Lumberjack!Logan Howlett x Bartender!Reader

Warnings: canon typical violence, men being creepy in an alley, canon divergent (because fuck the timelines), mutual pining, miscommunication

Word Count: 3.4K

Author’s Note: I am overwhelmed with the love and support for my first Logan fic. This man has taken over my ever waking thought. I wrote this while picturing lumberjack Logan from X-Men Origins: Wolverine and listening to Hozier (this man is so "Too Sweet" and "NFWMB" coded). Super proud of how this turned out, hope you enjoy it.

You’re used to a rough-and-tumble, rough-around-the-edges kind of crowd — blue-collar workers, committed hunters, down-on-their-luck drifters. Maybe that’s why you don’t think twice when he enters the tiny dive bar. He’s clad in a deep maroon flannel tucked into a tattered pair of jeans. You don’t even look in his direction as he sidles into a seat at the end of the bar. He looks like any other patron you’ve met while bartending at Lucky’s. 

“Hey there, what can I get for you?”

He leans forward, forearms flexing against the counter. A shiver runs down your spine as your eyes linger on the deep scars etched in between his knuckles before traveling up his broad frame. It’s as if your fight or flight response kicks in, and suddenly, a voice in your head tells you to run. But as you finally meet his hazel eyes, you freeze. There’s a hollowness in how he looks at you — a profound sadness that makes your heart ache for the man sitting before you.

“Whiskey, neat.”

You simply nod at his request before turning to pour him a glass. As you place the drink before him, a flash of metal across his chest grabs your attention. The man follows your gaze, and his features harden at the realization of what caught your interest. He quickly shoves the dog tags hanging loosely around his neck under his shirt — out of your line of sight. Your cheeks instantly flush, humiliation washing over your body. You begin to apologize, but the man downs his glass of whiskey and slaps some cash on the table.

“Thanks for the drink.”

With that, he grabs his leather jacket off the back of his chair and stalks out of the bar. You watch him leave in stunned silence. You hadn’t meant to invade his privacy in any way. You’re used to the anonymity that some men around here need to survive — hell, you don’t even know the names of some of your regulars. Before you can get swallowed up by embarrassment, one of your other patrons calls for another drink. Shaking off your previous interaction, you return your attention to your job.

After work, you couldn’t stop thinking about the encounter. With a deep sigh, you pour yourself a drink and collapse into your couch. You don’t know why you’re getting so worked up about it. In reality, you probably won’t ever see the man again, which should relieve you; however, the thought only disappoints you.

To your surprise, he walks back into the bar three days later during your shift. You try to ignore his presence as he moves to sit at the same spot at the end of the bar. To make amends, you pour a glass of whiskey and set it in front of him.

“This one’s on the house.”

The man looks up, giving you a confused expression. He opens his mouth to protest, but you cut him off.

“Don’t. It’s just an apology for the other night.”

He gives you a nod before grabbing the glass and taking a long drink. You turn away from him, but his deep voice cuts through the rowdy Friday night crowd before you can take a step.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. I still expect a tip, though.”

A chuckle reverberates in his chest. The sound of it causes your face to light up. The man’s lips pull up into a small, gentle smile. You force yourself to return to work before you get further drawn into him. Unlike the other night, he sits at the bar for the rest of your shift, ordering several glasses of whiskey and keeping his eyes trained on the television above your head.

“It’s the end of my shift. Ready to close out with me?”

Logan nods, downing the rest of his whiskey and then placing several bills on the counter.

“Keep the change.”

“Wow, thank you…” 

You trail off, realizing you still haven’t learned his name. Looking down at the money he placed before you, you notice he’s tipped you at least fifty percent. You don’t want to invade his privacy again, but a part of you wishes you knew his name so that you could thank him properly.

“Logan.”

“Thank you, Logan.”

He stands up from his seat before clearing his throat awkwardly.

“You working tomorrow?”

You bite your lip at his words, trying to stop yourself from grinning like an idiot. Trying to ground yourself back into reality, you remind yourself that you don’t fraternize with your clientele. While working at Lucky’s, you’ve learned one thing about the men who frequent the establishment — they’re bad news. But then you look back up at him. He’s got to be over six feet tall; his simple white t-shirt accentuates just how broad his body is, and yet this sturdy, well-built man looks almost nervous standing before you. Your body responds before your brain can catch up.

“My shift starts at 6:00.”

Logan slides his leather jacket on, and a slight smirk spreads across his features. He’s a devastatingly handsome man, and you’re no better than a moth to a flame — irresistibly attracted to that which you know will hurt you. 

“See you then.”

And you do see him during your shift the next day, and your shift after that, and the one after that. Logan’s there in his seat at the end of the bar during all of your shifts, ordering whiskeys and making polite conversation until he’s become a constant presence in your life. 

Today is no different. You have a glass of whiskey ready for Logan when he enters the bar. His schedule with the town’s logging company is pretty consistent. Logan accepts the glass graciously as you slide it in front of him. 

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

You ignore how nonchalantly the term of endearment slips past his lips — and how your heart lurches as he says it. Instead, you focus on his features, which somehow look more exhausted than usual today. His work is hard, long, and labor-intensive; however, throughout your conversations with the hardened lumberjack, you’ve also learned that Logan’s sleep schedule is abysmal.  He’s a grown man; he can decide what he wants to do — or doesn’t want to do — but a part of you can’t help but want to care for him.

“You gotta get some sleep, Logan.”

He scoffs in response, looking up at you with tired eyes. You know he isn’t angry at your suggestion, but the pointed look he gives you is a warning. He’s opened up quite a bit throughout his frequent visits to the bar, but there is still an air of mystery about the man sitting before you. You know better than to push him, so you raise your hands defeatedly.

“All I’m saying is that those dark circles do nothing for that handsome face.”

A warm laugh reverberates in Logan’s chest. He takes a long drink from his glass before responding, downing a considerable amount of whiskey with absolutely no reaction.

“You think I’m handsome?”

You roll your eyes at the man, trying to keep your cool. Logan is an enigma to you — simultaneously socially awkward and overly flirtatious. It’s as if he has two personalities — two completely different sides of himself — fighting for dominance at all times. And yet, it works because he’s catastrophically charming. 

“Shut up.”

A smug smirk spreads across Logan’s face, and you decide it’s getting a little too stuffy in the small dive bar. You grab the pack of cigarettes you keep stashed under the bar and turn back to Logan. He already knows what you’re about to ask. It’s become routine for Logan to join you during your fifteen-minute break, sharing cigarettes in the secluded alley behind the bar.

“I’m going for a smoke. You coming?”

“Let me finish my drink. I’ll be right out.”

You nod at him before moving towards the back door. As you step out into the alley, you’re met with a much-appreciated, cool breeze. It causes a shiver to run down your spine as your body adjusts to the sudden difference in temperature. After placing a cigarette between your lips, you pull a small silver lighter out of your back pocket. You slide your thumb over the engraving on the side: L.H. Logan had given you the lighter after yours burnt out about a month ago. You tried to give it back, but he insisted you keep it. You bring the lighter up to your face, but a voice surprises you before you can light your cigarette. 

“Those things’ll kill you, sweetheart.”

A man you’ve never seen before emerges from the darkness and approaches you with an uncomfortable air of familiarity. The way this man says Logan’s term of endearment makes you sick to your stomach. It sounds sweet coming from Logan’s lips — grounded in a deep respect and laced with affection. 

You were simply going to ignore him, knowing Logan’s presence would deter him in a matter of minutes; however, your body bristles as two more figures join him from the darkness of the alley. Your body moves on its own accord, seeking the comfort and safety of the bar — of Logan. But the man closest to you grabs your arm before you can step out of their reach.

“Where you going, sweetheart? The party’s out here.”

His voice is sickly sweet and dripping with venom — a stark contrast to Logan’s low, warm timbre. The two men behind him laugh at his words. Your fight or flight response kicks in, and you struggle against the man’s hold as you’re hit with the gravity of your situation.

“Just let me go.”

Your voice is stern as you rip your arm away from the man’s grip. You rush to get away, but he’s quicker. He places both hands on the brick wall behind you, caging you in. Now you’re panicking. A threatening growl interrupts the encounter before the man in front of you can say anything else, and Logan emerges from the darkness. His features are menacing in the dim light of the alley, but you’re met with a sense of relief rather than fear.

“You heard her. Let her go.”

The tiny hairs on the back of your neck raise at the sound of his voice; however, the stranger in front of you doesn’t seem to find him as frightening. Instead of backing down, the man lets out a dry, unamused laugh at Logan’s words.

“We’re just having some fun here.”

Bile rises in your throat at the insinuation in his tone. Logan seems equally displeased by his response as another animalistic growl rips through his body. He takes an intimidating step forward before speaking.

“You don’t want to do this, bub.”

It’s almost as if he’s pleading with them — begging them to stop so that he doesn’t have to act first. Your eyes find those dog tags hanging around his neck again. Your heart breaks as you realize Logan doesn’t want to fight, but he will — for you. Based on the look in his eyes, he’ll rip these men apart limb from limb if they lay a hand on you. 

“No, buddy, you don’t want to do this. You’re outnumbered — three to one. You don’t stand a chance.”

The man’s tone is amused but impatient. He’s itching for Logan to either leave them be or throw the first punch, but he does neither. Instead, Logan squares his shoulders and extends his arms out at his sides.

“You sure about that?”

Your brow furrows at an unfamiliar sound — a strange, metallic snikt. You’re surprised when the man’s arms fall from either side of your shoulders. You take the opportunity to create distance between yourself and the group of men who are all staring at Logan. Not understanding what caused their sudden hesitation, you also look over at Logan. Your body tenses at the sight of him standing in the middle of the alley with long, metal claws protruding from his fists. He takes another step forward, and the men scatter, running for their lives. 

Logan waits a few moments, ensuring that the men are actually gone. Then he lets out a deep sigh as his metal claws retract back into his hands. Your hands meet the cool brick behind you, grounding you in this incredibly unreal moment. You blink, expecting to wake up from whatever dream you’re having right now — but you’re not dreaming.

Logan finally turns to face you, and his features soften. His eyes scan your body, checking you over for injuries. He takes a step toward you but stops as you take a step toward the bar's back door. You can’t seem to look away from his hands — at those deep, pronounced scars between his knuckles. His eyes follow yours, and you’re met with instant regret as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. You finally look up at his face and are anguished at the sight of his hardened features.

You want to tell him a million things. Your body moved on its own accord. You didn’t mean to stare at his scars. You’re just confused. You’re grateful for his help. You’re not afraid of him.

But you don’t mutter a single word. It’s as if you’re frozen in place. 

“Alright.”

Your heart almost breaks in two at the pained sound of his voice. Logan meets your eyes one last time, disappointment evident in his gaze. Finally, your body shakes out of its paralysis, but it’s too late — the damage has already been done. You watch helplessly as he begins walking away from you. 

“Logan, wait.”

But he doesn’t turn around. He keeps walking until he vanishes into the darkness. Tears begin rolling down your cheeks as you slide down against the brick wall — partly because of what could have happened and partly because of what did happen. And just like the first day you met Logan, you fear you may never see him again. 

But once again, you were wrong. 

Eight unbearably long days later, Logan enters Lucky’s again. You watch his bated breath as he approaches, hoping he’ll sit at his usual spot at the end of the bar. Instead, Logan places a few bills on the counter before meeting your gaze. You draw in a shaky breath as you look into his hazel eyes — the hollowness is back, and our heart aches as you realize you’re now the reason behind that sadness. 

“Didn’t feel right not closing out last time.”

You almost laugh at his words — the free glass of whiskey was the last thing on your mind. He rolls his shoulders back nervously, his muscles flexing under his black t-shirt. You reach out and grab his hand before he can pull it away from the counter. His eyes instantly widen, but the physical contact seems to make him relax ever so slightly.

“Can we talk, please?”

Your hand tightens around his, physically begging him to just stay. Logan nods in silent agreement. You pull your hand away from his and try to push down the sudden disappointment caused by the loss of his touch. You move toward the back door, and Logan follows you into the alley from a safe distance. For a moment, you’re lost in a bout of deja vu as you lean against the brick wall, and Logan stands before you. Your hands nervously find Logan’s lighter in your pocket, looking for something to occupy yourself with. The movement catches Logan’s eyes, and you swear the corners of his lips twitch up into a small smile at the sight of his lighter in your hands. 

“I’m sorry.”

The words tumble out of you clumsily. Logan’s brow furrows, and you watch as his head tilts slightly to the side. 

“What?”

“I’m so sorry, Logan.”

Logan’s lips pull into a small frown as he considers your apology. He takes a cautious step forward, watching you intently. He’s waiting for you to pull away, but you stand your ground.

“Why are you apologizing, sweetheart?” 

You can’t help the small smile that spreads across your face. Hearing him say that name — the word that’s been keeping you up at night — you realize just how much you missed the sound of his voice.

“I made you think I’m afraid of you.”

Logan takes another step forward, testing you. You know what he’s trying to do — he’s giving you an out. Pull away, and he’ll stop, but you lock eyes with the man before you. His movements might be cautious, but his eyes are wild with unspoken emotion.

“Well, are you?”

“No.”

Another step forward. He’s now standing within arm’s length. You could reach out and touch him. God, you want to reach out and touch him. Logan looks down at you with an intensity that makes your breath catch. No man has ever looked at you like this, but then again, Logan certainly isn’t like any other man. 

“You should be.”

That voice from the first day you met him appears yet again, telling you to run. But you stay put. You don’t need to run from him. You don’t need to fear him. He protected you from those men. He was prepared to fight for you. He revealed his true identity to keep you safe. And once again, you’re like a moth to his flame — gravitating towards him.

“I’m not afraid of you, Logan. And I’m not going anywhere.”

He’s a breath away, so close you can feel the warmth radiating off his body. You wonder if he can hear your heart pounding in your chest as his gaze moves from your eyes to your lips. His hand covers yours, stopping your anxious fidgeting with his lighter. You watch in awe as he takes it from your grasp and places it into your jacket pocket. He moves his hand out of your pocket; his fingers leave a scorching sensation behind in their absence as they slide across your skin until they reach your waist. His other hand comes up and tenderly caresses the side of your face.

“Say it again.”

Your breath hitches at his request, but you do what he asks — hell, you’d do anything for him.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Logan shakes his head. His hand moves to take hold of the other side of your waist. The grip he has on you is secure but gentle.

“No, sweetheart. Not that part.”

Oh. Oh.

You could cry at the realization — at his need to feel wanted and appreciated. You move your hands to either side of his face. He melts into your touch before meeting your eyes again. A part of you wonders if anyone has ever touched Logan like this — if he’s ever known what physical contact feels like outside of a fight.

“I’m not afraid of you, Logan. I trust you.”

And suddenly, Logan is pulling you into him. His lips desperately find yours. Your fingers thread through his hair as his body pushes you into the brick wall. His movements are rooted in a deep hunger — not driven by lust, but in a need to be known and loved and touched. So that’s just what you do. Your hands move through his hair, down his neck, across his chest, over his back. You attempt to touch every bit of Logan to prove that you want this — that you want him. 

A low growl reverberates in his chest as he pulls away from your lips. Unlike the night before, this growl isn’t rooted in anger but, instead, the result of a deep desire. His hands move away from your body and find the wall behind you. Your brow furrows at the loss of his touch until you hear a familiar sound on either side of you — a sharp, metallic snikt. He leans down, forehead resting against yours as his short, rapid breaths fan over your face.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I can’t control it sometimes.”

You shake your head at his admission. He did control himself — he purposely removed his hands from your body before his claws extended. He protects you as if it’s just his second nature — something he doesn’t even need to take the time to consider. You run your hands up his chest, feeling the tense muscles under his t-shirt, before gently grabbing his face.

“Hey. Hey.”

You pull away slightly so you can look him in the eye. Your words grab his attention, grounding him.

“You have nothing to apologize for. I trust you.”

His breaths gradually even out, and eventually, you hear his claws retract and feel the familiar warmth of his touch against your skin again. As Logan maintains eye contact, looking at you as if you’re the answer to some unspoken prayer, you begin to think you’ve gotten this all wrong: maybe you’re not the moth, but the flame.

[melliemell]

Pairing: Chuuya x f!reader

Contents: NSFW, penetration (reader receiving), Chuuya-levels of cursing, don't say he's cute, he'd get grumpy about it and fuck you stupid to prove a point, incessant flirting, Approx 1.1k words

It really started off as a joke.

An off-hand comment you made. You didn’t intend on paying more attention to it… were it not Chuuya’s reaction; an eyebrow raised as he leaned into his seat, that god-awful grin of his spreading wide as he regarded you.

Your date was going well, all things considered. A nice restaurant, your own secluded corner to settle in at and relax, a gift of overly extravagant flowers–always the charmer that one, Chuuya even pulled the chair for you–it was perfect. A sense of being with the right person doing the right thing.

Finally having the time for each other.

And doing normal, romantic things was part of this evening’s plans.

Except it was Chuuya you were speaking of. Nothing that simple ever happened around him.

“So you think I’m boring?” he asked, playing the amused card to the tenth. There was none of his usual bark, only the teasing tone you had grown accustomed to.

“Misleading–” you began, leaning into his personal space to poke at his chest. “–is what I was referring to. This grand, scary mafioso… that also happens to spend half an hour choosing which shoes go best with which vest. You portray the part of barking dog really well but you’re actually a cutie.” And you winked, just to nail it down.

Chuuya clicked his tongue. He didn’t like it when you babied him, you knew that. But his reactions were too good to miss out on. 

“Hah? That the type of man ya take me for?” he grumbled, not quite masking the slight annoyance this time around. 

You hummed, trailing a finger down his chest. “Devastated, are you?”

Chuuya grabbed your hand, raising it to plant a kiss to your wrist. His eyes didn’t leave yours as he said, “Damn right I am. Calling me ‘cute’ out here like ya don’t know any better.”

You cocked your head, eyebrow raised in feigned confusion. “What? You gonna do something about it?” You knew perfectly well where this was going.

A whispered “fuck” left Chuuya’s lips, audible only for you to hear. And it was then it got settled– you weren’t suited for the romance part. Not the innocent, charming one at least. You needed a bit… more.

It became even clearer when less than an hour later your hands fumbled for your keys, Chuuya glued to your back as he trailed sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. 

“I really hoped we’d be doing the ‘sweet date and movie night combo’, you know? Have you snuggled up against me and all,” you said, wasting no time as you both stumbled through the entrance, your hands finding their way around Chuuya’s neck. He kicked the door shut before trapping you against the nearby wall, lips seeking yours. 

“I’ll snuggle you up all night long, doll.” You could taste the wine on his tongue, the hurried way he kissed you leaving no space for distraction. Demanding your full attention was a staple mark of Chuuya’s, you couldn’t deny it.

“You seem preoccupied with other things, though,” you said, unbuttoning his vest.

Chuuya’s hands were already on your bra, unclasping the hooks before you felt a hand cup your breast, the barely-there caress of a thumb over your stiffened bud sending tingles of pleasure down your body in seconds. “How about you just ask me nicely, hm?” 

“Ah, you want me to beg now?” you asked, a finger trailing the outline of his lower lip, and you savored the way his breath trembled. Teasing like this would be wise only for now, you doubted he’d let you off the hook as easily soon enough. Not when you could feel his cock through the fabric of his trousers, hard against your thigh and probably leaking. 

Chuuya kissed your finger before biting it lightly, and you chuckled. “Don’t wanna leave me guessing what you want, do you? I might end up biting somewhere ya don’t want me to, sweets.”

You arched your hips forward, drawing a low groan from Chuuya. “We’ll have to wait and see then. I’m very open-minded, you know.”

“And stubborn,” Chuuya grinned, rocking against you. “Fu-uck, this feels good. I forgot what my point was, damnit.”

“Ha, loser.”

“Fuck off, bigger loser.” 

You were about to make fun of him again, seeing as he lost brain cells faster the hornier he got, but… you felt him pinch your nipple this time, rolling your bud between his skilled fingers as he dived for your neck again. The throbbing between your legs distracted you, intensifying even more as Chuuya’s tongue trailed along your pulse, leaving damp skin to prickle against the cold air. 

Rough wall against your back turned into soft sheets in a flurry of fragmented moments. Only Chuuya’s presence remained firm beside you. He settled between your legs, hands hurriedly discarding any remaining garments as fast as you both could, all the while without letting go of each other. Not once.

You barely had your underwear down before Chuuya was rocking forward, cock settling between your pussy lips as he rubbed against you. Your wetness spread over his tip only to draw a low moan from his parted lips. 

“Impatient,” you said, hooking your ankles around his hips. 

“You wanted the real deal tonight,” he grinned at you. “Going around calling me boring and cute all evening. Like hell I’ll leave it at that.”

“You gonna change my mind, fancy hat boy?”

“Ooh, you betcha,” Chuuya said, and slowly sank into the heat of your throbbing cunt.

You knew Chuuya was a talker; never shutting up even when you really would rather just hold him, hand clasped over his mouth as he fucked you in peace.

But not this time. It was quick and rough, him bottoming out in you with every slick thrust. He barely gave you time to take your bearings, his hand finding your clit only to start rubbing mercilessly in sync with his movements. Trying to stifle your moans was proving near impossible. Only Chuuya’s lips served as help, swallowing your every sound as he kissed you stupid. 

“Oh, fuck…” you panted, pulling away. 

“Nuh-huh, where ya going, sweets?” Chuuya ground his hips against yours, drawing another pained moan from your throat. “I’m doing you good, yeah? Come on, keep up with me.”

Your nails dug into his back even as your body trembled all over. “A bit too good there.”

“Yeah?” Chuuya trailed kisses down your jawline, his pace slowed. For now, at least. “Wanna ask me nicely about it?” he whispered.

Fuck. “I’m in for it, aren’t I?” you asked, knowing full well the answer. 

Chuuya only grinned.

Yeah, it was about to be a long night.

[murdrdocs]

INTERVIEW 026. CARMEN BERZATTO murdrtober oct 19th. dry humping

You could've kept screaming and yelling at Carmy, but grinding your bare cunt over his clothed cock was way more impactful. 955+ words MDNI 18+

There's no point in pretending you're shocked, or even upset, about the circumstances you're in. You've grown to expect it, kicking your shoes off at the door, pushing and pulling until you fall onto a surface, whatever surface.

It's all so familiar, and not because you've done this dance many times before. It's familiar because this used to be your life. Leaving work with giddy jumping around in your belly, telling you what will be coming next.

Gone are the flirty texts. Your digital conversations with Carmen are kept short and sweet, always cut and dry and about things that aren't concerning how bad you want him.

Because you'll never say it, from your mouth or your thumbs, but he can always feel it between your thighs.

You're only in this apartment when you need something you can't get from someone else. And if you're not going to get what you want, there's no reason for you to stay here. So when your lighthearted conversation with Carmy goes from horny to thorny, you grab your purse and begin to search for your other shoe.

Carmy stops talking to a brick wall. "What're you doing?"

"What am I doing? What does it look like I'm doing, Carmen? I'm leaving."

"Leaving? Leavin'? Why would you be leaving?"

"Because you would rather be a little bitch than get your dick wet so I don't see a point in me staying here."

You really did intend to leave.

You've always known there was no point in arguing with Carmy. You would usually just go round and round in circles, never really reaching a conclusion that was favorable for the both of you. And you've seen where the times that you did argue with him got you—paying your own rent instead of splitting it is where it's got you. So if you're not here to only tell Carmy to give you more and that you're about to come, you're leaving.

This was your goal. But you've really been a little stupid lately because somehow, you end up sitting on Carmy on the couch and not sitting in your car yelling about his behavior in a voice note to your group chat.

But this is nearly as cathartic in its own, sick way.

“So what?" Carmy starts up again, "Is this some sorta …” He hisses and you think he’s given up, but he licks his lips, and tries again. “Is this some sorta punishment?"

His face scrunches in that way that he does when he’s confused, that plaster of his condescending tone there as well.

You guffaw and sure, it's a bit mean, but that's really your intention at this point. “Punishment? I don’t think you’re a child or a dog, Carmy.”

He scoffs. “Really? 'Cause you treat me like one.”

And you could continue to go back and forth. You could reach deep and throw mean jabs at him like the two of you hate each other. It’s an easy routine to fall into. But you don’t give in, because you have him like this—sitting beneath you in nothing but his boxers, his spread legs behaving as your throne as you slowly glide your bare cunt back and forth over his bulge.

You grin down at him. You’re in control, you don’t need your words to prove that too. But verbally is the only way Carmy can fight for control.

He doesn't rest. Physically, his body is as tight as you've ever seen it. His muscles bulge as he holds onto your waist with a grip that would stop your movements if you weren't so headstrong. His abdomen is tight, there's sweat gathered in the notch at the center of his neck. His curls have begun to get damp too, mostly around his hairline. And he just won't stop talking, going on and on about how this doesn't mean you've won.

For a usually quiet and shy guy, he's very verbal tonight.

You continue to ignore him, only speeding up the way you grind by just enough to make a difference. You let your head loll to the side as you make a show of it, really making sure Carmy knows how much you're enjoying yourself.

"Relax, Carmen," you tell him, biting your lip and sliding your hand over your bare chest to pinch your nipples.

"Don't ... don't call me that. 's weird when you call me 'Carmen'."

That's the point, you want to tell him. But you decide to pity him just enough.

"Just enjoy the show, honey, alright?"

Carmy's muttering under his breath, some swears followed by disbelief that this would be considered some form of a show and not a special form of torture. But for the most part he does as you say.

He only asks to feel you, like really feel you, one more time, and when you shake your head with faux-sweetness in your eyes, he acquiesces. You see it happen in his body, his muscles relaxing as he sinks back into the couch. His grip on your waist loosens enough to give you more control than you had before, and you use it to make the rest of the ride worth both of your whiles.

Your tits jiggle as you push back and forth. You moan, loud and breathy, and you can't help but abashedly smile when you look down and see how much of an impact you've made on the color of Carmy's briefs.

This seems to bring out the Carmy you're used to. He hisses, but it's a sound of astonishment instead of pain this time. "Look at that," he marvels just loud enough for your attentive ears to pick up.

You agree, nodding as you plant your hands on Carmy's chest for better purchase. "Look at that."

[shotmrmiller]

tw: simon's mean and a sexist.

Simon who doesn't like you. He respects Laswell, who's intel is vital to their missions. Price as the leader of the Task Force. Gaz because he's proved his mettle time and time again, and Soap whose stubborn self has burrowed under Simon's thick, knotted flesh.

Not you, though.

You've yet to do anything substantial.

As a sniper, your job is to aim and kill; provide overwatch. Why Johnny insists on giving you praise for doing what is required of you is beyond him.

You aren't taken to below-zero temperatures as emotional support. Why you're taken at all is also another mystery.

Without your gun, you're utterly useless. And Simon proves it, time and time again during training spars at base.

He comes at you as if you're the enemy, with dangerous precision and quick movements. Simon gets enjoyment out of seeing your eyes widen when he moves, like an injured gazelle who's just spotted a ravenous lion.

His grip is bruising— the force that he slams you to the ground with devastating.

Simon can hear the air punched out of your lungs once your back hits the mat, and the time it takes for your vision to sharpen, he's already pinning you down viciously with a knee to the sternum.

Useless. Women don't belong in combat. He's seen that big brute from KorTac. He'd crush your pathetic little head under his palm, he'd kick your ribs hard enough to crack and the splintered ends pierce your lungs.

He'd kill you without a hint of effort.

And Simon intends to remind you that there is no place for weak, bitty things like you in the front lines. Unless you're to be used as a distraction by flashing your tits at the bad guys.

Out of place.

Every time you go up against him, he uses his size and strength against you, just like every other person will. He launches you across the floor with a single arm, only to watch you struggle to get up and continue this sham of a fight.

Confidence born of ignorance.

As if sheer will would ever beat physical prowess.

If your feet won't touch the ground, then the rest of your body will. Through spilled blood and bruised flesh, may you learn.

He whistles at Johnny, gesturing at him to take his place, only for the end result to be the same, albeit much more gently.

Simon watches you through half-lidded eyes as he leans up against the wall. You fight against inevitability.

Pathetic.

And then one day, you come at him with a snarl on your lips. Blunt teeth that have never had to sink into someone's neck and rip a throat out, out of utter desperation. An unblemished face that's never felt the sting of a sharp blade as it's sliced open contorted into 'rage.' Frothing at the mouth like a lap dog with rabies, barking out words that are as empty as your future.

A forceful wave of his hand abruptly halts you mid-sentence, causing you to involuntarily flinch in response. Good.

"If ya have a complaint, take it to Price. I am not obligated to humor your stupidity."

He spins on the balls of his feet, leaving you to sputter indignantly.

Then on a mission, you get shot. Simon grabs the handgun that's holstered on his chest, and places it in your bloodied hands. "Keep them off of us, or we're both dead!"

His fingers are curled around the thick strap of your tac vest as he drags you toward the LZ; his pace never faltering even while getting clipped by stray bullets. But you?

He'd think you got your legs cut off. Wailing like a cat in heat over a wound above your hip. A clean in and out, nothing vital hit.

Simon has seen Gaz fall out of a helicopter, dangle from a rope, and still use his gun. He's seen Johnny cross a town full of Graves' Shadows bleeding from his shoulder, armed with nothing but the makeshift weapons he crafted on the way to the church. Price inhaled toxic gas and made it out just fine. Even Laswell was taken hostage and didn't crack under the pressure, going as far as killing her captor with her bare hands.

And you're decomposing in front of his very eyes over a superficial wound.

Landing at base, he walks out without a glance back and heads straight for Price's office. He didn't join the 141 to babysit anyone, least of all someone who belongs in either intelligence or a kitchen.

[radio-fmm]

Bathing suit

Sanji x reader

Warnings: afab reader, comfort fluff but a little suggestive, CW reader is not comfortable with her body so she talks terrible about it (don’t worry this has a happy ending)

Word count: 1.6k

Summary: In which you hate how you look in your bathing suit and Sanji comforts you

Masterlist

It was a hot sunny day, the waves of the ocean made their way to the shore in a calm rhythm, so steady that the Strawhats found themselves having to dock on the beach for the day, awaiting for the ocean’s ferocity to comeback so they could sail away to continue their adventure

A day in the beach, everyone was more than happy for the idea. Having to spend your days at sea with the same faces looking back at you every waking moment could be a little nagging, having this time to unravel and enjoy the beauty of the island was something everyone looked forward to. Franky and Ussop had even set up an improvised tiki bar, just an excuse for Sanji to make everyone drinks really

And there he was, mixing up a fruit drink that he handed Nami which she took gratefully, before making her way back to her assigned place under an umbrella besides Robin. A smile was quick to make its way to the cooks face, everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, wether it be savoring his drinks, fooling around in the ocean or constructing an impressive sand castle near the shore

But his smile was quick to fade when he noticed you were nowhere to be found, how strange. Earlier that day, when Luffy happily shared the news of how the crew was going to spend the day, he clearly recalled your enthusiastic response, happy to finally have some sand under your feet and enjoy a relaxing day under the beaming sun; so… where were you?

Worry seemed to be building up on Sanji’s core when he asked about your whereabouts and no one really knew where or what were you doing

“Last time I saw her she was getting ready, said she’d catch up to us” Robin commented, which did nothing to ease his worries since that had happened when you had just docked

“I’m just going to make sure she’s ok” Sanji said after taking a drag of his cigarette that burned hastily under his fingertips. Robin smiled and nodded, knowing that whatever it was, Sanji would take good care of it

So he looked for you, all over and under The Sunny, but it seemed like you had dissipated into thin air, that was until he heard a sob reverb from behind the girls quarters door. Thinking something absolutely terrible and unthinkable had happened to the sweet sweet you, Sanji kicked open the door, making you jump out of your skin as his eyes examined the room

When he saw you, eyes puffy, nose red, wrapped under a blanket looking like a sad wet dog Sanji found himself stunned, glad you were in one piece, but his heart breaking at your sight

“My dear… what happened?” You stayed in place, only answering with a sad sob and a shiver, the blonde eased his position, softening as he approached gently “dear?”

“Nothing… I’m just, not feeling well” Sanji had never seen you like this, in his eyes you were a strong and brave woman that carried herself proudly, to see you so vulnerable made his heart clench. Hesitantly, he sat at your side of your bed, his eyes never leaving your form, taking note of your fingertips dragging your tears away in a hurry. A salience fell, deafening as you fought back the pain blossoming form your being, hiding into yourself

“Are you sure?” A sigh left your lips, your eyes watering meeting his blue worried ones, you shook your head slowly

“Do you want to talk about it?” His voice was barely a whisper, as if afraid you’ll get scared and run away again. You stayed still for a moment, hesitant but too hurt to even deny, you nodded shutting your eyes as new tears peeked at the sides

Sanji scooted closer, his hand reaching for your back rubbing confronting circles “I feel disgusting”- your voice came out broken and tired.- “I look so bad in my bathing suit, nothing like Nami and Robin… why am I like this?”

Every single word that came out of your mouth was like a dagger hitting Sanji’s stomach repeatedly, hurting him like nothing had ever before and leaving him confused

Every since Sanji had landed his eyes on you, he was absolutely star struck. He swears he had never crossed paths with someone like you, your beauty beyond compare. Sure he was known for his admiration for women and tossing around the word perfect almost to every single one he met, but you? Perfect was not enough of a word; it was not only your dazzling beauty with your star lit eyes and your addictive smile framed by those soft lips of yours, your sun kissed skin and your free hair waved by the ocean’s breeze the only thing leaving him breathless, it was your heart, your bravery and kindness that you always extended towards the people around you, your soul was even far more precious than anything Sanji had ever encountered in the vastness of the sea

It was really confusing to know that you couldn’t see what he did

An incredulous “What?”- was the only thing that slipped from his mouth at the idea of it, your eyes turning confused just as he was

“But, you’re gorgeous” Sanji expressed without hesitation, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, as if stating a clear fact

“You’re just saying that to be nice” he immediately shook his head repeatedly, his hands reaching to hold yours in hopes you’ll understand

“I mean it!”

“You don’t have to pretend, I know loving every woman on earth is part of who you are but be honest with me Sanji. I am not as skinny or gracious as all the girls you fawn over, I am not the kind of girl someone double takes at-“ you paused your rambling when you were met with something you had never seen before, Sanji was upset… upset with you; angry eyes piercing you in place, holding his breath hoping that the words you used to talk about yourself would stop flowing out of your mouth, he was fuming

“Sanji?” His strong grip shifted from your hands to your shoulders, blue eyes full of determination burning right into yours but not a word was spoken. The cook knew if he was to spill every thought that swam around his mind right now it would only bring to the surface his clear love for you, a feeling he had tried to bury deep down on his being and failing every time you’ll cross his line of vision; regardless, he weighs his options, you deserved better than him he said to himself but… maybe he wanted to be selfish

“Darling, it’s true… you’re not like Nami or Robin, but that’s exactly why you’re so…”- his heart jumped to his throat as he tried to get his words out, desires being held back by a thin rope about to snap.- “so perfect” Sanji’s words echoed trough the room, blush settling on top of your tear stained cheeks, but still you doubted him

“I am no-“

“Y/N!” he shook your shoulders in hopes you’ll come back to yourself

“You think I’m lying? Look!” You stood up getting away from his grip and tossing the blanket that shielded your body aside, opening your arms as you showed your bathing suit “My belly looks so bad, my thighs are huge and I have marks all over and…” your voice faded as Sanji admired you from his seat, ogling you form head to toe, his heart went from his throat to the floor reddening his face and hitching his breath

Fuck it

The cook stood up just to fall on his knees immediately after; there he was in front of you, his hands on your plum thighs as pure adoration looked back at you -“If you only knew what you do to me” your pink tinted cheeks turned red at his words and your heartbeat went wild, threatening to make your heart jump out of your ribcage. His slender hands touched your cold skin with pure devotion burning themselves into you, his eyes made another roll of your figure taking in every detail he was able to as he remained close. Sanji’s grip faltered only to move his hands around your legs, savoring the way your skin felt under his fingertips; his hands reached near your bottom making you jump immediately pulling his hands back to your thighs

“SORRY!” He exclaimed as his mind catches up with the actions of his body, hand pulling away from you leaving you cold.- “You’re just so… unreal”

There it was again, that twinkle in his eyes that made its appearance whenever he glanced at you, beaming over your insecurities and making them disappear on its wake, but why? why you? In your eyes you were just pathetic but for him… you were everything

“Sanji” you called and he answered without a doubt, raising to his feet as he awaited for your words.- “Do you mean it”

Finally, a shadow of a smile casted on your lips, melting the cook in a puddle at your feet, but he managed to not crumble because he needed to answer

“Sweetheart, theres so much more I want to say to you and nothing would be enough to show you how crazy you make me” hearing the thrumming in his chest sparked the idea to maybe just show you. Again, his hand took one of yours in his and placed in on his chest, there it was clear as day, his heart jumping around because of you… for you

You flushed at the feeling, another smile gracing Sanjis view as you thanked him in a whisper, both of your gazes staring back at each other lost on the feeling of one another, awaiting for time to take you

“I feel so much better now” taking advantage of your position, you jumped on the cooks arms, wrapping yourself on his tall frame smiling like an idiot which Sanji welcomed happier than ever, you body melting into his in a sweet hug that he would forever remember

“Glad to be of service”

—————————

This was supposed to be a prompt with several characters but I got carried away… anyways Laws version is in the making

[iichfilwypj]

but daddy, i love him! | percy jackson

ღ book! percy jackson x daughter of zeus! reader ღ warnings: pregnancy mention, sex implications :) i did this long ago so it sucks! ღ wc: 825

Sitting at the table and staring intently at the wood, she was still trying to adjust her dress so it wouldn’t slip over her shoulders, having not gotten the chance to fasten it properly. 

Just seconds ago, she couldn’t think about anything other than the feeling of his body close to hers, their lips pressed together and the heat of the room; now, she could only think about how to prevent her father from throwing a lightning bolt at Percy.

Next to her, Percy looked just as uneasy; he fidgeted nervously as her father gripped about how irresponsible and foolish they’d been. His eyes kept darting to the floor, to the walls, anywhere but at Zeus, who was ranting furiously. 

“Do you even know what you’re doing? For Gods’ sake, you’re so young! You could get… you know what!”

Zeus paced back and forth across the room, his eyes darting around like a predator circling its prey as his hands were planted on his hips. She turned to Percy, rolling her eyes with an exaggerated flair, and then bit her lip, exhausted by the endless cycle of this conversation. 

It was always the same, for God’s sake. She had heard it a thousand times: his disapproval, his anger, his worry. Nothing was ever different, and somehow, it always ended the same way.

“Seriously, you don’t want to have…” He paused for a second to point at Percy, his look of disgust so exaggerated that the boy couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. “…his kids.”

“And what if I do? What if I do want to have his kids?” She fired back without hesitation, her words cutting through the heated atmosphere like a blade. "What if I am having his babies?”

The room was so quiet now that the sound of a pin dropping would have been deafening.

Percy looked horrified, his wide eyes locked on her as he tapped her leg anxiously, trying to process what she had just said. Not that he wasn’t flattered; honestly, in his far-off, very far-off, future plans, having kids with her was definitely on the list. 

But this? Oh, no. This was how he was going to die. Zeus would absolutely kill him with his bare hands, no question about it.

She barely held in her laugh as her father’s face turned crimson. His jaw dropped, his lips parted into a grimace of pure disgust, and his eyebrows arched in an almost comical way.

She quickly covered her face with her hand to keep from bursting out laughing. “No, I’m not, but you should’ve seen your face!”

But Zeus was already consumed by rage. As thunder growled like an angry beast in the sky and the rain began to pour, he stormed toward the door, his anger crackling in the air around him. Without a second thought, he yanked the door open with a violent motion.

He pointed at Percy, who quickly jumped to his feet to explain himself. “Sir, I-”

“Get out of my house, now! I told her it was a bad idea, but no, she insisted on being with you! Stay away from her!” 

And he had no choice but to leave, like a stray dog being kicked to the streets. 

She felt torn, unsure of what to do next. Disobeying her father was the last thing she wanted,  but her heart was telling her to run after Percy. Zeus’s endless ranting grew louder, but they only became more distant.

Percy loved her, and she loved him –what else mattered?

Through the window, she saw Percy approach the gates, his body language defeated, head hanging low as he opened the small door. Her chest tightened as she  turned back to her father, offering a brief sideways smile, as if to apologize for what she was about to do.

Under his glare, she stood up from her chair, defying him.

“I'm sorry, daddy. I love him!”

“¡Don't even think-!” 

But she was already sprinting toward the open door, running outside and disregarding the shouting.

The rain struck her nearly naked body, her unbuttoned dress almost slipping from her shoulders, and her hair becoming drenched. She cried out his name, hoping he’d turn and notice her.

And he did, of course. 

He turned with a smile, one that had been on his face since he left the house; it was obvious, they had already talked about what to do if this situation came up. Standing with arms crossed was not an option.

Their bodies collided, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her up and spinning her through the air. 

“What took you too long?” He said with a grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement. 

“Sorry, just a little problem.” She replied, her tone light, her smile wide, feeling like nothing else in the world mattered except this moment between them.

Her father’s angry shouts, filled with condemnation and disbelief, rang in her ears as he yelled that they were out of their minds and that nothing they were doing could be accepted. But none of it mattered anymore. 

As they shared a kiss, sweet and drenched by the rain, everything else faded away. 

Yes, maybe they were crazy. But it was for love.

HI SORRY i have some heavy homework because i only have one week of school left!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! fiesta fiesta y si alguien tiene ideas para el remerón AYUDA NO SÉ QUE HACER!

[kissitbttr]

frat!miggy headcannons !!

frat!miguel masterlist

—

sfw !!

frat!miguel is the type to giggle and kick his feet up in the air when you tell him simple things like ‘i am so proud of you, baby’ or ‘look at how handsome you are, my big boy!’

frat!miguel gets jealous of small things. your fictional crushes. your girlfriends. your pet. your back spotter in the cheerleading team. gloria.

frat!miguel is also protective. very. to an extent where even you’re only standing five feet away from him at a party, his eyes will be locked in on you. arms crossed, nodding along to whatever his friend is saying in front of him. smiling like a lovesick puppy when he sees you laugh.

frat!miguel who would in seconds, kneel to tie your shoes when they see them undone. you don’t even have to ask.

frat!miguel plugs into his laptop, spending hours on his free time to look up cheerleading sports when both of you started dating. learning about the rules, routines, physical training, winning teams, tumblings, pyramids, etc. why, you ask? no idea.

frat!miguel is your own personal scary dog privilege. there is nothing about this man a golden retriever. especially at the gym. since you love wearing tight shorts and sports bra on leg days, he would stand a few feet apart behind. glaring to those who stares at his girlfriend’s juicy butt.

frat!miguel brings you flowers every weekend and send ones for your mother too. every once a week he goes out to play ball with your dad too. the man is surprised at how well your dad could throw.

frat!miguel who keeps stashes of condoms in his ‘special’ drawer since you stay over almost every day at the frat house. he figures that it’s better to be prepared than nothing. when really, he’s just one horny motherfucker.

frat!miguel who is so damn clingy that you have no clue on how to deal with it anymore. you could send this man a text of ‘bye, talk to you later, baby’ because you’re leaving for practice and he would spam you with

my miggy<3 : what? no!

my miggy<3 : wdym bye?!

my miggy<3 : princesa please don’t leave me!!!

my miggy<3 : i’d die💔💔💔

my miggy<3 : omg pleasepleaseplease come back

my miggy<3 : so you’re just going to let me die:(

frat!miguel who spends almost his entire junior and senior being fawned and gushed by other girls that he didn’t even think for a second to actually try. but for you? ask him to get you the moon, and he gives you saturn

frat!miguel asks you one day if he could be your boyfriend. not the other way around. not ‘can you be my girlfriend?’ because he’s threading lightly and he needs your permission

—

nsfw !!

frat!miguel is a large, large, man. he’s jacked bro. 6’9 and built like a damn linebacker. he’s big down there too, so it did take some time for you to get used to his size

frat!miguel loves fucking you. to no end. his stamina could go on for hours and he’s lucky enough to have you as his perfect match. ‘always fuck like damn rabbits’ is a review from glen

frat!miguel doesn’t care about whereabouts. if he’s horny and needed you, then you better get to it! (but of course, only if you’re comfortable)

frat!miguel prefers taking you from behind, he loooves seeing your ass bounce against him. it makes him lose his mind. guaranteed that it would be hard enough for him to last

frat!miguel is a sucker for eating your pussy. day and night, this man could have it for his five course meal. he loves it when you’re sitting on a chair, legs spread and tucked upwards while he’s just on his knees lapping at your cunt

frat!miguel loves having control but even more when you’re in charge. bouncing on his dick, not allowing him to touch you while rather just let him watch your tight pussy swallowing his cock.

frat!miguel gets off to your moans. they’re like music to his ears. how could one be so angelic and pornographic at the same time, shits crazy.

frat!miguel who has a breeding kink. he would go on about how he’s willing to knock you up during fucking, whispering in your ear that he’s going to put a baby in you.

frat!miguel is obsessed with your mouth. the head you give is top notch. you could do so much shit with your tongue around his cock than half of the girls he had before with their hands.

frat!miguel who’s lock-screen wallpaper is a selfie of you in the shower. hair wet, one arm covering your tits, puckered lips and doe eyes at the camera. head tilting to the side. it’s one you sent when he had texted you ‘what’s my girl doing today?’ during football practice. you look so damn cute and sexy, he just had to do it.

[gofishygo]

nikto + reader blurb

notes: mostly fluff, sex mentioned but no explicit scenes, slight body horror (nikto's scars), canon typical violence [mentions], god i love it when characters manage to heal and come to terms with their past and fall in love

honestly hoping n praying that nikto learns to live the softest n slowest life ever after meeting reader.

he's never gotten a day of comfort in his life, not after those interrogations. scared away both women and men in and outside of the military ever since then- face and body already nothing short of brutish and jagged angles, a bulk of muscle and fat that shadowed over every figure, weathered down to a near-macabre sight at the result of warfare. now the right half of his gum is exposed, torn apart by shrapnel and knife carvings that dragged across his face. sliced-off nostrils, yellow teeth poised at the world that had wronged him like a vulture preparing to feast- it was his unfortunate charm, the one that left him so often kicked out of brothels and whispered about in bars and revered in the barracks, smoking freely without disturbance in places where such had been outlawed years ago. of course he sees you- all keen and watching innocently, so starry eyed that it seems to blind you from his nature.

nikto would look down at his hands and see them as none further than machines. structured with bone and flesh to take down targets, but a puppet to the whims of the other voices that thrived only in his head. he was no more than the manifestation of his disorders, only set to take down the corpses that kortac had pointed at, the ones that kortac claimed to have wronged him.

and then you truly slip into his life, all doe-eyed and star-crossed. he thinks its none other than blasphemy, some sort of sick joke when you practically glue to him at the coffee shop, fixed on the crossword puzzles between his calloused hands. prodding around and occasionally chirping answers, some curious, but unfortunate, little thing that ended up right between his jaws. and he tries to spit you out, brush you off- your greetings at bars, parks, streetsides, alleyways none other than ignored with cold eyes and a masked face. but your laugh, sweet words- it trickles between cracks, melts the solute of stone, and soon enough, you're in his bed at seven am, tucked under his arm. he'd given you what you've wanted; held your body as gently as he had the ability to, growled some praise in your ear, let you sob into the pillows.

so he doesn't expect it when you show up at his door once again, oh-so-lovely smile on your face. certainly even more surprised when you keep coming, and cant deny the way his head goes a little fuzzy when he sees the notes you leave while he's in deployments, how you fold his sheets and put some flowers in a vase you'd bought that rested on his kitchen countertop. he leaves the door unlocked now, gives you the keys, and lets you in when the nights are cold.

you teach him things- how to tell if he's dreaming. learns to see his hands as more than accessories to murder, uses them as indicators to split his reality from the ones owned by his voices. you're teaching him how to make coffee and trim flowers and all he is learns is how to look at the world without staining it with blood. but it's okay- you help steady his shaking hands, hold the kettle of boiling water with him, and the weeks eventually unfurl into years.

and now, he wakes up next to you every morning, stays in bed cuddling with you until you reluctantly have to shove him away because although he's retired you still have a job, and he waters the plants and feeds the dogs outside, waiting only until you and the furry critters are well away to smoke. but it is not out of stress, no longer to rid himself of his heads, and more of a bad habit now. and the hole that the lack of conflict has left in him is so filled with you and your smile and your patience, with taking care of the garden, making coffee, helping with your paperwork. the never ending spurr of his voices still keeps him up at night sometimes, leaves him twitching. but it allows him to watch you fall asleep, feel your pulse under his cupped hand, even through the throbbing pain.

this is what life is meant to be like, maybe. taking off his mask and unbuckling the straps so he can feel your lips against what was left of his.

[vxiphoid]

SERENE SHENANIGANS

❨ summary �� twst › waking them up to tell them stories that don’t make sense

tags ✧ fluff, crack, savanaclaw boys, defo not proofread its like 7 am, cursing but nothing out of the ordinary, ooc(?), ruggie calls you a little shit like once (affectionate), jack is whipped for you

amanuensis’ message ⊹ I LITERALLY LOVE DOING THIS??? my friends hate me for it. but anyways hiii im back after like my month hiatus, how are thy sleeplings?😋 mb guys writers block has been really kicking my ass, i was spitting blanks on paper… i’m gonna hopefully post another pastry emporium soon for scarabia so stay tuned for that‼️

⌜ 300+ e/chara ⌟

♫ sunset boulevard - hohyun

twst masterlist

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

— “leona… pspsps….”

— he hums gruffly when his name was called the first time, only opening his eye thinking you called him a second time when it was really just noise that you would make to get the attention of a house cat. he instantly pins his ears back. how dare you. “hmm?”

— “so i took our snail for a walk and i had accidentally left my feet here to wash the dishes because the grass was blue.”

— huh? you could see him trying to process everything you just said as you explained, his lips parting and eyebrows furrowing. it took everything in you not to laugh. he does one of those blinks, the really delayed ones, one eye opens before the other…

— he’s half asleep too so the confusion is just adding up altogether. if chicken scratch wasn’t a writing term, this is literally it in words. its like the books back at home he picks up to read (derogatory) its, what, 4 am? dont do this to him😭

— you’ve never seen him so expressive💀 this definitely makes his eye and ear twitch at the same time. what type of fucked up fever dream is this?? its usually a blessing seeing you as the first thing he wakes up to, not when you wake him up with some bull strung up in a sentence with your beady eyes staring at him while he sleeps. he loves you, yes, but what does he even say to this…

— “what…”

— your forehead met with his chest as you struggled not to laugh at the uncharacteristic break in leona’s voice. how many cups of coffee did you drink? he asks you to repeat yourself even though it kinda a mind mush decision so you did and by the end of it, he looks absolutely restless.

— “that’s… yes. that’s great, herbivore. can we go to bed now?”

— you note that leona is surprisingly patient when half asleep

┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

JACK HOWL

— deep sleeper. tug his ear. though he practically springs up before your hand makes contact, giving himself whiplash.

— “jack?”

— almost instantly relaxes when he realizes its you, tail wagging subtly☹️ “hi, baby. s’something wrong?”

— “hiii, do you remember a year ahead ago when i had to go to the dentist to get my spine fixed and the cats were barking at the flying dogs because the sky was in the water?”

— bro feels like he just had a stroke💀 he’s blinking rapidly, rubbing nose bridge as you explain. he really wants to understand, he does, but wtf did you just say??? it was the innocent “hi” before you unapologetically bashed his head in with the entire dictionary. its so ridiculous he couldn’t help but laugh.

— “jack, this is serious.” even as you told him that, your voice was not steady at all which made his shoulders shake violently in silent laughter.

— “im listening, i swear. tell me one more time?” yk his ass is not listening. he pulls you into his lap while his thumbs idly rubbed your sides, responding to your stories with “uh-huh” and “yeah?” with a lovesick smile on his face.

— eventually holds your face and starts pressing heart squeezing, fluffy kisses all over your face which truly made you more tired then you were. you honestly start forgetting what and where the story was going.

— jack only pauses his kissing attack to respond when you take a small break but even then he doesn’t pull away fully, he’s just speaking against your skin

— “—and the duck had my arm while i was taking it on a walk because gran tammy was in a flying shopping cart.”

— “oh wow. and then?”

— he’s listening but he’s not, mostly because he’s like two seconds away from dreamland and his brain isn’t registering half the shit you’re saying. he wants to see how many stories you can jumble up.

— “yeah, i think it’s bedtime for us…”

┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

RUGGIE BUCCHI

— omfg he wakes up like a mom. like yk how you would barely touch them and they would gasp like they were just given cpr?? he wakes up like that.

— and you’re just standing there awkwardly 👁️👁️

— takes a quick look around before looking at you. “what happened? is it time to wake up leona already?” you shake your head and ruggie flops back, an arm draped over his eyes. “you scared me… come, lay down with me?” he held his free arm out for you and you did take your place cozied up against his side. to your surprise, you did actually scare the living shit out of him from how fast his heart was racing.

— “ruggie, yk i just found out you’re related to turtles, right? and i had to take uncle bobby to the vet to get a dna test because the fish drowned in air.”

— slow roblox turn towards you but instead its his head as he cranes it down to stare at you. you can practically hear the gears in his head turning and you literally could not look at him or you’d blow your cover.🧍🏾

— “i’m sorry,, what the fuck??”

— he’s genuinely confused, asking you questions about your story while his brain tries to put together the pieces. each question he asks, the more its harder to speak in full sentences other than wheezes

— “what are you laughing at, ya little shit? explain this to me!”

— “i’m trying!”

— and you are😭 its like when you have to explain the family tree really slow bc you cant say, “my father’s girlfriend’s son” without him like ???? and you’re trying to explain it to him slowly, eventually forgetting what you said in the first place…

— “…and the fish drowned in air.”

— “yes.”

— “sweetheart, you still haven’t explained how i’m related to turtles—”

[starjunkyard]

Sorry i genuinely feel like im going fucking crazy What do u mean wilson's ex-wife named their dog after an anagram for Doctor Greg House What do u mean she'd resented house since the very beginning of their marriage solely because wilson was always there for him but never for HIS OWN WIFE "You always needed him, and he was always there for you." "You knew he had a wife waiting at home; you didn't care." "I'm not saying you broke up the marriage, but you didn't help." Is anyone else hearing this .am i going crazy

"When we had people over, he'd nip at their ankles." Ohhhhhhhhhthefuckiiinnggggggg THEFUCKING That statement being a metaphor for how house drives every prospective spouse of Wilson's away Theway house growls and snaps and bites and lashes out at anyone who even shows a single shred of romantic interest towards wilson. Allof wilson's ex-wives canonically actually fucking hating house's guts because of how close he was (and is) with wilson in a way that he was never able to be with them

House gives out bribes so he can acquire confidential personal information about and to blackmail wilson's girlfriends Willgo to their workplaces so he can Talk AboutWILSON Will bark and snap at anything and everything and protect wilson from NOTHING Willscare away anyone who even tries to get close to wilson instinctively intrinsically irrationally Almost AnimalisticallyKILLS YOU KILLS YOU KILLS YOU KILLS YOUUUUUUUUUU))/!!:):):7/)£:);6:£7:7:

Animal motifs OHHHHHHHAnimal motifs FUCK . Fuck. House loves wilson like a dog. Masters will abandon their dogs in the middle of dirt roads and drive off and their dogs will chase after them until their paws are oozing bloodied raw and numb Masterswill shun and kick and starve their dogs and maybe the dog will fight back. Maybe the dog will bare its teeth growl and bite But a dog's loyalty isn't something you can ever beat out of it . Loyalty is hardwired into a dog's dna Loyalty that is blind irrational and suffocating that transcends logic and reason that is Branded and Burnt into their genetic makeup until it becomes their achilles heel; the thing thatwill end up killingthem The thing that keeps them crawling back to their masters no matter what no matter what No Matter What

[5sospenguinqueen]

Tantrums Pt 2 | Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Summary: After flushing a ten year relationship down the drain, Lewis realises he wants nothing more than to win you back. Especially when he sees you doing everything in your will to make him suffer.

Warnings: slight age gap, reader is 32. angst. swearing. pettiness

Requested: @madelynn-sienna and a whole bunch of you on part 1

F1 Masterlist

This is a long one, sorry

prev.

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roscoelovescoco just posted

liked by albon_pets, charles_leclerc and others

roscoelovescoco i am’s 12 today’s 🥳 thanks for’s all’s the birthday’s love’s. just as handsome’s as ever’s

44,985 comments

lewishamilton happy birthday to my boy

yn_ln oh, i miss when he was that little. happy birthday to my cutest boy 💕

user1 not yn and lewis both using my boy instead of our boy 

user2 i feel like lewis was behind this post ‘cause he used the cutest pic of him and roscoe

→ user3 yes, he looks so boyfriend coded in this 

→ user4 i feel like that’s the point? 

→ user5 i bet it’s because he’s trying to remind yn of how much she loves her boys

→ user4 but this doesn’t even include yn’s face

albon_pets happy birthday, roscoe! love from the whole gang

user6 everyone is saying lewis posted this to win yn back but i actually feel he’s posting this as a snub

→ user7 he hasn’t included yn’s face despite there being millions of pics of her and roscoe. like, that’s been her dog as well for the past 10 years

→ user8 i feel like these two are going to be really petty. i mean, look at how brocedes went

→ user9 i feel like you can’t let go of a 10 year relationship and not be slightly petty

user10 okay but lewis looks so good in this 

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tagheuer just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing and others

tagheuer counting down to race time with our formula one collection ambassadors  tagged: maxverstappen1, yn_ln

33,239 comments

yn_ln i think we all know who looks the best though 

→ maxverstappen1 fire her

user1 queen’s been booked and busy lmao

user2 not the red bull brand

redbullracing the best looking ambassadors i’ve ever seen

user3 tag putting yn and max in the same post? does this mean they modelled together?

→ user4 she’s an ambassador for a brand that solely sponsors red bull and is showcasing their f1 collection. of course they modelled together

→ user5 we love to see it

user6 i bet lewis is frothing!

user7 we know who red bull is picking in the divorce 

→ user8 like there was ever a question

user9 i just feel like george will be the one to show this to lewis by going “what do you think about this watch?” 

→ user10 omg yes, he’ll show yn’s pic and say “do you think carmen would like this?” just to watch lewis realise who the model is liked by carmenmmundt 

user11 i know she’s a model so will take the jobs she’s offered but i definitely feel like she accepted this to be a little petty

→ user12 what are the odds that she accepted it with a giggle 

→ user13 as she should

redbullracing just posted

liked by carmenmmundt, schecoperez and others

redbullracing kicking off the mexican grand prix with some famous faces  tagged: yn_ln

23,109 comments

maxverstappen1 famous faces? the only one i recognise here is me

→ yn_ln ha ha ha you’re hilarious.

→ user1 max and yn being besties? when did this happen?

→ yn_ln when we did our shoot for tag and he stuck by my side the entire time. like a child forced into a room with a bunch of their mum’s friends

→ maxverstappen1 you were the only person i knew! 

user2 oh, this isn’t what i was expecting to see when i opened insta 

mercedesamgf1 give her back

→ user3 messy

georgerussell63 oi, she doesn’t belong to you 

→ user4 carmen clearly supports this move

→ georgerussell63 carmen! we can see that you liked this

user5 does this mean lewis and yn are truly over?

→ user6 no! i refuse to accept that this is how it ends 

user7 lewis must be seething 

user8 if anyone hears any loud crashes, that’s lewis throwing things 

landonorris can we have you next?

→ oscarpiastri they seriously need to take away your media 

user9 streets are saying that max was the one who invited her?

user10 please, red bull, fix that damn car so max qualifies at the top, away from lewis, because i fear for our boy’s safety after this 

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yn_ln just posted

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, nicorosberg and others

yn_ln is this what you call an everyday car? 

19,406 comments

user1 wait, what happened to her ferrari?

charles_leclerc i feel betrayed 

→ yn_ln it’s not about you, i promise

porsche a pretty car for a pretty girl 

→ yn_ln my dream car

→ user2 since, uh, when?

user3 is she starting a new collection of cars or is this in lieu of the ferrari?

→ user4 i fear she got rid of the ferrari 

→ user5 or she’s kept it and just has the porsche in addition

user6 this is definitely a deliberate post. lewis bought her her dream car for their anniversary and not even months later, she’s buying a porsche?

→ user7 she can have more than one car

→ user8 yeah but she’s never been a multiple car owner and like user said. the ferrari was her dream car

user9 this feels like a dig at lewis

user10 i say good for her. a man wasted her time so she’s wasting his “gift”

user11 ultimate power move. if only red bull were still aston martin so she could’ve picked aston martin

user12 i bet lewis got mad at her for being in the red bull garage and she decided to wind him up further

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yn_ln just posted

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, roscoelovescoco and others

yn_ln 🖤💋

21,966 comments

carmenmmundt jaw droppped

→ yn_ln 🩷

user1 who is that man?

user2 she thought she could distract us with how hot she looks but we see that man, sis

user3 i hope this one treats her right and gives her everything she deserves

user4 bride yn incoming with a man who will marry her

francisca.cgomes i need that dress and the body in it

→ yn_ln i’ll send you the link, my gorgeous girl

user5 i’m glad she’s moving on because lewis did her dirty so it’s nice to see her recovering from that 

georgerussell63 what’s all this then

→ user6 omg guys, george commented

→ user7 and?

→ user8 he hasn’t commented on any of her posts since her and lewis broke up. does this confirm that the guy in the pic is lewis?

→ user9 may your delulu come trululu

user10 i can’t deal with this today. i know yn deserves the best but she can’t move on

user11 i’m actually in mourning. wdym she’s moving on and getting super hot pics from it

lewishamilton 😅🫣

→ user12 excuse me? i found this comment hidden 1000s of comments down but excuse me?! 

→ user13 what does this mean?!

→ user14 mate, if you want to win her back, you need to try harder

→ user15 he heard people talking about hot she looked and decided to hit her up

→ user16 this is such a pathetic attempt. what happened to his rizz

→ user17 looks like yn took it with her

yn_ln added a new story

lewishamilton added a new story

charles_leclerc added a new story

replies (tweet 1 and 3 are supposed to be swapped)

user1 @/tweet3 she was! kym illman posted her on instagram as their guest for the weekend

→ user2 she had a merc pass and everything

user3 i want to know who invited her and why. she doesn’t model for tommy anymore so she’d have no reason to be their guest

→ user4 i bet it was george

→ user5 nah. toto did it to throw lewis off so he could make his “shelf life” comment look real

user6 the real question is, did lewis know she was going to be there

user7 @/tweet2 we waited 10 years for lewis and yn’s wedding and we don’t get one ever?

→ user8 they broke up. we weren’t getting one anyway?

→ user7 streets are saying that yn and lewis got married in vegas

→ user8 be fucking real. he broke her heart

user9 @/tweet1 fully agree. i bet it was max and charles instead haha

→ danielricciardo he can back off my man! 

→ user10 omg daniel. he may not be on the grid but max is his forever 

user11 people are speculating that they got married because he posted a picture of a chapel?

→ user12 i know. that could mean literally anything?

user13 all the drivers were drunk celebrating max’s fourth wdc so i’m betting it’s a driver marrying another driver instead

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9 months

lewishamilton just posted

liked by nicorosberg, mclaren and others

lewishamilton my whole world

50,440 comments

roscoelovescoco the’s cutest’s sister in all’s the world’s 

user1 the man famous for long captions and he only gives us 3 words?! where’s the details!!

user2 when did this happen!!!

user3 and she has a wedding ring on? they definitely got married in vegas 

user4 guys, she's just changed her name on socials!

georgerussell63 what happens in vegas, does NOT stay in vegas 

charles_leclerc @/alexandrasaintmleux see, i told you we needed a dog AND a baby 

→ yn_hamilton are you going to push the baby out?

→ charles_leclerc i would if biology let me

→ yn_hamilton @/lewishamilton why did you never say this to me?

→ lewishamilton i knew letting you two be friends was a bad idea

yn_hamilton i still can’t believe you brought the ring to vegas

→ lewishamilton i was feeling lucky 

mercedesamgf1 you don’t tell us you got married and now you don’t tell us about the baby

→ scuderiaferrari he’s not your driver anymore?

→ mercedesamgf1 oop, my bad. used to seeing his name and being responsible for his pr

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Baby Fever Angst Series

requests open

tag list

@how-what-why-huh @bibissparkles @strengthandstay @raynetargaryan2 @seonghwaexile @unknownmystery22 @hoeforsirius @jackandsallyandbuttonandsparrow @mbioooo0000 @unstablefemme @strawb3heart @wearethecanadians @ajordan2020 @topaz125 @seasonswinter @fearfam69691 @evie-119 @be-your-coffee-pot @myescapefromthislife @madelynn-sienna @heavy-vettel

[s-i-ll-y-w-i-ll-y]

Murder Dads

Hannigram x Child!reader

(Platonic Ofc)

Summary: Y/n had a good home life, that was until they found out it was all a lie. Fortunately, they had two people who treated them well and gave them the life they wanted.

(Nah bc I acc love the idea of this sm and I am PRAYING you all love it too-)

TW! Implied/Mention of kidnapping, mention of drugging, death, description of death/dead bodies, passing out, mention of/implied murder-suicide and mention of infertility.

~~~~

A loud crash from down the hall caused you to jolt upright in your bed. The cool air seeped through the thin cloth of your shirt as you stepped out from under the covers and locked the door across from your bed.

You jumped out your skin as footsteps raced up and down the hall, the slim line of light under your door slipped into your room, the faint shadow of two sets of shoes lingered outside. Heart racing quickly, you rushed to your wardrobe and hid between the tops and trousers piled in each corner.

A loud crash echoed throughout the room, the yellow candle light from the hallway chandelier leaked into the room, letting the dressers and cast aside shoes and toys bask in the beautiful glow.

“Search the room.” A tall man in a black jacket barked at a group of soldiers, giving them orders as they raced to check every spot in the room. Under the bed, behind the curtains, beneath dressers. Anywhere and everywhere.

But fear jolted through your body as one walked over and reached for the handle on the wardrobe. The bright white light of their torch as it flashed in your eyes made you flinch.

“Found the kid.” The soldier yelled over to the man, making the man in charge race over as they pulled you out.

You kicked and squirmed to get out of the soldiers grasp but couldn’t. The man in charge looked down at you, urging you to be calm.

“My name is Agent Crawford of the FBI. You have nothing to worry about, you’re safe now.” He smiled softly, not expecting the harsh kick to the stomach you gave him.

A single gunshot echoed down the hall as well as two thuds.

“Mama?” You called out.

Enough squirming finally became useful as the soldier loosened his grip to much and you ran off. Panting like a dog, you rushed down the hall until you got to the master bedroom. You came to a halt, seeing blood cover the hard wood floor and the body of your Mama and Papa sprawled out. A knife lay in your Papa’s hand, his grip slowly loosening and his eyes briefly glancing at you before softly gazing off into the distance.

The colour drained from your face as realisation set in.

As you tried to run over, a hand caught the back of your shirt. Tears spilled out your eyes and rolled down your cheeks as you fought against whoever was holding you back. You yelped quickly as they pulled you into their embrace holding you tightly against their chest. The slow rise and fall of their breathing calmed you slightly as they held you in place, not letting go no matter how hard you struggled.

Pain stung your soul as you were dragged away from the scene, watching everyone else allowed in. Everyone was able to see them except you. Their child.

“I’m going to set you down now, can you promise to not run?” The voice hummed through your body as they kept their hold on you. Their voice was soft but rough, round yet pointy, like the sharp end of a dull pencil. An accent as well. Not one you had heard before- or ever. It was pretty though.

A small nod was all they needed to trust you.

They gently set you down with a grunt and watched as you turned to face them. He was a well-dressed man, in his mid 50’s with greying hair and nice brown eyes. You gazed up at him and saw him reach for your face. Worry set in and you reacted the only way you knew how.

Fear and acceptance.

You clamped your eyes shut and braced for him to strike you. Instead he tussled your hair, his touched moving down to hold your shoulder.

“Theres no need to worry.” He started, bending slightly to be at your level. “You’re safe with me.”

You felt tears run down your face as you opened your eyes. Staring at him, a look of happiness settled as well as a soft smile as you hugged him. You clung to his midsection, feeling his arms embrace you, one hand tangling in your hair and the other rubbing your shoulder.

Someone gently cleared their throat from behind you, causing you to begrudgingly let go and turn. Another tall man, thinner framed than the one behind you, with casual clothes on, messy brown hair and thin rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose.

“Dr. Lecter, can I speak to you over here?” He asked.

A soft hum left Dr Lecter’s lips as he stepped around you and walked away with the other man.

Curiosity got the better of you as you spotted most police and FBI agents trying to get press away from the windows, giving you the opportunity to see your mama and papa.

Quickly and quietly, you waltzed into their bedroom, under the crime scene tape. You saw the blood that rolled from your mama’s lifeless body. Gallons seemed to have drained from the wound in her chest. Her eyes were cold, desolat of any feeling or emotion. She was half covered in a black bag, yellow pieces of paper with numbers in bold surrounded the cornered off area.

The floorboards screeched under your weight as you knelt next to her, brushed the bloodied hair off of her face. A sob left your lips as you looked at her. She always said she’d never leave you, not after the deal of issues she and papa had went through to get you. She made sure you knew she wouldn’t leave your side.

She hadn’t lied fully. You were beside her. She just didn’t know.

You hadn’t realised the river of tears sinking into your shirt and the amount of sobs that echoed in the room.

Heavy boots raced to your spot, grabbing you under your shoulders and dragging you out of the taped off area. Your body began trembling. The adults surrounding you watched and began trying to help you as you shook like a leaf in the wind. All their words blurred as you fell into someone’s arms.

~~~~~~~~

Your eyes opened slowly, analysing your surroundings. The soft beeping of a heart monitor, machines huddled around the twin bed, dull walls empty of anything other than scattered motivational posters.

A hospital room.

“Good. You’re awake.”

A gasp left your jaw agape as your gaze shot over to the speaker.

“My Name is Will Graham, this is Dr. Hannibal Lecter. We both work with the FBI and wanted to speak with you about your abductors.”

“Abductors.?”

Dr. Lecter folded his jacket and placed it on a chair beside him. He stepped forward and placed a hand on the guard on the edge of the bed. “The people in this drawing.”

He placed a sheet of brightly coloured paper on your lap. A crudely scribbled sketch of a family of three stretched across a plain sheet of paper with your name on the bottom left corner. The family was your mama, your papa and you.

“The perfect, happy family.” Your papa always said.

You listened closely as they began to explain who your ‘parents’ were.

Drug smugglers. Human traffickers.

Mafia boss father and mother who dabbled in modelling. They had wanted kids with each other since they met, but found out your mama was infertile.

That’s where you came into the equation. They saw you at the park with your family and just knew the three of you would be perfect together.

So, of course, they stalked you and your family. They found out your school, when your parents went to work, when you’d be alone with a nanny. Apparently, one day your old nanny went ‘missing’ so your parents hired a new one.

Dr. Lecter suspected that you were either unconscious when your parents were killed or suppressed the memory. You couldn’t remember it if you tried your hardest.

Your face contorted as you heard your mama and papa had drugged you with each meal to keep your their little angel.

Oblivious and innocent was what they wanted.

It was what they needed.

Your heart sunk as Mr Graham spoke about how your father had lost all their money in casinos and splurging on stuff he wouldn’t need.

To save himself and his wife from their investors hunting them down and spending hours torturing them before killing them, he decided to commit to a murder-suicide plan.

Turns out that Mr Graham had been the one to shoot your papa right as he had plunged the knife deep into your mama’s chest.

Your breath hitched as you thought about how horrible that must have been. Life of both yourself and your wife’s fading in front of you as an agent drags your child away. No chance to say goodbye. No nothing.

You sobbed into your palms as you held yourself still, threatening to tremble once again.

Dr Lecter placed a palm on your back, rubbing gentle circles into your skin and assuring you that ‘Everything would be okay in the end.’

For weeks you waited for that good end.

You were cooped up in that small hospital room for what felt like years until you were finally permitted to leave under supervision.

That supervision was, of course, Dr Lecter and Mr Graham.

When you were out they would take you to cafes and restaurants you liked, as well as clothes shopping and toy shops. They gave you everything you wanted.

Dr Lecter brought you to his house at some point too. He cooked for you and let you hang around his kitchen and watch. After some time Mr Graham came to the door, surprised to see you answer.

Will threw you over his shoulder, delivering you to Dr Lecter. He gently placed you down next to him before closing the oven door.

“Could you two set up the dining table for me? I forgot to do it earlier.” He said softly, going back to chopping up vegetables.

You and Will grabbed some cutlery and began placing things down where you were kinda sure they went. Needless to say, Dr Lecter had to rearrange them all.

After a lesson on how to set a table properly, you were allowed to start eating.

Hannibal smiled as he saw you happily chewing away. He hadn’t seen you smile properly before and he thought it was adorable, especially due to the fact that it was at his cooking. Such a small creature that had been through so much yet still had a smile on its face.

Will had taken notice as he watched you guzzle down your food. His gaze focussed on you before glancing at Hannibal, as if communicating with him. Hannibal looked back and smirked softly.

You looked at them as you finished your food, seeing that had been done for a while. A gentle apology left your mouth before Hannibal swiped yours and Will’s plates away.

Will walked towards you and took your hand in his, saying he had an amazing surprise for you. He guided you upstairs and to a door with a white sign on the handle,

‘Y/n’s Room’

You looked up at him, eyes shining with wonder and he opened the door.

The door rolled open with a loud creak and stopped just before hitting the wall. Will flicked on the light and presented a room- your new room. You quickly stepped inside and began to explore but stopped at a burgundy desk pressed up against the wall below a window.

On the desk was a paper with lots and lots of writing you would never read. You heard Hannibal’s footsteps come upstairs and stop at the doorway, watching with Will as you read the title of the sheet.

‘Adoption Papers for Y/N L/N’

~~~~~~~~

Finished Sunday 14th of January 2024 3:01 AM.