#I know you’re just pointing out people missing the obvious
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Ironically I caught that fully, and despite the fandom making jokes about it I didn’t realize the Brony ties until I read that clarifying comment, fully forgot they existed.
Personally I also think the reason Jimmy conflates the Baby & Anya with Polle is because I think he blames Pony Express for what he did to Anya, in a “bunch of men on a ship with only one woman and no outlet for over a year what does the company expect?!” kind of way. Blame anyone else rather than take responsibility for his own actions
I find it so funny that the wiki for mouthwashing clarifies that Jimmy's cartoon horse comment to anya Wasn't making a reference to bronies and was, in fact, referring to the Countless Images Of The Mascot Of Pony Express Littered Around The Ship. because I guess some people missed that.
#Mouthwashing#not to get serious on your post op sorry about that#I know you’re just pointing out people missing the obvious#kind of like people also decided Jimmy was so sickly in love with curly and couldn’t deal#rather than being an incredibly selfish coward who wants everything for nothing#and wants to give back captainhood when he realizes it isn’t simple or easy and adoration is earned#it’s wild how a short game with a very tight focus and several interconnected themes#still causes so many people to miss the point. you could probably do a case study on it tbh
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Imagine best friend Mattheo being absolutely obsessed with his innocent little Hufflepuff bsf but she just can’t tell. Everyone else knows, and it is quite obvious, but she just can’t think someone like him would want someone like her. But when she jokingly says she’s gonna get Cedric to take her virginity he decides it’s time he came clean.
Possibly with some soft smut if you are comfortable with it of course
bsf mattheo riddle x hufflepuff reader
hopefully this matches your request <3 i’ll most likely make a part 2 for this because.. you’ll see ;) 3.5k words
you lived a rather simple uncomplicated life, attending hogwarts as a hufflepuff with no interest in anyone’s drama. though you kept to yourself most times you tried to be nice to all your peers maintaining your classic hufflepuff demeanor, despite this there was one thing that was different about you.
you see, you didn’t see or understand why people don’t like other houses just because of “house rivalry” especially the students who weren’t even participating in any sports or point winning. and with this over your years though you had few friends you had one best friend who at first seemed rather impossible to be friends with.. mattheo riddle.
when you two met you were a fourth year and him a fifth, coincidentally you were going on to a few friends about your annoyance with people automatically assuming the worst of slytherin even though you yourself weren’t in their house or nearly like one. mattheo overheard this heated- adorable voice coming from behind him and he walked towards you carefully.
he sat down in front of you beside your friend as she gawked faces towards you at his presence. “you don’t think we’re too mean, huh?” he questioned small laugh leaving his lips. “i just think that some people are misunderstood and just because some wizards turned out bad doesn’t mean all of them in your house are” you looked at him answering his question with ease
he smirked in amusement and leaned a little closer to you “hm, hufflepuff eh? what year are you puff?” he sat back examining you and you didn’t fail to notice that nickname he slipped in “fourth year but i have an early birthday which is annoying because i could technically be out sooner” you sighed ignoring his staring.
“well, seeing as it’s ravenclaw against gryffindor do you wanna watch the quidditch game with me i know the best view” he stood up and held his hand out for you, you look towards your friends and they’re both nodding their heads for you to go so you did.
from that point on you and mattheo had been best friends, sadly he was in his seventh year and now you in your sixth nothing much had changed in your life. living vicariously through mattheo and his stories about slytherin parties and how you should go to one with him before it’s too late, he’d tell you about his sexual adventures and your jaw would drop everytime.
you yourself also confided in him though with much less interesting things, telling him how you feel unlikeable by guys sometimes because they never try to get or talk to you, or how you feel lonely because you’ve never had a a boyfriend before. hed always help soothe the thoughts away, telling you that it’s only your brain making those things up , “listen y/n, anyone who doesn’t love you is fucking insane”.
𓆙
talking to your friend zarah who’d been there since day one you always told her what you told matt, for the most part. “i just don’t get why nobody is interested in me zar, like am i genuinely that ugly” you plopped onto your bed sighing dramatically. “you’re not ugly and if you think no guys want you you’re blind i know one in particular that really, really wants you” she giggled.
you looked at her with a confused expression “i must be missing something because i have no idea who you’re talking about” you awaited her response and she just rolled her eyes and sighed “girl your practically boyfriend of a best friend you do everything with” she gave you a duh look and you just laughed. you genuinely couldn’t believe she’d even think he’d like you especially with all the girls he’d been with, “you’re hilarious, we both know he doesn’t want me he wants all the girls he tells me about” you started to compose yourself but zarah’s expression didn’t change.
“you literally must be blind y/n do you need glasses? or should i say puff? let’s talk about how that man hasn’t stopped calling you that pet name since you’ve met.. he’s in love” she rolled her eyes raising her hands in the air. “i still don’t think he wants me so there’s no convincing me” you shrugged her off and she groaned getting up and leaving your shared dorm.
𓆙
“puff you gotta come to this party, slytherin won agains gryffindor i just know this is gonna be the party you want to go to pleaseee” mattheo put his hands on your shoulders shaking you “fiinee” you attempted to answer between shakes before he let you go “if i would’ve known it was that easy i would’ve done that years ago” he rolled his eyes.
“anyways it’s tonight at like 8 so i’ll just get you from your dorm at like 7 do you think they’ll let me in? actually what’s the password?” he didn’t give you time to finish any of your sentences before you just gave him the password “butterscotch” you whispered, in response mattheo laughed “fucking butterscotch merlin that’s hilarious” you looked up at him and rolled your eyes walking away.
“i’ll see you at 7 puff” he yelled across the hall and you just gave a thumbs up and continued walking. you honestly were quite nervous seeing as you’ve never necessarily been to a party before, you’ve made small appearances at hufflepuff parties but you’ve heard they don’t even compare to slytherin.
making your way into your dorm you spot zarah and you pull her up from the common room couch “i finally said yes to a party need help now” you quickly mumbled and she quickened her pace “when does it start girl i need the info right this second come on you’re talking too long for me” she rushed and you blurted it all out “8pm he’s getting me at 7 he has the password he will be at the dorm” closing the door behind you two you both stopped to catch your breath
“sooo is it a dateee” she shimmied her arm on you winking “i already told you he doesn’t like me!!” you replied to her relentlessness. “ugh whatever we need to get you ready girl it’s already six” she pushed you onto your shared vanity chair and pulled out all of your makeup and a few things of hers, “creative control?” she asked smirking at you “mm fine but not too much” you agreed “we’ll see” she giggled.
after around 30 minutes she finished your makeup and she showed you the finished product, looking at yourself in the mirror you thought how you never would’ve put on red lipstick yet you feel really good in it. she gave you a small smokey eye and a small winged liner and you felt you looked more aggressive then you were, but you kinda loved it.
“it’s so much but so pretty” you admired yourself and the makeup she put on you slowly getting used to the feeling of fake eyelashes on your eyes. “i’m so glad you love it, but we need to find an outfit like three hours ago” she joked and rushed to your closets “i actually have the perfect dress in mind if you’re feeling the want to rep slytherin green” she raised her eyebrows up at you in a suggestive matter “sure why not” you shrugged
she handed you a velvet body con forest green dress that you were sure was going to be extremely short and you mean in every place. she held it up onto you “this will be perfect. get it on come on” she rushed you into the bathroom and you began putting it on “this is sooo tight” you called out as you struggled “oh i forgot it was a corset back wait i need to help you can i come in” she yelled through the door
“yeah come on i need this thing one me already” you struggled more as she walked in and immediately began to help you loosening the strings of the dress and pulling it down onto you “there we go now suck in like your life depends on it” she said half jokingly and began retightening the corset back. with every pull it felt like your chest was spilling out more and more and your ribs were shrinking “okay merlin that’s enough before i can’t breathe” you huffed and she stopped tying it off in a bow
“stop you look so hot y/n i bet matt will be drooling” she teased and you just rolled your eyes “what do we do with my hair” you looked at her with horror as you only had ten minutes before he should arrive. you quickly began curling your hair not really caring if it was messy just giving it some body and just as you were spraying perfume on there was a knock on your door.
zarah looked at you and whispered “answer it go go now” she pointed to the door like she was afraid to touch it herself and you walked over opening it to see mattheo in an all black button down with the top few buttons undone and black dress looking pants yet somehow he didn’t look overdressed. he didn’t say anything for a minute he was just staring at you looking up and down in awe “holy fuck y/n who did your makeup you look woah” he put his finger on your chin moving your head around examining your makeup
“zarah isn’t it pretty” you smiled and he removed his hand and replied “yeah you are, now let’s go” he grabbed your hand and you looked behind you waving bye to zarah “he’s so in love with you” she whispered before the door slammed closed.
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once you got the the party you noticed there were already many slytherins already pregaming and mattheo brought you two to them, “let’s get some alcohol in you little puff” he winked and poured you a shot of who knows what, you smelled the foul drink and it made your nose burn “come on do ittt” he cheered on and you held your nose throwing the shot back gagging at the taste. “how do people enjoy that” you made a face at him “like this” he replied taking two shots himself, “now catch up” he winked pouring you yet another
“if i didn’t know any better id say you’re trying to get me drunk matt” you laughed and he looked at you amused “obviously that’s what im trying to do it’s a party” he put the shot glass to your lips and you parted them taking the burning substance down your throat, “eugh that didn’t get any better the second time” you shook your head in disgust. “hm, let me make you an actual drink” he grabbed a clear liquor and a red juice mixing them together adding more alcohol than your past two shots and handed it to you
“matt this smells foul” you looked up at him, “just try it trust me the slytherins have the masking drink down” he winked and you reluctantly took a sip, and to your surprise all you tasted was juice. after taking another few sips you quick began drinking it and mattheo pulled the cup from your lips “slow down there this shits dangerous you’ll get so drunk you won’t be able to walk straight” he chuckled. “it’s not my fault they made it taste like juice” you shrugged still sipping.
“hey mattheo have your little hufflepuff take some shots with us” enzo threw his arm around your shoulders and mattheo pushed them off almost immediately “no she doesn’t need any shots” he spoke “you didn’t even ask me” you protested, granted you didn’t necessarily want to take any shots you just didn’t like being talked for. “oo are you sure you’re not slytherin you got an attitude” enzo laughed handing you a shot and you looked at mattheo who rolled his eyes as you took the shot.
throwing the shot back the burning sensation took over your throat and you could feel it rushing down your throat. you coughed a bit and chugged your drink for comfort “puff you’re going to get shitfaced slow down” matt fully took your cup this time and you were already feeling it. giggling looking up at him “okay now who was going to tell me party’s are fun” you continued giggling.
the music started playing and the slytherin common room was now getting more and more packed. you saw fifth year students and up in here, even a few ravenclaw and hufflepuffs your recognized. to your surprise in the corner of the party you spotted cedric diggory talking to a group of girls holding a drink.
pansy noticed your head being stuck in a certain direction and followed your eyes “oh em gee, someone’s got their eyes on a certain hufflepuff” she winked shoving her shoulder at your “shhhhh he’s just nice to look at” you giggled at her and she giggled along “you two would be soo cute” she added dragging you back to the drinks
“let’s take some shots!” she exclaimed handing you two , you took them smiling and shot them back with her, a woo leaving her mouth. “here chaser, chaser!” she shouted handing you another drink this time what looked like a lot of the punch, downing it all she laughed “girl we’re gonna be gone”. looking around you were seeing doubles of everything but didn’t want the night to already end.
“so, are you a virgin?” pansy shouted over the music making your already alcohol flushed face even redder “pansy!! you can’t just ask that!!” you shouted back flustered at the intrusive question, “i’m only curious girl” she giggled and gave you begging eyes “come onnnn” she shook you till you gave in “fine yes i am but don’t tell anyone!” you replied back as lowly as you could over the music
“who would you lose it to?” she giggled “i lost mine to blaise hehe sshhhh” she winked, considering she just told you her secret you felt obligated and just looked around “i mean i guess cedric” you giggled as she pointed at him after your response. before she could say anything else you felt a pair of hands wrap around your waist and drag you off. trying to kick your way out was useless and they brought you to an empty dorm.
through all of this you couldn’t tell who it was kicking and screaming for them to let you go till you heard mattheos voice “puff calm down it’s just me” he sighed putting you down on what you now assumed was his bed “why did you bring me in here that was so scary” you huffed trying to gain your composure. “diggory?” he scoffed not answering your question.
you looked at him confused as to what he was on about “what do you mean? what about cedric” you cocked your head to the side in confusion “you lost your virginity to him??” he questioned stepping closer to you looking rather.. pissed. you just laughed in response “me? lose my virginity to cedric?.. you’re funny” yeah you fantasized about it but it certainly wouldn’t happen.
“what were you talking to pansy about then??” he looked at you unconvinced, “she asked if i lost it and i said no, but id let him take it.-“ you shrugged “besides you know i tell you everything matt i’ve never even had a boyfriend let alone a guy be interested in my virginity” you sighed laying back onto the bed now feeling upset.
you heard mattheo sigh and you picked your head up to look at him, his eyes stared back at you in silence before breaking it “believe me there’s a lot of guys who want to get in your pants” he rubbed his fists and you gave him a confused expression yet again “what are you on about matt?” you were getting sober just from all of this extra mystery.
he walked over to the bed sitting beside you, “listen when we met you were just.. blooming completely and i would be lying if i didn’t say i first went up to you because of your looks.. well overtime you know we became friends and i noticed other guys staring in ways they shouldn’t have been so i had to teach them a lesson.” he looked at you and yo didn’t know how to respond to something like that.
“what exactly are you saying matt?” you didnt understand what he was poking at, did matt mean to say he basically likes you? were you reading too much into this? “look y/n, no one else in this school fucking deserves you. hell i don’t deserve you but i know i can treat you how you need. don’t ask me what took so long to confess to you y/n, but do you feel even remotely the same?” he let it all out quick and fast, and your mouth dropped.
“you want.. me?” you looked at him in disbelief and he just smiled “that’s what that whole speech was about, yeah” he chuckled nervously awaiting your reply “why?” you sighed still slightly unconvinced “have you fucking seen yourself puff? you’re so undeniably gorgeous, i don’t know how i hold myself back from you everyday” he leaned in closer to you making this all seem more real. without thinking you allowed yourself to lean into him, faces and lips meeting for the most magical first kiss you could’ve ever imagined.
“you’re so fucking beautiful y/n” he grabbed your face pulling you closer to him till you straddled over his lap sitting down continuing the now makeout. “this is so much better than.. imagined” you huffed through the kisses. you could already feel mattheos member growing beneath you and you never thought you’d be the one experiencing this from your best friend.
you’d be lying if you didn’t admit to a fantasy or two about him in the past but this was already one thousand times better than ever imagined. mattheos lips kissed their way down your neck leaving small marks tiny moans leaving your mouth, “i need to hear more of that, y/n, let me eat you out.. please i need a taste” he continued his kisses along your neck bringing them back to your lips “i’ve never- mm yes” you replied as his fingers began making circles over your underwear.
“you sound so good fuck” he groaned pulling you off of him and getting off the bed, “you’re sure of this?” he questioned one last time and you just nodded impatiently awaiting his next move. next thing you knew he was yanking you to the edge of his bed and slowly removing your pants and underwear looking up at you from below. “holy fuck puff.. you’re fucking soaking” he breathed out over your pussy sending tingles down your spine.
without warning his mouth met your untouched area and you felt things never imaginable. his tongue made its way around your bulging clit, flicking it up and down and making his way to your entrance sucking and licking “you taste so good holy fuck” he huffed going right back in not even looking up at you, “can i put two fingers” he spoke from your pussy and you couldn’t even properly answer “mm y-yes” you replied between your moans.
you felt his slender fingers teasing your entrance and he slowly began inching one in and out teasingly, “mattheo-“ you huffed and he chuckled shoving both fingers in, loud moan escaping your mouth and this new feeling. he did a few different moments trying to figure out what makes you moan the most, soon his tongue was sucking expertly on your clit as his fingers twisters and curled inside of you.
“matt i want to.. try” you moaned at this pleasure wanting nothing more than to feel him inside of you now. “mm but you’re not ready yet puff” he continued devouring your pussy simply divulging in it as if he’d never eaten anything before. his pace on everything quickened and you were already near your own orgasm, “if you don’t s-stop i’m gonna cum” you moaned loudly trying to control yourself.
“let go for me sweetheart” he sucked harder on your clit, the nickname and action forcing your orgasm to flood over you harder than you’ve ever been able to make yourself experience. your body was shaking and you couldn’t hold your reactions back, mattheo slowly licked your gushing area clean before standing up “mm now i think you’ll be ready soon” he smirked leaning down over you, grabbing your chin and giving you a kiss.
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I Hope You're Doing Well - LN4
Note: I literally pulled this out my ass, but it just flowed!
Word Count: 2.2k (yes that is a lot for me) Warnings: Idk a lot of kissing at the end, little angst
“Hi Lando, it’s Y/N, I hope you’re doing well, I figure you are considering you just won the constructors championship, call me when you want to catch up, I miss you, okay bye,” you hung up the phone. You turned to face your parents along with Lando’s,
“Sorry kid,” your dad said rubbing your shoulder. The four sat you down in the middle of the F1 season telling you their concerns for their son, complaining of being homesick and lonely, which was not Lando at all. You had known each other as long as you could remember. Your parents all went to university together and forced you and Lando into a friendship like parents do with kids. It was awkward at first, but you were very social as a child, and hanging out with a boy a year older than you was cool to you, and if it made your parents happy you would do it. Despite being a year older than you, you were always the same height as Lando growing up. You fit perfectly in his kart, but he never trusted you to drive it. He was always on about traveling in Formula 1 eventually, and he was fine his first couple years but this year was different.
“It’s alright, I wasn’t expecting an answer,” you gave the parents a half smile. You and Lando had lost touch after the first race of the year, after spending all of the winter together something shifted, but you didn’t know what you did to make him ignore you. You called him at the first sign of concern from his parents, but no answer, his parents even urged him to call you but they were rarely hearing from him as it was. Little did they know he would sit listening to the messages you left all the time thinking about home and being with you.
Last winter your parents threw a big party, all their friends were there and of course Lando. There was no one else really your age there so you two find yourselves alone in your childhood bedroom sitting and talking.
“I’m confident this year, we will perform better I know it,” he nodded.
“Well of course you will, and you are going to get that win, I just know it,” you smiled.
“Yeah I hope, thanks for the belief,” he said.
“What are friends for,” that word friends hit Lando hard. He thought he had made so obvious these past few years about how he felt about you, but he was only a friend to you. The rest of that winter he was not his usual self leaving you questioning, he barely even said goodbye before he left for testing. You sat alone in your apartment finding yourself wanting to pick up the phone and ask him what you did wrong but you accepted he needed space. You soon felt something was missing as he didn’t call you after every race like he did last year, you missed seeing his smile, which you always thought was cute. Now without his constant presence, you discovered your true feelings for Lando. You sent him messages getting responses two days later, he wouldn’t take any of your calls due to being busy, but it was the time you would normally call last year, and you knew what was different. You began to leave messages when his parents went to see him. Each message started and ended the same way.
“Hi Lando, it’s Y/N, I hope you’re doing well,” and ended with “I miss you,” or something along those lines. After his first win, you called,
“Hi Lan, it’s me, I hope you’re doing well, and celebrating this win, I’m so proud of you, I wish I could have been there, I miss you.” Your calls continued after each win he earned this year, each podium, each race he scored points, even in his worst races you still left messages, none being answered or getting a callback, making you long for him more. The season came to a close and there you were surrounded by the people near and dear to him leaving the same message again.
This winter he had not come back to visit his family yet, meaning you didn’t have that chance to see him in your time off from work. There you sat around the most important people in your life, as one was missing, holding back tears. His mother rushed out of the room picking up her phone and scolding her son in a message. You went to bed that night looking through the scrapbooks your Moms made of the two of you when you were younger, pictures of you hugging, your arms wrapped around each other's shoulders, pictures of you forcing a smile onto his face and him doing the same to you, so many memories. The books continued as the years went on, you at age 15 with a sign at one of his races and him hugging you after, your high school graduation, your college graduation, he was always there. Now this winter here you were alone a year from that night wishing he would come home.
You woke up the next morning with a voice message lighting up your phone. You were stunned to see the contact picture, you and Lando as little kids. You put in your headphones and hesitated before pressing play on the message.
“Hi Y/N, it’s Lando, I hope you’re doing well, I am doing well, thank you for all your congratulations, I’m sorry I’ve ignored you this season, I will tell you more when I get home tomorrow, I miss you too, see you probably a few hours after you listen to this,” his voice was sincere and you could hear little cracks knowing he was upset. You could feel your heart racing, your mind was spiraling, what could he possibly have to say to me? This is going to be so awkward. What do I even say to him? Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock on your door. You quickly fixed your hair before pulling the blanket up over your pajamas hiding any possible embarrassment.
“Hey, sweetheart,” you heard your mom’s voice outside, “can I come in?”
“Yes, come in,” you put the blanket down, “what is it?” Your Mom looked unusually happy for it being eight in the morning, she must have already had her coffee.
“Lando’s flight arrives in an hour, and we are all going to surprise him at the airport, I know you’re upset with him, but please maybe it will change things,” her eyes were pleading, and after the message, you knew it would be the right thing to do. You hopped out of bed grabbing your morning coffee before changing. You conveniently lived close to the airport so an hour was plenty of time. As you stood with your two families in the terminal waiting you began to think again, you had seen him on social media, which was easier to bury your feelings, but in real life, you didn’t know what you would do.
You watched the hallway, seeing several people go by, none were the faces you wanted to see. It had been a few more minutes since you were distracted by your phone, but you chose to look up at the perfect moment.
“Here he comes,” his mom exclaimed. You shoved your phone in your bag immediately, putting on a smile. He dropped his bag greeting first his parents, then your parents, and froze when he got to you. It was like time stopped, and no one else in the airport existed. He stretched out his arms as you rushed into them. He pulled you so close, you felt your feet lift off the ground.
“Oh Y/N, I’m so sorry, I’ve missed you so much,” he began to cry into you.
“Lando, Lando,” you sobbed feeling his warmth. The two of you pulled yourselves together as you made your way out to your cars.
“Why don’t you two ride together, you have some catching up to do,” his mom winked in your direction. The two of you did as you were told riding in the “kids' car” back to his parents’ home. You got home before them leaving you two some time after your silent car ride, both of you trying to keep it together. Once you got to their house, you made your way upstairs to his room. You watched him unpack his things before you noticed the stack of books next to the bed, the same ones you had looked at the night before. Something in your gut told you to open one, and it was right, it struck his attention.
“Wow look at us,” he said joining you sitting on his bed.
“I know, we were so cute,” you laughed pointing at a picture of you two at Lando’s 9th birthday, you were blowing out his candle with him.
“Still are,” he said softly, the look in his eyes showed he wanted to continue. You closed the book and took a good look at him, you saw pain in his body language, emotional pain. He was different than the Lando you saw the previous year.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” you said resting your hand on his shoulder, “what did I do,” you thought back to last year knowing exactly what hurt him.
“Y/N, hand me the book,” he pointed to the one from your high school years. You handed him the book and he began to frantically flip through it, finding one specific picture. You stared at it, then at him with a faint smile on your lips.
“The dance,” you nodded looking ashamed.
“That’s when it started Y/N, and ever since then I have loved you, I thought I made it obvious, but you only saw me as a friend, I couldn’t take it anymore, I was hurt, and didn’t want to waste my time,” his eyes stayed locked on the book.
“Lan, I feel the same, it took me not having you present constantly to finally realize I have loved you,” you smiled. His eyes picked up from the book,
“All those messages were cries for you to call me so we could have this conversation, I started to think you moved on after the constant lack of response,” you sighed.
“I should have answered all those calls, I should have called back, I should have said something-” you cut him off pressing a kiss to his lips. His hands quickly found your face as yours found his hair, running your fingers through his curls. You both gasped for air after that, your foreheads resting against each other’s. Your hands moved slowly from his hair to his hands which remained on your face. He let go interlocking his fingers with yours as your hands moved to your lap.
“This, this is how it was meant to be,” he smiled, before kissing you once more.
“So should we tell our parents, who definitely have their suspicions already,” you laughed.
“Not yet,” he said laying down in his bed and pulling you along with him. You two lay there your head on his chest with your hands locked over your heart. You were at full joy in the moment, a moment that you didn’t know you needed until now. You flipped over laying on top of him.
“So despite my horrible dancing that night, that’s when you knew,” you laughed running your fingers through his hair again.
“I wasn’t much better,” he laughed, “despite your clumsiness, you still were beautiful,” he said grinning. You pressed another kiss to his lips as his arms found your back pulling you in tighter. You two continued, intensifying the kiss as you both lay now on your sides. His lips moved from your face, down to your jaw and eventually reached your neck, letting you sigh.
“Kids dinner!” your mom called from outside the door. Lando continued moving back up to your lips.
“Lan,” you repeated whispering, pushing him away, “come on,” you smiled.
“Just a few more,” he begged.
“Later,” your eyes showed promise. You fixed your hair in his full-length mirror where he stood behind you wrapping his arms around your shoulders.
“Come on,” you laughed opening the door. You two walked hand in hand downstairs meeting your families in the kitchen. They all turned to face the two of you standing there with intertwined fingers, both with red cheeks. The Dads gave nods of approval to Lando and the Moms squealed gesturing for you to both sit.
“Finally,” his mom clapped as you sat at the table.
“Come on give us a little kiss,” your mom added on. The Dads rolled their eyes but still watched. Lando pulled you in by your neck pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You heard your Dad’s whistle, you shot him a glare after the kiss ended. It was just like old times in the winter when you would have dinners, the conversation flowed naturally as you felt Lando’s smile beaming on his face. This was secretly what you always desired.
#f1#formula 1#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#lando norris x reader#lando norris#lando norizz#lando norris fluff#ln4#ln4 fluff#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#ln4 x reader#ln4 mcl#mclaren#mclaren formula 1#mclaren f1#mclaren racing
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More Lucanis rambles because I’m still thinking about it and got nothing better to do :P
I am not here to tell anyone how to feel but putting words into peoples mouths who criticize the Lucanis romance (or Lucanis in general) for being unsatisfactory by saying;
“You don’t know what a slow burn is/ it’s because you expected zevran / you don’t get it he’s traumatized/ you just wanted something spicy and didn’t get it so now you’re mad” etc.
Is completely disregarding the fact that his lack of reactions and lack of content actually led people to believe he is bugged. Most DA fans didn’t expect spice or steam or whatever but they did expect an effective story, one they didn’t get.
This is at the end of the day a visual storytelling medium and implication will only get you so far, if i have to start thinking up entire plotlines in my head to make sense of the story or relationship progression then they failed at good storytelling. If i have to write paragraphs of explanations that the game doesn’t even remotely touch on then that isn’t a slow burn, it’s just a lack of content and poor pacing.
If he is traumatized and reluctant because of it you have to give me a scene where i can actually read that. If he is awkward and doesn’t know how to react to flirting you have to exaggerate to an extent for people to tell. If there is longing and angst give me banter that reflects it.
A romance in a game should give me some kind of deeper personal insight into a character and if i have to do the writers job and in my head think up those insights then the actual romance is mostly moot. I’m not saying give me all the details i’m saying at the very least give me a jumping point, some info buried in the game i won’t get otherwise. His romance fails at this.
Mary Kirby was fired yes and it’s awful what happened but unfortunately the product still remains and it leaves a lot to be desired for a big amount of people. When players are straight up going back on saves to romance someone else it’s a real problem. For me, it soured my first playthrough, especially later when i saw how Davrin and Emmrich had content, convos, specific romance outings and at the bare minimum actually had a noticeable reaction to flirting dialogue.
Again I’m not telling anyone how to feel, if it works for you that’s awesome, but to disregard his obvious lack of content by calling other fans basically stupid is incredibly disingenuous.
I love his character, loved it since The Wigmakers Job and he is still my favorite after my first playthrough. I think the beginning of his romance was very promising and the end is great but everything else is missing I’m sorry. His romance was not well executed and i honestly don’t think his character really was either. (But i won’t vent about that right now)
I know what a slow burn is, i was not expecting Zevran, i did not want a steamy romance. I wanted a well executed story and i didn’t get one. I am critical because i think it could’ve been great, i still love the game and i am not shitting on it, his character or other fans i just hate wasted potential.
#I STILL REALLY LIKE THE GAME#i promise i am not hating just to hate#datv spoilers#dragon age the veilguard spoilers#datv critical#dragon age#lucanis dellamorte#lucanis dragon age#lucanis#lucanis romance#rookanis#wolfs lucanis tag#wolfs DA rambles
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The Drivers - Part 1
Series Title : Younger Sister (TBC)
Summary: Being Lando Norris' sister made it surprising that it was one of your only visits to the paddock. Ollie made sure to introduce you to all the drivers and show you about.
Pairing/s: Oliver Bearman x Norris!Reader, Lando Norris x Sister!reader , Grid x Norris!Reader
Word Count : 1.2k
Masterlist
Series Masterlist
Oliver Bearman Masterlist
Lando Norris Masterlist
It wasn’t exactly hard being Lando’s sister, especially when you hardly went to races. Silverstone just never matched up with when you could take holidays from your part time job and the break from school but now you were close to finishing high school and had left your part time job to travel with Lando -with him paying for literally everything because what else should brother’s do?-
The last couple of days of school and you finally decided it was time for you to change your phone wallpaper back to your favourite picture of yourself and Lando. When Lando got moved into F1, you changed your phone wallpaper back to a less obvious picture of yourself and Lando, so you didn’t get people wanting to be your friend just because of Lando.
Now you were at the first race you had been to in a long while -Silverstone- sat in the Mclaren garage just wanting to annoy Lando as a little sister should do but he was interviewing and you didn’t want to be in front of the camera. That’s when you saw Max walk past the garage alone. Max was basically a brother he’d been about since as long as you could remember.
“Max” you called before jumping on his back
“Missing LN, are we?” He asked, and you nodded
“Lan left me in the garage alone” you pouted, and he chuckled
“What are you going to do when you’re the only one with him?” He asked, starting to walk again.
“Where are you going?” You asked him, resting your head on his shoulder
“Going to find your brother to return his property” He joked, and you slapped his arm. Max laughed as he walked to the media pen, stopping next to Lando and dropping you onto the floor
“Your property, I believe” Max tapped your head before walking away
“Lan I’m bored” You whine, and his PR manager laughed
“You didn’t bring anything to keep her entertained?” His PR manager asked
“I thought she’d find some random F2 driver’s girlfriend to talk to, but obviously not” I pouted, shoving him away
“I don’t know if they’re just random people or girlfriends and family” You shrugged, and he nodded
“Fair point, I guess. Come on I’ll introduce you to Ollie he’s over there” You nodded, following behind him as he walked away, gripping onto his wrist
“Y/N no one’s gonna kidnap you” He laughed, and you gripped his wrist tighter
“But it’s so busy, and I don’t know where I’m going” You whine as he comes to a sudden stop, causing you to bump into his back.
“Ollie” the older sibling smiled at the younger boy, who was just happily sipping on his drink
“Oh hey Lando. Y/N” He smiled, looking up
“Hey” You smiled back at him
“You already know Ollie?” Lando questioned, and you nodded
“I’ve not been avoiding Formula racing all together or living under a rock” You shrugged
“And he knows you?” Lando looked between the two of you.
“Ollie follows me on instagram. I became quite the popular girl at school” You giggle thinking back to prom when you were being questioned on how you were now followed by not only Lando but Oliver Bearman. What Lando didn’t need to know is that you two were secretly texting and had plans to go for ice cream after his sprint race while Lando was doing whatever practice.
“Okay well bye. I’ll see you in an hour” Lando walked away, and that’s when it became awkward
“You’ve definitely not been to a race in a while” Ollie chuckled, taking your smaller hand in his larger hand and moving you out of the media pen.
“They’re scary. There’s always so many people here, and I never know who I’m allowed to be talking to” you pouted
“Come on I’ll introduce you to the drivers, some of them anyway” Ollie led you back into the paddock and in between all the different motorhomes starting with Ferrari as he was meant to be in there anyway.
“We’ll start with Ferrari because at least if you get lost, you can’t miss the bright red” He grinned, leading you inside and over to a couple of people talking. Charles and Carlos. You obviously knew who the drivers were. They just didn’t know who you were.
“Done with your interviews?” Charles asked, and Ollie nodded
“Yeah, I finished those. Now I’m showing Y/N about the place” He smiled as both the Ferrari drivers looked at you.
“Girlfriend?” Carlos asked, and Ollie shook his head as you laughed
“Lando’s sister. I don’t know how I ended up with her” Ollie replied, and you looked up at him slightly offended
“Lando’s sister?” Charles repeated, and you nodded
“Lando has another sister?” Carlos asked.
“We didn’t meet while you were teammates. I was still quite busy with school. It’s been my first race for a while. I don’t know many people here” you replied as he nodded slowly
“You look like Lando, to be honest” Charles tilted his head
“It’s the curls” You shrugged as Ollie took your hand again
“Next garage” He cheered, pulling you out. You gave a polite wave to the Ferrari drivers as Ollie pulled you to the Red Bull garage. You knew Max. When you stayed with Lando during holidays or lockdown, he would stream with Max.
“Hey Y/N” Max smiled, wrapping you in a hug
“Finally! A familiar face” You hummed hugging him back
“What happened to me introducing you to everyone?” Ollie asked, and you smiled, turning to look at him as you pulled back from the hug
“Max and Lando are like best friends. Lando has a thing about people called Max” You joked as Max Fewtrell walked up behind you
“What about us Max’s?” He asked, causing you to jump and let out a scream
“Bog off Max” you replied
“Ohh not the Tracy Beaker line” He joked, and you rolled your eyes. Both Lando and Max still had a thing about you swearing, not like you were legally an adult, so you resorted to saying ‘Bog off’
“Are you lost? Do I need to carry you back to Lando”? He asked, and you shook your head
“Ollie is showing me about and introducing me to different people” You smiled, and he nodded, ruffling your hair
“Well P is lost, so I’m gonna go find her. Be safe” Max walked off as Checo joined
“Ah Checo this is Lando’s youngest sister Y/N” The Dutch man introduced you, and you smiled at Checo
“Nice to meet you” you hummed, looking at Ollie for help. Checo and Lando weren’t exactly the best of friends.
Ollie continued to introduce you to different drivers until it was time for him to return you to Lando - that was Lando’s words - so now you were following Ollie back to the Mclaren garage. He stopped outside, and you smiled at him
“Thank you for showing me about” You thanked him, and he nodded
“Are we still up for ice cream tomorrow?” He asked, and you nodded
“We are. But you’re coming to me. I still don’t know where I’m going” you replied
“Then I’ll meet you outside here?” You smiled with a nod as Lando walked out the garage
“Home time” He cheered, and you laughed, waving bye to Ollie as Lando walked you out of the paddock as he talked to Oscar.
Next Part
Tag List
@bearryyy
@molten-m122
@thewannabewriter
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@sbrn0905
#f1 smau#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#oliver bearman#oliver bearman x reader#ob38 x reader#ob38#ollie bearman#ollie bearman x reader#ollie bearman x you#lando norris x reader#lando norris#lando norris x sister!reader#charles leclerc x reader#max verstappen x reader#max fewtrell x reader#carlos sainz x reader#ln4 x reader#ln4 x sister!reader
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𝟷𝚔 || 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊
♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You go through a whirlwind of emotions when drunk.
♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: drunk!reader, Reader annoying Sirius
♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: James Potter x drunk!Reader
You were slumped between James and Sirius, giggling uncontrollably, your legs swinging off the armrest of the couch as you hiccuped. The room was warm, and everything felt so funny. Especially Sirius's hair.
"You know what, Pads?" you slurred, poking Sirius in the cheek. "You look like a... a giant poodle. But a mean one. Like, the poodles at the dog shows that bite people."
Sirius's jaw dropped. “A poodle? You—no, absolutely not. I am—what did you say I was, James?”
James was trying not to laugh. "Uh, majestic, I think."
"Majestic!" Sirius pointed at you dramatically, like that would prove his point.
You snorted so hard you almost fell off the couch, but James caught you, his arm wrapping around your waist and steadying you. "Sure, sure, 'Padfoot the Majestic Poodle.'"
"It's mostly because of your hair—" you giggled, reaching out to pat the top of his head, missing entirely and booping his nose instead. "It's so fluffy, like a big, angry puppy!"
Sirius frowned, swatting your hand away dramatically. "I am not a dog, and my hair is majestic, thank you very much."
"Fluffy," you repeated, poking him in the cheek now. "Sirius, fluffy like a… like a poodle!"
James tried to hold back a laugh as Sirius looked properly offended, folding his arms with a huff. "Are you serious?"
You snorted at his pun. "No, you’re Sirius!"
Remus groaned from beside Peter. "Oh no. Not this again."
Peter shook his head, barely holding back his own giggles. "Here we go…"
“Are you lot serious right now?” Sirius grumbled, crossing his arms. “A poodle. Really.”
“Sirius is serious,” you added, and then cracked up at your own joke. “Sirius is Sirius—wait, Remus, did you hear that? It’s his name.”
Remus rolled his eyes, but there was a smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, we got it.”
“But I’m not a poodle,” Sirius muttered, still offended, while you continued to giggle.
James still eyed the bottle of firewhiskey in your hand like he wanted to take it away. Not that you noticed. Nope. You were too busy trying to poke Sirius in the cheek.
“You’ve got—got something there,” you slurred, leaning in far too close to Sirius’s face.
“What? Where?” Sirius asked, looking genuinely concerned as he wiped at his cheek. “Did I get dirt on me?”
“Yeah, it’s called your face,” you giggled, falling back onto James and laughing like it was the funniest thing you’d ever said.
Sirius gasped dramatically, hand over his heart. “How dare you! James, do you hear this? Your girlfriend is cruel.”
You waved him off, turning your attention back to James, who was trying not to smile. “He’s just mad ‘cause he’s not as pretty as you,” you said, squinting up at James like you were stating the most obvious fact in the world. You reached out and patted his face, a little too hard. “So. Pretty.”
James chuckled, grabbing your hand before you could slap him again. “Alright, love, I think you’ve had enough for one night.”
“Noooooo,” you whined, stretching out the word. “M’fine, Jamie. Look! I can sit up perfectly straight.” You immediately leaned to the side, almost toppling over onto Peter, who yelped and quickly scooted out of the way.
“Maybe… maybe a little too much,” Remus said from beside Peter, watching with raised eyebrows.
“Remus!” you called, throwing your arms out toward him. “You’re so boring, you know that?”
“Hey, I like boring,” Peter mumbled from his chair, crossing his arms.
“Yeah, Wormtail likes boring!” you repeated, pointing to Peter like he was your greatest proof.
You sat up suddenly, looking around the room, eyes wide and dramatic. “Wait. Wait. You guys can’t ever leave me, okay? Promise.”
The Marauders exchanged confused looks. “Uh—okay?” Peter said hesitantly.
“I’m serious—not like Sirius serious—" you hiccuped, "But you guys can’t leave. We have to stay friends forever or I’ll—I’ll hex all of you!” You threw your hands up, trying to look menacing, but it came off more like a flailing octopus.
James quickly wrapped his arms around you as you dramatically collapsed into his chest. “Love, we’re not going anywhere.”
“Speak for yourself,” Sirius muttered, though he was still looking somewhat offended by your earlier insult. “I don’t think I can handle another ‘your face is the problem’ comment.”
But you weren’t having it. You pointed a shaky finger at them, wobbling slightly. “You better not, Sirius Black! Or I’ll—” You narrowed your eyes dramatically, trying to look intimidating. “I’ll hex you into next week! I know spells, you know!”
James bit his lip, trying not to laugh as Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? What spells?”
“Spells!” you repeated, waving your hands in the air as if that was a valid explanation. “Dangerous ones!”
Peter snorted. “I’m terrified.”
Sirius held up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright! Merlin, you’re scary when you’re drunk.”
“Good,” you said, immediately softening. “Because I love you guys, even though Sirius is a poodle, and Remus won’t laugh at my jokes, and Peter—well, Pete, you’re just so cute, aren’t you?”
“Thanks,” Peter mumbled.
Tears welled up in your eyes, and you reached out, pulling all of them into a big, awkward group hug. “I just love you guys, okay? Don’t leave me… ever.”
James chuckled, his hand warm on your back. "Alright, let's get you to bed, yeah?"
“I don’t wanna go to bed,” you pouted, leaning into James like a rag doll. “I wanna stay here and annoy Sirius more.”
“I’m not listening to this nonsense,” Sirius huffed, throwing his hands up.
“Oh, but Sirius—don’t you wanna cuddle like a big, fluffy dog?” you teased, blinking innocently.
He narrowed his eyes. “You’re going to regret this in the morning.”
James stood up, pulling you gently with him. “C’mon, love, you’re barely standing.”
“Wait, no, no, no—you're all amazing, even you, Remus, boring and all.” You paused, eyes widening as if you had just realized something horrible. “Wait—don’t ever leave me, guys.”
Your lower lip started to wobble.
“Don’t leave me! You can’t! What if you just disappeared? Poof! Gone! And I’m all alone. I’ll die. I’ll actually die.”
James squeezed your hand, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “I think you’re driving everyone mad, love.”
You looked up at him, beaming. “But not you, right, Jamie?” you gushed, running your fingers through his messy hair, making it even worse. “You’re perfect, James Potter. Like… a Quidditch god! And your glasses are so… shiny.”
Sirius fake gagged. “Ugh, I’m gonna be sick.”
“Shush, poodle!” you shot back at him, your words blending together into a cute mess of slurs. “You’re just jealous ‘cause James is my shiny glasses boy.”
Remus rolled his eyes, but there was a fond smile tugging at his lips. Peter was full-on laughing now, while James was just gazing at you, completely smitten.
You huffed but allowed him to help you stand. “You’re the best, James,” you said, leaning heavily on him as he started to guide you toward the stairs.
“You’re pretty great yourself,” James chuckled, tightening his grip on your waist so you wouldn’t stumble.
Just before you reached the dormitory, you stopped, looking up at him with bleary eyes. “No, really, Jamie. You’re the best. Don’t ever change.”
James grinned down at you, his heart melting a little. “I won’t, love. Now let’s get you to bed before you start threatening to hex me too.”
You smiled sleepily, letting your head rest on his shoulder. “I’d never hex you. You’re too pretty.”
And with that, you were out, leaving James with a fond smile and the rest of the Marauders shaking their heads behind him.
Downstairs, Sirius was still sulking. “A poodle… unbelievable.”
i love drunk!reader so much!!
#james potter fluff#james fleamont potter#james potter x reader#james potter#sirius black fluff#sirius black x reader#sirius black#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin#peter pettigrew fluff#peter pettigrew x reader#peter pettigrew#poly!marauders fluff#ivy's soft scribbles ೀ
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What being their crush is like
Pairing(s): Characters x Gn!Ninja!Reader (teammate)
Character(s): Naruto Uzumaki, Sakura Haruno, Sasuke Uchiha
Naruto Uzumaki
An absolute fool for you
The only ways you could’ve caught this morons affections is by either being attractive or being kind to him back when you both first started out at the academy
Either way he’s absolutely smitten and so when he hears your name called out after his in class- he’s ecstatic that you’ll be on the same team
If you have a crush on someone else he’d be pretty bummed out but it won’t deter him
(He was especially motivated by sasuke and Sakura- it was just to get him away from them)
He’ll try to buy you ramen, flowers, honestly just anything to show you that he’s the most suitable suitor
Which couldn’t be further from the the truth (in the eyes of everyone else)
He’d be so open about liking you
Well, when he’s not around you
He’ll always talk about you and how wonderful you are- it’s so painfully obvious to any outsider looking in
And when someone brings up his more than obvious crush on you he’d flush and act as if they had gone mental
Like what
Also bonus points to you if you constantly back him up when he’s being teased and support his dream to be hokage
Literally +1000 points
Well a certain period of time passes and throughout said period he’s constantly flirting with you
How? Well he’s always complimenting your fighting/ jutsu and trying to ask you out on a date
If you are even slightly hesitant to respond
Like by a milisecond- then he’d rub the back of his head and laugh it off
Going on about how he was just joking and I don’t know what
Then one day you end up accepting
Which is funny because of the fact that he left a very traditional love note hidden somewhere he knew you’d fine
[insert you going home and finding it]
Literally not surprising to anyone and most people would assume that Naruto would confess boldly
But I disagree- he’d be pretty shy and uncertain despite his tendency to be reckless
If you accept or not will be up to you but the next time you see him he’s all awkward and stuff but still manages to try and play it off
It’s up to you to break the ice
Sakura Haruno
Again, Sakura likely started liking you because of your attractiveness
It was just a surface level crush until she saw that you had an actual good character
She’s so beyond happy that you’ll be on the same team, I’m not even exaggerating
You’re all in the same class and so as classmates you’re all bound to have crushes on the same people
That’s to say- a good amount of people also had a crush on you and the moment your name was announced alongside hers-
She just mentally imagined flipping them all and shoving it in their faces
Miss girl is honestly so sweet, she’s always trying to spend time with you and if you have any trouble with anything
E.g. ninjutsu, fighting, etc. she’ll always be there to help
Maybe a little too willing at times
Now, we all know that Ino and Sakura have had this rivalry and often banter
Well, all of a sudden (if Ino isn’t fighting over you) she’s probably making fun of you and being very loud about her opinion on you
It’s either that she thinks you and Sakura are a perfect match (negative) or that you’re terrible and not the best option (also negative)
Either way you’re catching strays
Sakura obviously gets riled up over this and tries to defend you no matter where or when
Which leads to you being there for Sakuras Chunin exams and experiencing the whole match
It’s an event that leads to character growth- but when she goes back she doesn’t expect you to be there waiting for her
She’s honestly flattered you’d wait for her and is mentally smug about it
When she flirts with you it’s honestly super obvious too
I can’t even deny that
Like at times she’d defend you and act as though you’re always right and idk what else (which is her odd way of flirting because she sort of stares)
And then sometimes she just opens up about private stuff around you during the quiet moments
Plus she also gifts you little trinkets- like flowers or something casual and small
Either way- when she confesses it’s probably spontaneous asf
Like you’re walking around at night and she gets this urge to just spill her guts
And she does
She’s basically like why the hell not be like Naruto
She’s super flushed and awaits your response right then and there
If you like her back and know it- that’s that
But if you tell her you need to time to figure it out then she’ll accept
Just know she’s lying awake at night wondering regretting it
Sasuke Uchiha
He acts super neutral towards you
Which wouldn’t be an obvious pointer that you’re his crush towards the average person but cmon
He’s sasuke
So ofc it’s obvious he has a crush on you
Honestly the only way I’d see him having a crush on you would be if you were close to him pre massacre and have been by his side since forever
(Unless you’re willing to wait the long game *cough*cough* slow burn)
He’d be pretty dependent on you while also being super independent
It’s honestly confusing sometimes
When it comes to the whole you being apart of his team, he doesn’t feel a particular way about it
(Or so he tells himself)
He’d try so hard to be nonchalant around you
Like not even joking
But if someone insults you or does something slightly disrespectful- he’s giving them the death glare
And then excuses it with just being annoyed by (more often than not) Naruto
Since he usually pokes fun at ppl and stuff
(If you didn’t know him before the academy and even if you did) He’d probably admire your skills and how smart you are
Like he’d watch you from afar and is honestly jealous and simultaneously sees you as a rival
Again, super confusing.
The most affection you’d get from him at this stage is his (once in a lifetime) compliment about your fighting or something
Then he’d walk away
You’re left standing there super confused while he walks away with a light blush dusting his cheeks
He ain’t fooling nobody
He obviously feels super weird about having a crush on you because of his whole mission on finding his brother and -
Yea.
So even though he does like you more than he’d want to admit- he would never confess
Not likely
Which is what you thought
Until you find out that Sasuke left the village and there’s no point in trying to go after him or anything at all really
It’s a betrayal to you and everyone else
It’s dark by the time you get home and enter your room
You pick up this thing Sasuke had given you- his excuse? It wasn’t worth his time and so he had given it to you
You didn’t care much for his excuse and just kept it on your dresser
Upon closer inspection you noticed a paper sticking out and obviously took it out
It was a letter- one could argue it was sasuke confessing
He went on about how he liked was ok being around you and the paper note wasn’t all that long
Just a few lines (if any)
There was a rip towards the bottom and you were left wondering what it would’ve said
Spoiler - it was Sasukes actual confession that he cowardly ripped off and threw into a body of water, hoping you’d never find it
-
A/n: got a tad carried away
#fanfic#gn reader#male reader#fluff#fanfic fluff#female reader#fluff headcanons#sakura haruno#sakura x reader#sakura x you#sasuke uchiha#sasuke x reader#sasuke naruto#naruto x reader#naruto series#naruto#naruto sakura#naruto x you#naruto headcanons#naruto fanfiction
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being the spoiled, ex prom queen, cheerleader, kook princess — who also happens to be rafe cameron’s toxic ex girlfriend.
you had to give credit where it was due. since you’d dumped rafe, he’d stepped his game up. you didn’t know how he did it, where he got all the money and the alleged gold, but you had to say, you were impressed. you knew he hoped you’d be watching his moves, knew it was most likely to impress you. turning up to one of his infamous tanny hill parties alone was a weak moment on your end, but you’d be damned if you were going to let him know that.
heads turn when you enter, not just because you were the infamous ex girlfriend, but because you looked good— and you wouldn’t have it any other way, stepping through the crowd confidently holding back a giggle at the sight of rafe boredly talking to a girl who looked like she’d taken a dip into your wardrobe. cute.
as soon as he sees you, he’s doing a double take — quickly pointing her in the direction of his friend and all but shooing her away, attempting to seem nonchalant all at the same time. you take your cue, walking over to him already holding an air of mischief, given away by the impish smile you wear.
“can i help you with something?” he drawls, but he can’t help the way the corner of his lips turn upward, or the way his eyes rake over your little outfit.
“mm, i don’t know. thought i’d swing by for old times sake, see what you were up to.” you sigh, eyes dragging down to his button up shirt, your hand reaching out to fiddle with a button. “this is cute.” you add on quietly.
“you think i don’t know that face? you want something so… out with it, please.” he blinks at you, going to remove your hand from him but he holds onto it.
“i can’t just say hi?” you bat your eyelashes with obvious faux innocence, tilting your head. “came here ‘cos i’m bored. play with me.” you step closer, not removing your doe eyes from him for a second as you invade his space. he sucks in a breath of self restraint, shifting on his feet.
“play with— that what you’re doin’ now? finally settin’ that pride aside for some dick, do i have that correct? you—you know i heard you were fucking on that maybank kid. so what… he not doin’ it for you? hm?” he stares down at you, eyes hanging low at the lust he was holding back.
“where’d you hear that? you keeping tabs on me rafey? that’s sweet.” you pur, smoothing his linen shirt down with your hands, manicured nails scratching him lightly through the fabric.
“people talk, alright?” he breaks his gaze, mainly to look around to see if any of his friends were watching him act like a total pussy whipped bitch over his ex.
“hmm. thought it was above you to listen to rumours. anyway, who said i want anything for myself? maybe i miss doing other things.” you defend, voice soft and velvety as a feather. to sell your point, your stand on your tiptoes, pulling him in closer to speak quietly into his ear. your glossed lips graze his jaw as you speak, leaving your pink mark on him. “c’mon daddy, just let me suck it a little. don’t you miss it?” you all but moan, and he licks his lips before his eyes flutter in irritated self control, nostrils flaring.
“you know it’s — it’s not fair to play with me like that. just… toying around with me when you’re bored. it’s sick, okay? you understand that?” he complains, pants tightening involuntarily.
you giggle, reaching behind him to the drinks table and plucking out a straw before dropping it into his drink and taking it out his hand, sucking the harsh liquid through the straw for a moment, “fine… you really want me to go… i’ll go.” you spin on your heel, taking one smug step before he winces at his own decisions, looking around and following you closely.
“shit, wait— okay?” he blurts and you freeze, slowly spinning back to him with a smile. he stares at you for a beat, lips parted in thought before he speaks. “are you… actually fucking jj maybank?”
you stare, thinking up a response before you look around. “does it matter? where’s your little girlfriend anyway?” there’s some victory for him, because he can hear the bitterness in your tone. he takes another step forward, lips pursed.
“shes not my girlfriend, a’ight? and — and yes it matters. okay? shit, seems like you’re keeping tabs on me. you know if you miss me you can just use your damn words.”
“miss you? my friend said she saw you sitting in your car alone blasting bryson tiller. you miss me.” you bite back a laugh and he closes the space between you until there was barely a gap between your bodies, the oldest cameron looming over you.
“gonna deny it, huh? saying… you don’t miss me?” he challenges and you widen your eyes up at him, switching the innocent act on once more.
“miss you? but you were so mean? how could i miss that? i do however, miss this.” your hand snakes down his stomach and cups his alarmingly hard bulge through his pants making him tense up, looking around before smacking your hand away.
“chill — yeah? we’re in public, i don’t know if you realised.”
“so let’s go somewhere more private.” you propose, staring him down. he knows if he does, it’ll only be you that gets what you want — but he can’t resist, pressing his lips together with a nod.
“fine, okay. shit… such a little brat, ‘know that?”
“mhm, you love it.” you grin, letting him lead you through the house to the bedroom upstairs.
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{overview} You put your omega instincts to good use. It’s time to face John
{warnings} fem reader, a/b/o dynamics, poly 141, slight gore, cursing, mentions of death, slight panic attacks, injuries
Chapter 27 <- Chapter 28 -> Chapter 29
You were thankful Johnny knew what to do. You were nothing but a thorn in the side. Your hands gripped onto the back of his T-shirt as he led you around. Anais happily agreed to watch Vernie, squeezing you tightly in assurance.
Your heart sank when he stopped in front of a helicopter.
“Mac, please tell me what's happening,” you pleaded, keeping your voice strong.
“Just need you to be a good omega for me and follow what I say,” he reasoned back. His hand hadn't left the waistband of your pants, and you were beginning to feel sick from the way he moved you around. “Up you go,” he urged, basically lifting you onto the helicopter with one arm.
You needed to get out of your funk. This is what gave omegas a bad name. The inability to respond quickly when in an unknown situation. You would just have to be strong. Interestingly enough your brain repeated Simon's words like a mantra.
“You’re just as brave and stupid as the rest of us.”
Hopefully, you could avoid the stupid. Yet the sentiment didn't go unnoticed. It was just another way Simon was affirming you were a part of the pack. Their pack. You were chosen for a reason.
You were a part of their pack. It was time you started to act like it.
You grabbed the straps yourself before Johnny could buckle you in, strapping yourself in as tight as you could. It caught him a bit off guard, his hands stalling for a moment, before taking his own seat as close to you as he could.
“It’s Kyle isn't it?” you pressed. You had to yell for him to hear you.
“It is,” Johnny affirmed. “He’ll be fine. Nothin’ a little you can't fix,” Johnny soothed.
“You’re getting cocky, Gaz,” John spoke, making Kyle’s lips quirk up into a smirk.
“You find a reason for me not to be, sir?” He shot back. His dress shoes were quiet against the tile floor. If it wasn’t for his voice you wouldn’t even know he was there.
“Enough with the banter, boys,” Laswell sighed. “You two should be home already,” she adde. It caught them both off guard, their bodies tensing and stomach turning. Your face popped into their head. Kyle’s face scrunched as a pang shot through him. “Sorry,” Laswell added, feeling their mood shift. Ever since you, home has been a touchy subject. Sometimes home wasn’t always four walls.
“S’alright,” John spoke, clearing his throat. It had been especially hard for the alpha leaving after what had transpired. While he had made slight amends with you, it was hard to get back into your good graces halfway across the world. John shut his eyes tightly from his spot on the roof. He took a deep breath nearly able to smell the fresh peaches and warm vanilla. He could feel your hands gripping his shoulders and the way your skin molded perfectly against his. He could feel your cheek against his and the giggle that brushed across his ear when his beard would tickle you. He growled low in his throat, his eyes fluttering open.
They needed to get home.
“Got eyes on them?” He spoke, his voice rumbling through the comms. Kyle didn’t say a word. They were close. “Lead them out the back alley if you can,” he kept his voice low.
As if on cue the backdoor opened, two tall men wearing black suits walked out, with two more behind them dressed in perfectly tailored blue suits. John rolled his eyes. Could they be anymore obvious? A woman turned down the alley making John curse. Would be hard to shoot four people with a witness.
“There’s a woman. See if you can steer her away,” John mumbled, eyeing them through the scope. Kyle entered the alley, dressed as a waiter, pointing for the woman to turn around.
“Sorry miss, but we have a delivery truck comin’ in. You’ll be trapped,” He explained, waving his hand.
“That’s alright,” She smiled. Kyle immediately felt his stomach drop his hands moving on instinct as her hand reached to her side. He dodged her, his hand able to get a good grip on the back of her sweater tossing her towards the men. The knife clattered from her hand against the ground. Kyle didn't bother to go for it, the gun tucked into his coat getting the job done quicker. Kyle took out three of them, John taking out the other two.
“Good work,” John praised. Kyle exhaled, ready to begin his trek down the alley before something caught his eye. It was the woman, lying face down against the street.
Her hair matched yours.
She had a similar build. You even had a sweater that same color. It made his stomach turn, his mind easily replacing her with you.
“Kyle?” It was commanding and concerned. “You need to get out of there,” John pressed. Kyle’s body erupted in goosebumps, his feet finally catching up with his brain. He began to walk forward, the urge to look back one last time irrefutable.
“Can't just leave her here,” Kyle said finally. He opened his mouth to continue, but the sight had made him sick. He turned his head towards the trash can, bile rising up his throat. John opened his mouth ready to rip him a new one, yet his words got caught as well. It was like he had forgotten where he was, his brows furrowing at the idea of you being there.
Why were you in the street? He winced, the reasoning behind Kyle’s actions as clear as day.
“She’s at home safe,” John reasoned. He could see Kyle wipe his face with his sleeve and nod.
“I know,” he sighed. “I know.”
“Get out of there,” John repeated. Kyle agreed silently, heading back into the restaurant.
“Fuckin’ over this shit,” Kyle growled, pacing back and forth in front of the alpha. “Another bloody week?” he continued. The alpha’s hands reached out, gripping the back of Kyle’s shoulders.
“The timeline isn't definite,” John reminded, pulling the fired-up man against him. John felt heated against him- a true sign of how equally upset he was. “The more we keep our heads on the quicker we can get home.”
Sometimes home wasn't always four walls.
“Definite? Could be longer then,” Kyle snarled, rolling his shoulders out of John’s grasp.
“What do they expect anyway? They constantly push for every pack to have an omega and then don't make proper adjustments for it. What will we do when she's marked and she marks us? I won't be able to be away from her longer than a month and you’ll only be able to last around two weeks.” Kyle ranted. They had been gone two weeks- now they were expected to be gone for another whole week. It felt longer than that. Each day dragging on like an anchor in the sand.
“They make pills for things like that now,” John sighed, running a hand over his face. His beta was justified in his anger, but it would just be easier to push feelings aside and get the job done. “She’s not home alone either. Johnny’s keepin’ her safe,” he added.
John’s phone went off. He grumbled, digging in his pocket moving towards the door. He acknowledged something, hanging up in one motion. “Get your vest on. We are leaving,” He commanded.
Every minute felt like an hour, every hour felt like a lifetime. You had finally landed in a hospital just outside of Kavala. The helicopter ride hadn’t lasted long and you and Johnny had to hop onto a passenger airplane. It was early afternoon when you had arrived.
At least it was warm. Kyle would appreciate that.
“Garrick, Kyle,” Johnny spoke. The woman at the desk clacked against her computer.
“Not ready yet,” she replied bluntly. “He needs more time,” she explained.
“He’s my beta,” you growled before you could stop yourself.
“Marked him?” She questioned. Your face curled. You could be bonded without marking him.
“She did,” Johnny lied. The woman eyed you both before pushing her rolling chair against one of her coworkers. They whispered to each other looking between the two of you.
“Follow,” she commanded, getting up from her chair. You breathed out, your hand giving Johnny’s a squeeze. The hospital was nice. Not as sterile and cold as the one on base.
You were hot on her heels as she weaved her way through the halls, an evil sounding whine leaving you when she would stop and chat to a coworker. Some people just couldn’t read the room.
She stopped in front of a door and you gripped the handle without permission, nearly pushing her out of the way. You didn’t even notice John sitting in the hallway. You walked into the room, your hand gripping the curtain around the bed.
“Next one,” the nurse corrected harshly. You couldn’t blame her for her tone. He was in the bed closest to the window. A whimper left you as you pulled the curtain back.
“Kyky,” you mumbled, already clawing at your eyes. The blanket was pulled above his shoulders, the skin that was exposed wet and feverish. His face looked the same, besides a scrape against his jaw.
You got to work.
You could already tell his leg was in a cast. You pulled the blanket to his waist. His whole torso was covered in red spotted bandages, his arm in a sling against his chest. You pulled both the room and window curtain back, so he could feel the sun against his skin. That would make him feel better. You went over to a cabinet pulling out the smallest towel you could find, using the water fountain in the hallway to wet it. You still hadn’t noticed the distraught alpha in the hallway. Your distraught alpha. John watched you carefully, the ache in his chest crippling as you went about your business without so much as a glance. He pushed that away. All that mattered was that Kyle got the care he needed. John let himself sink against Johnny as they sat in the hallway. The Scot’s soft blue eyes understanding and assuring.
“I missed you two,” John said finally.
“We missed you,” Johnny affirmed. “She’s been havin’ a hard time sleepin’. Been hard on her, having both her alphas gone,” Johnny sighed.
“You’ve done a good job takin’ care of her,” John said, his throat tightening. “Is she still….” John trailed off. Johnny knew what he was referring to. The Scot pressed his lips against the alpha stiff shoulder.
“I think she still thinks about it. Especially with everyone being away it’s easy to let her mind wander. Being close to you- being reminded of how much you love her will shake any doubts she might have,” Johnny explained. John relaxed. That is exactly what he needed to hear. A lone tear fled from his eye and he rubbed it away with his thumb. One of the most common misconceptions about Johnny was that emotions flew over his head. Whilst the man was brash and impulsive, he felt everything so deeply and he always knew what to say in the aide of others.
You washed as much of Kyle as you could without disrupting him.
He knew you were there.
You could feel it. His muscles twitched, despite the medicine in his system, like something inside him was trying to claw its way out to get to you. You could hear the clatter of shoes against the floor, not paying much mind until then entered the room. It was a nurse, one that you could already tell knew what she was doing. She was an alpha. You could tell by her square shoulders and frown lines.
“You got here fast. That is good,” her accent was strong, but her pronunciation was perfect. She eyed the curtains that had been pulled back and the wet cloth on your hands. “You have strong instincts. That is good, knowing what your beta needs to get better,” she praised. “He has a fractured leg, an overstretched ligament in his shoulder, and multiple lacerations across his abdomen,” she explained.
“How long will he be asleep?” you questioned. While you had heard the information it was like your brain rejected it. You didn't want to hear what had happened, just how you could fix him. Asking how long he would be asleep felt manageable. Something you could prepare for.
“Whenever the anesthesia wears off,” She responded curtly. “For these types of injuries, we recommend keeping as close as possible to him. He needs to know you are here,” she spoke, brushing past you. She pushed down the rail of the side of the bed and pushed a button on the headboard. The bed expanded on the left side and you took a few steps back to allow it some room. “You can sleep here,” she patted the newly extended portion. “I suggest skin-on-skin contact. That may be a little hard due to injuries but it can be something as small as resting your hand here,” she pointed to his rising chest. “There are blankets in the cabinet. You might be tempted to get some softer blankets from the store around the corner, but it'll be best if you’re a little uncomfortable. Your discomfort will heighten his instincts and spur on the healing process,” she reminded, opening the cabinet you had just dug through. “I’ll be back when he wakes up,” she said, not bothering to look over her shoulder.
“Thank you!” you called after her. You sighed, heading for the papery thin sheet from the cabinet. You crawled onto the bed, using it to cover both you and Kyle. You pressed your cheek against his bare shoulder, inhaling deeply. Fresh linen, mixed with a slight salty breeze from his sweat. “I love you,” you mumbled against him. Your fingers brushed against his side and you resisted the urge to throw yourself against him and bury yourself as far into him as you could. You settled for wrapping around his good arm, resting it between your thighs just like he always slept.
It wasn't long before you drifted off to sleep.
John and Johnny entered shortly after, wanting to make sure you had enough time to get settled. John growled at the state of you. Your tired form shaking from nerves and low temperature. Your eyes rubbed raw, and your hair knotted and unkempt. Your cheeks heated from a slight fever. You always got fevers when you were upset. You've probably had one for weeks. He dug into the bag Johnny had brought with him, pulling out one of the blankets he had packed you.
“Ya heard what the nurse sai”-
“Kyle would murder us if he found out we let her suffer at his expense,” John cut him off. “Besides after what he's been through he’ll want to wake up to her being as comfortable as possible.” John tucked you in, making sure the blanket was rolled up to your neck and chin.
“Her jellyfish is next to her socks,” Johnny added. John dug into the bag again, tucking it under the covers with you.
“What happened?” Johnny worked up the nerve to press.
John sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. His knuckles brushed up and down your side, adjusting the blanket again.
“Car crash,” John sighed. “He was in a car that was headin’ towards a warehouse. It was intercepted,” He explained through gritted teeth. Johnny grumbled under his breath, adjusting in his seat.
“We know by who?” He pressed. John hummed in agreement.
“I was in the car behind ‘em. It's been handled,” He assured. Johnny stood, gripping the back of the alpha’s neck pulling him against him. John rested his head against Johnny’s stomach, his hand gripping his shirt. Johnny's hands ran up and down his back, digging his thumbs into the tense muscles.
“You’re exhausted. Need to sleep,” Johnny reasoned. He pulled away from him, setting up a small area on the floor for them to sleep. They've slept on worse.
You woke up slowly. The room was dark. Too dark. You whimpered quietly, causing shuffling in the corner.
“You alright?” John rasped. A purr echoed through your body before you could stop it, the sound pure instinct. “Sweet girl,” he groaned, more to himself than anything. A hand rested on the top of your head, dragging down your back, dipping under the familiar softness of your blanket. You tried to remind yourself you were still hurt by him, yet the addicting warmth of his hand against your skin had you melting into the bed. “Missed you, sweetheart,” he mumbled, leaning forward, his lips pressed against your hairline. “Both did,” he added, pressing you closer to Kyle. You whimpered out, your hands finding their way to his face, his beard tickling against your skin just like how you remembered. His chest rumbled with a sad sound, his face making a beeline straight to your neck, pressing his way between your shoulder and jaw. “I’m sorry I had to leave when I did,” he said softly. His teeth ached being so close to your neck. All he had to do was bite down and you would be his forever. Connected and bound together. He was tempted to do it while you were letting him be so close to you.
“John?” you whispered, your nails digging into his biceps. A shiver ran down his spine at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue. God, he missed you. He hummed in response, his cheek pressed against yours. “You don't wish I was someone else….do you?” you asked softly. His heart fell into his stomach, a familiar uneasiness falling over him. How could you even think that? “I just don't want you to wish you had picked someone different th”-
A sharp growl cuts you off, your body being pressed further into the mattress.
“Pull your head out of your arse, pretty,” he growled against your cheek. Your eyes widened and you tried to move your head to look at him. “Remember the first time we met? You walked in and the door blew your scent right in my face. Wanted to make you mine right there. One scent, one look, one word and I knew you were mine. Nothin’ll waver that,” his tone was passionate and slightly desperate, offering you no room for disagreement. He had never shown you he had wanted someone else or that he was unhappy with you in any way.
You just needed to hear it from him.
Sorry for the late update! Chapter 29 will be posted in three days! 🧡😊
#novemberheart#captain john price#kyle gaz garrick#gaz x reader#ghost x reader#poly141#price x reader#simon ghost riley#soap x reader#johnny soap mactavish#captain john price x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#johnny soap mactavish x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#a/b/o dynamics#a/b/o#fem reader#poly141 x fem reader#poly 141#poly141 x reader#as needed
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nowhere (m)
synopsis. breaking up with him is not possible- ever.
warning: yändèrè bèhâvïöür, töxïc rèlätïönshïp dynämïc, töxïc!bf!köö, nön-cön kïssïng, sêxïst bf, cräzy bêhävïöür, ünhëälthy rèlätïônshïp.
disclaimer: this fic contains really triggering dark themes which can be triggering for a lot of people and honestly if you have a significant other that’s like him in the fic then please I’m begging you to leave. This is not something you should have to endure. Please leave. Also reminder that this is completely fictional and this doesn’t represent jungkook at all. This is just a toxic character that’s not him.
How do you tell your, frankly, crazy boyfriend that you want to break up?
You don’t know why you got with him in the first place maybe it was because he was really charming and soft? Respectful and patient? So how did everything change?
Why did he change? It’s like being with him now it’s suffocating you. he’s really clingy and he doesn’t know how to take a no. He does what he wants and you cannot bring it in you to deny him.
Because then the guilt tripping starts.
You don’t understand how a grown man can like him can manage to cry within seconds. You’re tired, it’s been two years- he’s a changed man and you don’t like it at all.
And now you want to break up with him. But you’re not sure on how to go about it. He’s going to be home soon, so you’re feeling really anxious.
Jeon Jungkook is a really sensitive man when it comes to you and your relationship with him, he clearly loves you but his love feels really toxic now.
You love him too but you just can’t ignore the obvious cracks in your relationship- you have to leave before it’s too late. Just as you are pacing around your shared homes living room, you hear someone entering the home code and you’re not surprised because you know who it is.
Ask the door unlocked and he answers you stop pacing around the large room, and before you can even greet him or look at him with focus, he’s calling out your name.
“Yn!!!! my love I missed you so so much!!”
There is the man you’ve been waiting for, and you don’t feel excited to see him, but rather you feel a burden on your heart. Jungkook looks good, he’s always looked good. He’s really particular about his fashion and how he looks.
Something you used to like him but now it’s kind of annoying. Maybe it’s because of the fact that he always wants you to praise him.
You force yourself to smile as he walks closer to you, before dropping his car keys at the nearest table. You wait for him to come to you because that’s how it always is.
He loves it when you welcome him, Jungkook immediately wrapped his arms around your body, his favorite part of your body is definitely your waist. His hands are always resting on it. His grip is definitely possessive..
When he leans in closer to kiss you, you actually manage to dodge it, you can’t help it you don’t want to be with him anymore and what is the point in beating the bush around..? The fear will just keep on fucking with your mind at this point.
Jungkooks gaze changes from affectionate to anger and a small glare is sent your way. You sigh, looking at him.. “jungkook..” you don’t even call him kook or kookie like you used to, and he notices that because he’s tilting his head like he’s confused.
“Yn.. what is going on with you? Why would you refuse my kiss?” Before you can speak. He asks you a question instead, he likes his lips looking like he is genuinely confused and clueless.
He knows how to play dumb.
So before you reply to him, you try to get his hands off your waist, you are actually not sure if you’re going on the right track by doing this but it’s now or never.
“Listen to me.” You look straight into his eyes, but you fail to get his arms off of you. “Jungkook I want to break up.”
You blurt the words out, your heart is beating like crazy right now, because he’s so close to you and his reactions are always over-the-top and unpredictable.
Nothing is the same anymore and it hurts.
“I don’t think we are right for each other and it took me some time to realize that but I’ve given this a lot of thought and I think that this is the best thing for us.” You breathe out when he doesn’t respond. He’s just staring at you with a blank expression.
His eyes are suddenly empty, and his lips are pressed in a thin line, his hands are tightly wrapped around you, it’s like he froze.
“Ugh… I’m so sorry to do this so suddenly, but I cannot be with you anymore” you feel a little bad that you’re being so rude about this but you have to be really blunt because if you’re not, he’s gonna think that you’re just joking.
Because he doesn’t want to take things that he doesn’t like to hear, seriously.
You have to be blunt with him, because he’s always gonna find a reason to dodge your questions or completely avoid what you’re saying.
“can you let me go please? I have to go pack my stuff up… I didn’t do it because I just wanted to tell you first.”
He is still not speaking and it’s getting even more awkward and intense because it’s like you’re talking to yourself, you try again to break out of his grip, but it’s futile.
When you give him a weird look, Jungkook begins to laugh, taking you by surprise. It’s your turn to be confused.
Your soon to be ex-boyfriend, laughing like you just told him a great joke. And it’s starting to piss you off because this is not a joke.
You want to be free.
“Jungkook!” You call out his name, and he just leans more close to you if that’s even possible and all you can smell is expensive perfume, and the scent of cigarette coming from him.
Jungkook doesn’t reply to you and you actually feel like you’ll go insane. If he doesn’t want to reply to you that’s fine why doesn’t he just let you go?
Your questions aren’t answered, but he takes you by surprise once again by pulling you in for a kiss- he immediately shoved his tongue in and you let him because you’re so shocked to even comprehend what just happened.
What the fuck is he doing?
You just broke up with him and he’s kissing you, like his life, depends on it. He’s rough, running his hands all over your back, sloppily kissing you, swallowing your breath away.
You try to push him off of you, but then you just give up when he doesn’t budge, maybe he just wants to kiss you for the last time?
So you let him.
His touch is really familiar and you’re definitely going to miss it. You won’t even lie about that but.. you remind yourself that this is for the better and you shouldn’t melt.
After what feels like hours, he finally pulls away when you try to push him away once again, because he’s forgotten that he hast to stop.
You feel like you’ll actually suffocate, because you are unable to breathe at all, “o-oh my God.” You pant out, finally managing to push him away because he’s also panting, so take the opportunity to remove his hands from you, and you immediately start to back away.
“ what the fuck is wrong with you? I just broke up with you and that’s what you do? You are not allowed to do this anymore… and I’m going away.”
You’re gonna stay with your friend for a while because you don’t have an apartment of your own because you have been living with your ex-boyfriend for the past two years.
This relationship was rushed. You did things with him way too fast. And now you’re regretting every single decision.
“what the fuck are you talking about? Yn… are you fucking stupid? Ha.” he suddenly takes your attention, and you watch him wipe the corner of his lips.
“we’re not breaking up. What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you think this is funny because it’s not- I just came back from a long day work, and this is what you do to me?” He stalks towards your direction.
You back away, and he takes a step closer to you.
“you don’t hold the reins of this relationship- I do.” he scoffs, looking at you, like you’ve grown two heads. “you cannot leave me.” he runs his hands through his long curly locks, looking all frustrated.
“Now shut the fuck up” he smirks, trapping you in. “ do you want me to punish you?” The wall feels so cold, and you actually feel terrified of him.
The look in his eyes right now is animalistic. He looks murderous.
“don’t piss me off- the only way you can break up with me is by dying and I won’t let you die so easily.” do you want to speak but no words come out of your mouth.
Not when he speaks in that authoritive tone, but it’s pissing you off because you’re not a child and he is speaking to you like you you’re one misbehaving child, and you deserve to be scolded.
He’s toxic.
“you don’t own me. I’ve had enough.” You try to argue back but it’s no use really because your words are falling on deaf ears.
He doesn’t even deem you important enough to listen to what you’re saying. “Shut up. You’re really asking for it.” He looks like you with a sickly, sweet smile.
“now… I am hungry, so serve me food. I had a very stressful day and don’t make it even more stressful by talking bullshit.”
you want to scoff but what is the use? There is really no way out of this relationship.- you want to cry right now… this is not the man you fell in love with.
Right now you see a monster standing in front of you, who has got you trapped between him and the wall.
There is really no way out.
“there is no way out yn. Make your stupid little brain understand that. Before I make you.”
#jungkook smut#bts smut#jjk smut#yandere bts#yandere jungkook#yandere jjk#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jjk x reader#bts x reader#bts x you#jeongguk smut#smut#yandere x reader#yandere smut#jeon jungkook x reader#jungkook angst#bts angst#bangtan smut#jungkook fic#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fanfiction
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seven tattoos later | jjk
🐰pairing: fuckboy!jungkook x tattooartist!reader
🐰genre: fluff, smut
🐰summary: if the hottest fuck boy in town made it a point to visit your little tattoo studio every week, how many tattoos would it take to make you fall in love with him?
🐰word count: 3.3k
🐰warnings: unprotected sex, slight exhibitionism, sex on the couch, doggy, hes big and rough, lip tattoos, hickeys, lil bit of drinking, hes so annoying in this im so sorry
As you close up for the night, you look out the window and count at least four couples out for a dog walk. It’s past eight, but still warm and bright out. It’s like the sun never stops shining. Summer sucks like that.
Maybe you’d appreciate the sun a little more if you had a puppy to walk or at least a handsome guy friend to drag you outside so you aren’t just rotting away in your empty tattoo studio on a Friday night. Everyone’s apparently on vacation or getting married in Hawaii or something, so work’s been exceptionally slow this week. Fuck summer.
It’s lonely.
You might even miss Jeon Jungkook, the last person you ever expected to get along with. The first time he walked into your studio, he didn’t waste any time in hitting on you and making it painfully obvious. You were convinced he only walked in and got a tattoo that day because he thought you’d be an easy lay.
That was around two months ago.
“What do you think would look good on me?” he’d asked while scrolling through your portfolio. You knew exactly what he was doing. He wanted you to take in his good looks, imagine the carved out physique beneath that leather jacket. That’s what guys like him do. And he was far from the first male client to ask you that. He wasn't special.
“I don’t know, maybe like a bunny or a duckling?” You just said the first things that came to mind—your two favorite animals. You didn’t give a flying fuck about what design would actually look good on someone you’d just met. Your icy heart definitely doesn’t warm up to people that quickly no matter how hot they are.
“Bunnies are cute,” he said without hesitation. You swear he was staring right at the dainty bunny tattoo on your collarbone. Then he tapped the top of his left hand, the one without all the other tattoos. “I’ll take one right here.”
At the time, you didn’t think he was serious. (He was serious.)
“So, for touch-ups and stuff, it’d probably be good if I had your number, yeah?” he asked, leaning against the counter and admiring the final product on his hand. Him and his cocky ass smile. It’s annoying how hot he is. Unfair, too.
After inputting your number into his phone, you needed to make one thing very clear: “Send me a dick pic and I’ll tattoo all of your exes’ names on your forehead.”
“I promise no dick pics,” he chuckled. He must’ve taken your threat as a cute little joke. “But I would like to take you out sometime.”
For a moment, you just stared at his handsome face. Everything about him was bright and shiny. His pretty eyes, the art wrapped around his arm, that confident smile. The sun had nothing on him.
But the thing is, you knew better than to trust guys like him. They’re always saying shit they don’t mean. And you were tired of being let down by those empty words.
What would make Jeon Jungkook any different from the fuck boys who’ve burned you in the past?
You didn’t know enough about him to answer that question, but you also weren’t willing to get to know him.
It was for the best.
So after you politely declined the invitation, the boy nodded, waved farewell, and jogged out the door. At least he was decent enough to accept his fate and move right along. (He wasn’t.)
Just when you thought you’d gotten rid of him, he spun around. “See you next week for the touch-up, Y/N.”
He was still smiling like an idiot. You didn’t understand why.
“You’re not gonna need a touch-up in a week,” you shouted back as he dashed off. Fast little fucker. You doubt he heard you, but it didn’t really matter. With all those other tattoos, he already knew how touch-ups worked.
Besides, what were the odds of him showing his pretty face again after rejection? Every other client you turned down never came back. Not even for a touch-up.
You didn’t believe for a second Jeon Jungkook would be back.
A week later, he proved you wrong and waltzed right back in like you never rejected his ass. Of course he did. The week after that, he had three of your designs etched into his hand. And he just kept coming back for more, week after week.
Somewhere along the way, you learned he’s a wedding photographer, an artist like you. He’s shown you his photos a few times even after you specifically said you hate weddings. The photos were gorgeous, though. As much as weddings make you want to gag, the sweet moments he captured had the reverse effect. Somehow, you were envious of what those couples had.
You’ve also overcome the impossible task of learning to tolerate his dumb humor. It’s probably because his laugh and smile are so contagious. He won’t stop running his mouth until he sees you smile either, especially when you’re having a bad day. Your cheeks hurt whenever he’s with you.
Fast forward two months and he now has a total of seven of your tattoos. It feels weird not seeing him this week, not breathing in his woodsy cologne, not leaving your mark on his perfect skin. But you suppose that’s just what happens when the guy who’s been annoying the shit out of you suddenly goes to Hawaii. The withdrawal symptoms are kicking in.
Your world is a whole lot quieter. It’s peaceful for once. And yet, you miss that chaotic idiot.
Fuck summer. Fuck people who get married in Hawaii.
Your phone buzzes just as you finish cleaning up. Hopefully it’s someone who wants to book an appointment. (It’s not.)
When you read “jungcock,” you roll your eyes with the faintest smile—the perfect example of your clashing feelings for the boy.
jungcock🥴 [8:24PM] “Got time for me tonight?🫦”
Y/N🐰 [8:24PM] “arent you supposed to be in hawaii rn?”
Y/N🐰 [8:24PM] “and dont use that emoji ever again”
jungcock🥴 [8:25PM] “I’d never choose Hawaii over you😌”
jungcock🥴 [8:25PM] “(They called off the wedding)”
jungcock🥴 [8:25PM] “🫦”
[8:25PM] [jungcock🥴 is now blocked]
[8:31PM] [You’ve unblocked jungcock🥴]
jungcock🥴 [8:31PM] “Is that a yes?”
Y/N🐰 [8:31PM] “i hate you a lot”
jungcock🥴 [8:32PM] “Hear me out”
jungcock🥴 [8:32PM] “What if😳👉👈 I brought snacks?”
Y/N🐰 [8:34PM] “fine”
You groan and shove your phone back into your pocket. Sometimes you wonder how you let this dork finesse his way into your life. Where did you go wrong?
Jungkook arrives at your studio ten minutes later with your favorite peace offerings—soju and pancakes. Ah yes, this is how he finessed his way to the top.
“Ooh snacks,” you hum as if you didn’t believe in his ability to pick something up on the way over. “What kind of pancakes did you get?”
“Your favorite, obviously,” he nods, handing you the warm box and a fork. There’s something about the way he crosses his arms, as though he’s just waiting to catch your reaction when you open it. Why does he look so fucking proud of himself?
“I never told you my favorite pancakes.” You raise a brow. The only thing you told him was your favorite pancake place. But they have like a million different options, ranging from classic (blueberry and chocolate chip) to fancy (tiramisu and that edible gold stuff). There’s no way he can magically guess your favorite pancake.
“Just open it.” He gives you his idea of a “playful shove” on the shoulders, which would’ve knocked you over with the pancakes if he hadn’t grabbed a hold of your wrist. He was definitely that annoying kid on the playground who chased around all the girls he had a crush on.
You mumble on about him being too rough as you open the box. To your surprise, it’s strawberries and whipped cream drenched in red syrup on top of a fat stack of pancakes—aka your favorite pancakes.
You look up from the mountain of strawberries and tilt your head at the boy like a confused puppy.
“I asked the waitress with the purple hair what you normally order,” he explains.
“Okay, but she doesn’t know me by name. How’d you describe me to her?”
He takes a few steps closer until you get a whiff of that woodsy cologne you missed so much. You feel the tips of his fingers trace along your collarbone. He’s not so rough anymore. In fact, the warm caress just barely grazes your skin, as if to tease your body. You’ve always lowkey looked forward to that tiny bit of warmth while working on his tattoos. Maybe he’s always been aware.
“I called you a cutie with a bunny tattoo.” His nose scrunches when he smiles this time, giving your skin one last poke. “She knew it was you when I showed her the one on my hand.”
Of course Jeon Jungkook walked into your favorite pancake place pretending to be your boyfriend. Of course he did something as embarrassing as showing off what appears to be matching tattoos. All for the sake of bringing you your favorite pancakes on an otherwise shitty summer night.
“Now she’ll think we have matching tattoos,” you say softly, shoving his chest. “How am I supposed to show my face in there ever again?”
“Hey, I don’t have a problem with the whole matching tattoos thing.” He puts his hands up to protect his chest from your wrath in case you’re feeling feisty. “I’ll just pick it up for you again.”
You’re not feeling feisty, so you give the boy a thumbs-up and bring him over to the couch in the back corner of the studio where you usually eat or take naps.
At long last, you stab a piece of pancake and strawberry and coat it in whipped cream before shoving it into your mouth. It’s delicious. “Is it mean if I say I’m glad the Hawaii wedding was canceled?”
“Because you’d be lonely without me here?” he teases.
“No, it’s because you bought me free pancakes, you simp,” you grin, handing off the fork to the simp so he too can get a taste of heaven. He passes you the soju in return even though you’re already feeling a little giggly.
“It’s not free,” he denies. “I’m supposed to be here for another tattoo, remember?”
After a tiny sip, you set the green bottle aside and grab Jungkook’s hand with both of yours. It looks so silly with all your tattoos surrounding the cute little bunny in the middle. He’s silly for letting you do that to him.
“I don’t think there’s any more room on your hand for another one,” you giggle. “Where am I gonna tattoo you next?”
You wonder how many tattoos he has under his clothes. Maybe he’s already got them all over the place. Then, eventually, his body will run out of space and you won’t be able to tattoo him anymore. That would suck. You kinda like his company.
“What about a lip tattoo?” you chirp, tapping on his lower lip with your index finger. When he doesn’t swat you away, you tug down on his lip ring to check for a hidden tattoo there. Nothing. “I have one.”
“You do?” His eyes immediately fall on your red strawberry lips. You pull down your lower one for him to see tiny black letters that read “bad girl.”
“My ex did it. I was supposed to tattoo ‘bad boy’ on his lip, but he chickened out,” you shrug. “Isn’t that crazy?”
“Wait, I thought you can’t stand matching tattoos?” He’s such a good listener. Boyfriend material.
“I didn’t have anything against them up until that point,” you hum as you play with his wavy hair. The perm is cute on him. “But that’s basically when my perspective changed.”
That’s when you lost faith in men. When you grew to hate the idea of marriage. When you started rejecting every guy who approached you, even if he was half as hot as Jeon Jungkook.
“Well fuck your ex,” he frowns. Yeah, fuck him. No, wait. Your ex isn’t the one you want to fuck right now. “You’ve convinced me. The next tattoo I’m getting is a lip tattoo.”
“Got any design ideas for what you want there?” You climb into his lap, cup his chin with one hand, and play with his lip piercings some more. You’ve never been this up close and personal with Jungkook, but you like it. You can already feel his cock hardening beneath you through your leggings.
“Your lips,” he says without hesitation. Cheesy, but you’ll take any excuse right now to close the gap between you and him.
Just like that, something clicks in your body, and your lips just find their way to his. You’re not sure how much of it is alcohol and how much is your actual feelings for the boy, but it doesn’t really matter. Not when the kiss tastes like strawberry pancakes. It’s perfect.
You throw your arms over his shoulders as he kisses back. He’s already got his hands slipped up the back of your little tank top.
Your hips start to roll against him.
“Should we close the blinds?” he asks against your lips. “Unless you like an audience.”
You glance at the window. The sun is finally going down, but of course people are still walking their dogs. Maybe they didn’t get the memo that it’s officially fucking hours, not dog walking hours.
Normally, you’d be all for closing the blinds and turning out the lights, but your ass is nice and comfy in his lap and you’d rather not change that. Plus the back of the couch should hide 90% of what’s going on.
You shed your tank top off and toss it onto the coffee table next to the unfinished pancakes. His big eyes flick to your lacy black bralette.
“Let them watch.” You press your lips into his neck and suck away like a vampire. The hickeys you’re about to leave him with will have to make do as temporary tattoos for now. You’re not gonna have time to tattoo him tonight.
“You sure you want people to see you so desperate and needy like this?” he asks as you wiggle out of your leggings. His hands immediately find your ass and give it a good squeeze.
“I’m not needy,” you whine, your naughty hand feeling how large his cock is through his joggers.
“I think you’re pretty needy, Y/N.” Two fingers slip past your thong and spread the wet lust between your legs. He has the biggest smirk on his face as your body squirms to his touch. You do everything in your power to hold back a gasp. “Do you want me to fuck you that badly?”
Yes, but you’re not going to admit it. Ever.
“No way,” you answer with confidence. He helps you out of his lap and you let him prop you up on your hands and knees so he can get a good look at your ass. “This is just my way of thanking you for the pancakes since we both know you aren’t getting that lip tattoo tonight.”
“The lip tattoo can wait.” You feel your thong drop to the couch where it belongs. Two very strong hands hold you at the waist. “You’re my number one priority tonight.”
As he fills you with his cock, you’re already melting to the heat between your legs. Your weak little arms lose all their strength. You reach for your fluffy white cloud pillow to muffle your moans and let him do all the work from behind.
The tight hold he has on you is a mix of possessiveness and all the sexual tension built up over the past two months. You wonder how many times he thought about bending you over and fucking you silly in the midst of getting a cute little frog tattoo. You’ve seen the way his lustful eyes look at you during his appointments. You’re not that oblivious.
“Nice ass tattoo, by the way.” He pinches the bit of skin with two pink butterflies. You’d always regretted that one because not everyone shares the same appreciation for it, but that tiny love pinch made it all worth it. “You and your cute little tattoos.”
He slides in and out, pounding your deepest spot, and drawing a pathetic whimper from your throat every few seconds. Doesn’t help that he has a finger or two rubbing away at your swollen little clit. That’s when you realize you’ve been missing out on amazing sex for far too long. Seven whole tattoos. That’s how long it took before you gave in.
He’s already rougher now than the playful shove that nearly knocked you over earlier. Good.
This is exactly what you need after such a boring work week.
“What would you be doing now if I were taking wedding pictures in Hawaii?” His voice is getting breathier. He’s working hard out there.
“Gagging at all the romantic shit you’d be sending me.” Even if he weren’t physically there with you, you know he’d still find a way to be annoying. He’d let you know he’s still thinking of you.
“Don’t worry, I won’t make you gag tonight.” You don’t have to turn around to know he’s got that dumb smirk on his face. “Maybe another time. If you’re into that.”
Your response is a soft moan into the pillow. The thought of his cock shoved down your throat isn’t as repulsive as you would’ve thought two months ago. Giving head isn’t usually your thing, but you’re open to trying it with him. You’re glad he can’t see you lick your lips.
He doesn’t slow down either, instead picking up the pace and going harder. Your fingers dig into the pillow, your whole body dripping in pleasure. It feels too good.
“Mm, Jungkook,” you pant like a poor puppy with your ass up in the air. Your little clit can’t take much more of his fingers. You’re so close.
“Thought you couldn’t stand me,” he teases as you tighten around him. He’s so annoying! During sex, too. “And now you’re about to cum for me?”
“Fuck you,” you gasp as the wave of pleasure passes through you. His fingers and cock help you ride out the high. He’s lucky he’s a sweet guy with a strong sex game. Otherwise you wouldn’t have fallen for his annoying ass.
As soon as he pulls out, he flips you onto your back, staring down at you with his cock in hand. A few extra pumps along his length is all he needs to get his release and drizzle your belly with his creamy glaze.
He climbs over you to give you a soft peck on the lips. You’ve been with a lot of fuck boys before, but you can’t remember any of them kissing you once the sex was done and over with.
This boy is different.
He lets you lie there, basking in the afterglow as he searches the studio for a clean towel. When he finally gets ahold of one, he offers a hand to help you sit up and gets you cleaned up.
“All jokes aside, I’m happy you were here tonight,” you say in a tiny voice. “Fuck Hawaii weddings.”
He chuckles in his usual adorkable way. “You should come to a wedding with me sometime—when I’m not working, of course. Maybe you won’t hate them as much as you think.”
You lean in for another kiss. There’s still a hint of pancake on his tongue, but it's even sweeter. “Sure.”
The corners of his lips curve upward in satisfaction. The annoying little shit is about to jump out. You can feel it. (The annoying little shit does not jump out.)
“Now finish your pancakes,” he smiles. For once, it’s not him looking all smug and shit. And it’s really endearing.
Somehow, he just keeps proving you wrong. In a good way.
You look at your favorite pancakes on the table and wave them off. “Nah, I’m good.” Once more, you scoot your ass onto him and press a finger to his lip. “I think I like the taste of you better.”
#bts smut#jungkook smut#bts scenarios#bts imagines#bts fanfic#bts x reader#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x reader#jungkook tattoo#bts fluff#jungkook fluff#bts fuck boy au#seven tattoos later
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A Doe in Fall (part 7)
⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall
Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds Part 11 - Caught Part 12 - Eddie Part 13 - The Release Part 14 - Someone like her smutty💦
Part 7 Recognition
It was time to start again. Alastor couldn't forget what his mother had wanted, even if she didn't ask it of him directly. And while he finds his comfort again in killing, Detective Brady finds a lead.
「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, smut, reader's thighs as ear muffs, referencing cruel racists in the early 20th century south, reference to marital violence, pussy eaten, p in v sex, no creampie BOO, bad dancing, Alastor's southern accent, Alastor's mother, gossip, murder, greed , two idiots pretending they aren't madly in love, poor family planning, lots of 1920's slang with notes for your ease」
I think I fixed the broken tag list!
....it's been over a month. Here's nearly 9000 words of our favorite idiots. I feel weird labeling this smut now as...we are...kinda past the smut point and just making sweet sweet love. lol ugh gross. thank you to everyone whose offered help, donated, and shared the word about my mom! It’s been an immense help and has made her a little emotional (in a good way) <Florida stole my moms teeth— explanation and donation link> unrelated, anyone want some RadioDust?
Minors…. Minors. My inbox counts as interacting when you’re literally in there requesting smut. I know your bio has no age but baby honey darling I can tell by your writing. 🔞 Do Not Interact 🏠🚗
A development he knew was coming even if no one else believed him. A drug addict with debts to the local crime syndicates disappearing was neither suspicious nor a mystery. Everyone was confident it was obvious Tommy was at the bottom of Lake Pontchartrain or halfway to California.
But not to him, not for Detective Brady. He had been on the beat for the better part of a year, convinced there was a connection between some of the disappearances in town.
No one wanted to hear it though, most people didn’t even care the people were missing. Only the occasional wife, concerned how she would keep a roof over her head and food in her kid’s bellies with the man of the house gone. But other than that, no tears or chest beating for the missing men and women.
Which made him confident there were countless more unreported cases. Just because no one missed them, a crime is a crime.
But, no bodies, no blood, no crime scenes… he looked like he had lost the fucking plot to his colleagues.
The city didn’t want the bad press, not to mention the fact there was no actual crime to be reported. Someone up and left down? Okay, he was a wife beater? Probably left with his mistress. The cruel den mother of the home for unwanted kids? Her assistant takes the lead and she moves onto a new town to menace. Probably running from the people angry with her.
But he finally had something. Tommy was pimping out dancers, and even laid hands on one. Surely there was a man looking for revenge for that. Can’t knock around a man’s woman and have it go unanswered.
So he tried again to find the woman whose only name he knew was a moniker. Autumn Hind.
Every time Brady came to the theater, another excuse. You left early. You were on the roof smoking—- oh, you slipped out the back. Weekends were your off days, so that was useless.
“You’re obsessed.” Detective Freeman threw an eraser he’d picked off his pencil at Brady. He had seen the man devolve slowly over the past couple months.
“Thanks.” Brady was staring at his notes.
“Not a compliment, Kenny. Shit happens, people leave town. You’re acting like a handful of no shows are some conspiracy.” Freeman came to stand behind Brady, leaning over to read his notes, “How can you even read that chicken scratch?”
He clapped the notebook shut, “Every report was a person less than liked. What are the chances they all leave town in the middle of the night, last seen in the same general area?”
Freeman patted his shoulder, “Did you just ask me why a bunch of assholes,” he stood up and made a show of stretching out tired muscles, “who liked illegal hooch* and jazz with plenty of enemies disappeared?” (*booze)
Brady slapped his desk, “There! You said it! They had enemies. But what— what if they had one enemy in common. A bar manager or — or a,” he was still looking for that link.
“Kenny, the boogeyman isn’t roaming New Orleans killing people. If the higher ups don’t care, if the families don’t care, it doesn’t matter. Let it go.”
The sleep deprived detective sunk into his wooden chair, swiveling side to side anxiously, “Tommy’s mother cares.”
“Yeah well mom’s are famously bad judges of character.” Slipping on his jacket, he shot a worried look to his partner, “Ya gonna go home? Janet’s probably a mess. You’ve been keeping late hours.”
“Nah not yet. I gotta get to the theater before this dame goes ghost on me again.”
“Yikes, still? You’ve been chasing her for a while.” He was making a slow inching walk to the door.
“It’d be easier if I had some support. I gotta do this on my own time.” A deep sigh, well past the point of hiding his frustration with his colleagues and bosses. Freeman looked over the wrinkled shirt and wilted tie, evidence of a man losing his grip.
“Welp, good luck buddy. Hope you get to the bottom of whatever this is.” He gestured at the messy desk and disheveled man, “See ya tomorrow.”
Brady waved without looking up. His eyes were staring into the black leather of his notepad. Tommy was the only recent assumed victim with any real suspicion. The woman whose husband disappeared after going to see a show? Only enemy to him was her, and she wasn’t strong enough to take him down. Deadend.
Most recent, nice young man from up north. Went out for a good time, hoping to catch a little lady for some stress relief, according to his coworkers. Never showed up at work the next day. No one had a bad word to say about the man. Making him an outlier, but still. He was young, strong, soft spoken. Not an enemy in sight but no family to worry, either. Deadend.
But Tommy. Someone cared he was gone. He was in the jazz game, the drug dens, the illegal drink business, and had a heavy hand. He was the perfect bad man, right?
He looked across his desk. Bad men. The occasional unsavory woman. Maybe it was just their time. They pissed off the wrong people.
Or the wrong person.
Someone who worked downtown, someone into dance and drink, someone with nights free to do his work. Maybe a hired gun? No, some of these people didn’t have the money for that.
Plus, one person and so many missing? That would be unheard of, it’d be some kind of record for Louisiana.
A record Brady could claim.
When he entered the theater James, the manager who replaced Tommy, noticeably rolled his eyes, getting in front of the man. “It’s real bad for business to have a cop in here all the damn time. Come on, if you’re not here for a raid then could you be a little less obvious.”
Brady looked past him, “What do you mean?”
“You’re— what is it? What can I do for you?”
“Here again for Miss Autumn. Care to give her real name yet?”
“No can do. Ain’t my business to tell. She’s finished her set, asked to head home early.” Brady turned and kicked a chair over, a large man approaching behind the manager before seeing the hip badge and backing up. “Nah we’re not doing that. We’ve told her you’ve come by but she’s a busy lady. Several gigs here and there. Enough, you’re harassing the dancers now.”
With a snap, Brady had his finger in the manager’s face, “Whatcha gonna do? Call the cops?”
“She. Isn’t. Here. What the fuck do you want? For me to tie her up and bring her to your station?”
That’d be ideal.
A month, nearly. Coming once or twice a week to try and speak to you but every time he missed you. He was going to snap if he heard one more time you were gone. Maybe everyone was in on it. Maybe you werenin the back right now laughing at him.
Brady scanned the room, “Where’s she live?”
“How the fuck would I know— please, leave.” James gestured to the doors.
He lifted his badge up, waving it at the patrons seated closest to him, “Yall know it’s still illegal to partake-,”
“Jesus! Enough!” The manager pushed him back, flashing an apologetic smile to the guests, “She moonlights Sundays at The Dime near the park on 5th, singing for a friend. That’s all I got about her life off stage. Will you fucking go?”
The detective perked up, “See, was that so hard?”
Finally, he could feel his fingers grasp the shifting shadow that was his only lead.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
“I never said sorry.”
You turned your head, not expecting him to say something serious. Waiting, he didn’t add explanation. Sorry? What had he done… ran out of milk? Forgot to bring in the towels before it rained last week? A quick search of your memory yielded nothing.
“For what?”
He was staring off in front of him. “For putting you in danger before. In the park. I am sincerely sorry.”
You’d somehow almost forgotten. It’d been weeks. Every bad feeling that night had brought you had been carried away by good morning kisses and gentle words before sleep. Nearly every night was spent in his bed, Alastor dropping you off at your apartment when he went downtown for work. The incident in the park was a different lifetime already.
Had he really put you in danger? Or had you rushed into the danger of his hobby to feel closer to him?
“I put myself in that situation. You didn't throw me at that guy. I don’t do a damn thing I don’t want to do. You should have learned that by now.”
Tough act for a woman who jumped up to pour some man’s coffee.
You shook your head, you had to stop equating doting on Alastor as a show of weakness. It wasn’t. Even if admitting that meant admitting you were wrong.
But he had put you in danger’s way, he knew it. “No, you wouldn’t have ever been in that situation if it wasn’t for me.”
Your laughter bounced off the car windows, “Alastor, you met me getting choked to death by a strange man. People will always make dangerous situations for women to be in. Don’t act like you’re special.” A sly smile to ease his anxious heart. “I’d rather be in danger for you than just because I’m a woman. If it’s gonna happen anyway, might as well be worth something.”
His hand slipped onto your thigh, expression softening before his own smile grew again, “Don’t lie to my face so easily. I am very special, we can all agree.”
You looked around, the two of you alone in his car on a side street, “All? You know the trunk is still empty, right?”
“Oh, is that so? You’re quite dangerous yourself, I nearly forgot why we were here.” He patted his pockets to make sure he had what he needed. “When I give you a wave, back up to me, okay? Don’t leave the car. Just drive off if-,”
You kissed his cheek, “Shut it. Not a chance. Go give em hell, baby.”
Alastor crumpled against his steering wheel momentarily, your words cutting his heart open in a most wonderful way. He could never have predicted getting kisses before beginning his dark work. What had he done to deserve this? Perhaps proof someone in hell was in full support of his actions. Straightening his back and checking his hair and glasses in the mirror, he flashed you a smile before slipping out of the car.
When Alastor said he was ready to begin killing again, you were a mix of excited and scared. Excited for normalcy to return but scared of the dangers presented there in. You’d been dodging the blue eyed detective for a while already, and moving forward meant possibly making mistakes he could grab a hold of. Not mentioning the risk of someone hurting Alastor again…but for your part in everything, you and Alastor found a compromise.
A deal had been made. You’d stay in the car and bring it to him when he was done. He had asked you flee if something went wrong but you both knew that wasn’t going to happen. Crawling into the driver’s seat, you tried to remember what he had taught you. How to get it started up, how to make it go backwards. How to make it go, in general. You’d never driven a car. Well, not until Alastor insisted on teaching you. Driving up and down the long stretch of road he lived on, Alastor white knuckling the door handle as you jerked the car forward with every failed shift. You had started on his land, but he feared for his home's safety with you behind the wheel.
Your hands slipped down the steeling wheel, big and round. Your mother would’ve had a hoot had she seen you in the driver’s seat. Clearing your throat, you leaned into the back of the car and double checked the canvas was properly secured.
Another man tonight. The few times you’d both gone out for leisure, having preferred to spend time alone at home, Alastor had gotten gossip that piqued his interest.
You remembered the way the woman’s hand touched his arm when she leaned in. “You didn’t hear it from me but it’s best to avoid French Study on Thursdays. Real piece of work slipping something in drinks and robbing people.” He reported what she had said back to you. It’d panicked you, realizing you were closer to being on Alastor’s list than you’d realized.
“No, the issue isn’t the stealin’. It’s what he does with the people with,” he had been delicate as he said it, taking another long sip of whiskey, “other things of value. And the fact this man has no need to steal. It’s ridiculous! His family has been land ownin’ and well off for generations.” Alastor was always impassioned when discussing the things he hated, even when slipping into drunkenness. His accent came through when he had too much to drink, his real accent. The accent his mother had. “You robbed men for power balance, for their assumptions you were easy to manipulate to begin with. He? Uh, Him? He’s just a piece of shit. He thinks he’s better than everyone else. And no one would report him ‘cause his family name.”
His drink spilled a little, when you had offered to clean it he just slipped the button up off. He lost his usual classy air as the bottle emptied. Which you actually liked.
The benefits of drinking on his back porch was no need to worry about decorum. Music was softly spilling from the open window behind you, Alastor’s prized record cabinet spinning the newest presses.
“It’s like there’s a little bug under my skin,” he wiggled his fingers over his sternum, “It’s gonna dig into my bones if I don’t cut it out.”
Despite your own drunkenness, you nodded and followed along, “So, ya gonna kill ‘em?”
Alastor pouted, making you snort, “I don’t want to think about that right now.” He enunciated every word clearly in his practiced and professional voice.
You’d ended the evening playfully arguing the merits of prohibition on the jazz scene and watching Alastor dance around the wrap around porch. But the conversation hadn’t ended for him.
Little hints he was still focused on it popped up over the following week. Alastor randomly asking you how it felt to be drugged, did you wake up in pain? Embarrassed? Scared? You caught him staring at the greenhouse from the window one morning, lost in thought. Before he had finally said he wanted to go out again, you understanding what that meant, you’d seen him turning a dinner knife over and over in his hand impatiently.
And now here you were. In the car beside a park late Thursday, Alastor having done some scouting while you’d finished up early at the theater.
It took hours. Which was good, it meant Alastor wasn’t rushing. He liked the stalking aspect of killing, of watching someone from across a room knowing exactly how their night would end. And as that man whose name would soon be buried with him alternated smiling and barking orders at staff, Alastor felt his stomach flutter. Like watching a slab of meat slowly turn over the fire. The crueler he was, the worse he acted, the more Alastor found his fingers tapping on the bar with anticipation. Perfect. Damn yourself more. No fake smiles or double faces, no, people like him didn’t even try to play the game others were forced into. Born with money and land already theirs, they didn’t even know the rules.
But Alastor did. Alastor mastered them at the tender age of 14. When he realized his father’s features were a shield. His mother’s lessons on manners and charm his weapons. The first time he was in mixed company, when someone leaned in and whispered a cruel “prank” he had planned for a young dark skinned woman on the other side of the room, he understood. They pulled back and smiled at him, and he managed to muster one of his own. Just smile, they’d take it to mean whatever they wanted it to mean because they thought he was of the same mindset. They assumed it. Like so many other things people would assume about him as he grew.
When he told his mother the story after getting home, she shook her head. When he had asked her what he should have done, she set down her book.
“Well, I’d love to say you should have stood up for her. But I’d also like to have my son above ground.”
He asked her why she couldn’t have both.
“Sweetheart, we don’t usually get the choice to do either, let alone both.”
He offered a solution, after a moment of thinking, “I shoulda buried him first then.”
“Wouldn’t it be nice if that was how the world worked?” She returned to her book, “If God just struck em down dead as soon as they hurt people. Better yet, before.”
It would be nice. It was nice. Because Alastor couldn’t wait for God to make the world his mother mentioned. He grinned ear to ear, gloves a second skin, as the man crawled backwards in the grass like an animal cornered. His heart was pounding in his ears. Where to cut first? The gut, his family fat and soft from the money they made off the labor of others? The pale neck of a man who never spent a day outside, instead indoors drugging strangers for sport? The chest covered in a fine cotton shirt he didn’t appreciate?
He wished he had many arms, as many as he could imagine, to slash and tear in tandem.
“What do you want? Money?” the animal asked him.
Alastor shook his head no. No, he didn’t want money.
“Do you know who I am?”
Alastor nodded. “That is precisely why I am here.”
Would he beg? Cry? Bargain? Experience told him it’d be the latter.
“Alright well, if you know who I am you know you’re making a mistake. Here.” The man opened his wallet and pulled out a few greenbacks, holding them out for Alastor. Alastor’s smile softened slightly, remembering tossing you a wallet once before.
He reached down with his left hand to take the money, but instead grabbed the man’s wrist. Swiftly, quicker than the man could process, he took the knife tucked into his belt behind his vest and stabbed the man in the stomach.
Staring into his eyes, he could see his own image looking back at him. Smiling.
Alastor grabbed your face with both wrists, hands bloody and one still holding the knife, and kissed you when he’d flagged you down.
“Is this for bringing the car around without running you over?” Your eyes glanced at the knife beside your head. He apologized, tossing it into the trunk.
“No, just happy to see you.” A mischievous grin that made your knees weak, his body shimmied closer until he was pressed against you, stealing another kiss. His arms stretched out to keep from bloodying you. Your fingers slid up his cheeks to return the kiss. “Thank you, dear.”
When you returned home, to his home, that is, you took to task bringing in the laundry he’d left on the line and putting away the things still on the counters from breakfast. You couldn’t resist going to the second floor room and looking down into the greenhouse. You couldn’t see perfectly well, but you could see nonetheless. Alastor didn’t want you in the greenhouse yet when he was working. He said it was the ugliest parts, the kind that would sure give you nightmares or rob you of your appetite.
Considerate. But, it only made you more curious. Would you be sick if you saw? Would you never eat meat again?
What would you do if you didn’t have any reaction at all?
You watched Alastor leave the greenhouse and lock the door behind him, so you hopped down the stairs to meet him in the hall beside the kitchen.
He’d been sweating, shirt open to reveal a thin white undershirt, and under his arm was a canvas roll. He lifted it up, “Tools. Rinsed them off but I’d like to dry them under the electric lights.” You grabbed the aprons from the wall hooks, Alastor letting you slip it over his head and tie it for him. “Why so tight?”
“I like the way it makes your waist look.” You’d seen him wear it when making biscuits. It made his shape so clear. It reminded you of watching water drip down his sides and roll off his hips in the shower.
He beamed, “I’m listening. What exactly do you like about my waist?” Sharp brows raised as that friendly tongue peeked out at you.
“Hush.” You cooed.
You stood on the long side of the table, him at the short, and took turns wiping the tools dry and checking the other’s work.
As he grabbed each one he would tell you what he used it for. Holding up the garden shears and explaining the point along the blade that had the strongest force. The advantage of curved pruning blades when used on a human body. His eyes were gleaming as he spoke, looking so lovingly at each item like it was a loyal pet.
He finally noticed you were grinning and chuckling softly, so he dropped his smile for dramatic effect, “What? What’s so funny?”
Shaking your head, you set down the next item for him to inspect, “Nothing. You’re just so cute when you’re talking about your passions. Your face lights up from the inside out.”
His breath hitched, smile actually lost as he processed every syllable. Your turn now to notice him staring as you looked up from your work. You recognized that look though, the wide eyes and serious lips. The air of the kitchen felt like the atmosphere before a thunderstorm rolled in.
Alastor set the tools back onto the canvas one by one and carried them to the counter. Before returning he picked up a small knife and set it near the edge of the table.
“Come here.” He nodded his head to space in front of him. The way he said it, that tone, made your heart begin to skip beats.
You slid between him and the table, Alastor lifting you up with a startling ease and setting you onto cool wood. Kicking your legs a little, you set nervous hands onto your lap. You wanted to touch him. To pull him by the apron straps into you.
“How do you always say the right things?” He closed the distance between you, one hand on your neck while his mouth came to your ear. “The things I didn’t know I wanted to hear?”
Swimming. Your mind was swimming. “Why is your idea of right the same as my idea of the truth?” You could feel the grin. Sighing into your ear, down your neck, his hands grabbed your hips and pulled you off the table enough to press your core into his clothed erection. Even through his pants and the apron, you could feel him clearly. When did he get so hard? You always wondered in those moments if it was the topic of discussion. Or the knives. Or your need. Biting your lip wasn’t a thought out action, but Alastor loved to see it. Rolling his hips into you in response.
“Wanna go upstairs?” you asked.
He shook his head, slipping off his glasses.
“Oh no, don’t even wanna see me?” You teased, but firm hands held you tighter to him in response.
“I won’t be letting you get far enough away from me for that to be a problem.”
When he leaned down and his lips so very gently pressed into yours, you could feel it. That missing something from before. It was in the air, it was rolling off of his body and dampening your senses. A desire, a drive that you felt that first time you had sex with him in that apartment above the theater. A motivation that was lacking last time in his bed.
His eyes were staring down into yours, waiting for your response. Eagerly you replied by chasing his mouth with yours. A chain of kisses as you tried to ever remember enjoying kissing another person as much as him.
Not a single soul. Why did it feel like this was all you ever needed? Eyes closed and lips on lips, hands in his hair, it felt like you’d been holding your breath all of your life. His body on yours was a gasp of air.
For Alastor, he couldn’t even think of breathing when around you. Let alone when your mouth was on him. Every time you touched him all he could think about was the word ‘affection’.
So when your tongue swiped up his lips, he moaned as he opened for you. Not because he was new to kissing someone with so much lust. He’d grown accustomed to the things you did to him. No, because you were a fever that had taken hold of him and your kiss the medicine that soothed his delirium.
He wondered, was that why people called it ‘love sick’?
“You really like me, don’t you?” He asked, nose sliding up your jaw.
An opportunity presented to you. A chance to spill over the edges.
You pushed it away, legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him closer.
“Something like that, yeah.”
His hands pressed flat against the table to balance the deep roll of his hips against you. One of your own fell behind you to keep from falling backwards, the other flung over his shoulder. When you moaned into his cheek he captured the sound with his mouth and slipped his tongue back into you.
You liked him. He’d known people to love and not like their partner an ounce, but the way you appreciated his quirks made his heart sing in its brittle cage. You never ceased to see him. The issue with always putting on a show is people tend to be disappointed when the actors become human again. But you never met his persona. He was knife wielding, bloodlusting Alastor from the first word. So when he was himself, you recognized him clearly. Because he was all you ever knew.
And you liked him
You appreciated him.
He dared to think maybe he could inspire more from you. A thought that made him twitch below the belt.
Closer. He needed you closer. He needed you so near to him that he’d never forget the feeling of being wanted. It’d be imprinted on his chest and his arms and his lips.
Impatient hands slipping up your sides, along your neck, down your chest. His greedy mouth suddenly understanding the same greed he once marveled at in your own kisses. Hot tongue sliding over yours, delving deeper into you with every return.
When his hands seemed to come to an agreement, they yanked you forward again. You’d fall off ass-first if he pulled you any further.
You watched with only slight horror has he grabbed the small knife and hiked up your dress in tandem. A gulp, worried the other shoe had finally dropped on a too-good situation.
“Are you particularly attached to these panties?” His eyes were looking up and over his glasses.
“No?” Did you really need panties, you wondered. Ever? Girdles we’re falling out of fashion perhaps you’d all be naked again soon enough. Maybe you two could start another Eden. A pomegranate’s juice the new red staining his skin.
Not even a tremble, his hands lifted each side and sliced them free.
“Oh?” You didn’t have a real question in mind when he tucked the panties into his back pocket. Just a need to express you saw it and didn’t understand it.
Alastor took your hand and pressed it against his hardened length, eyes locked onto yours with a sharpness to them. But when your hand took hold of him and squeezed, everything softened in his features. Funny how where one area grew stiff another melted.
He rolled his eyes closed as you finally undid his belt and pants. A struggle you didn’t see, Alastor trying to keep from pouncing on you like a horny virgin. He didn’t want to rut into you, he didn’t need the pleasure. He needed something he couldn’t see or explain. He just knew you held it behind your teeth.
When your skin pressed into his and you both moaned together he was sure you were the same. One person, split into insufficient parts. Finally lined up flush in place.
When you circled your hips against his aching cock, he wondered what you were chasing after. Was it the pleasure? He’d give it to you in spades.
He was on his knees with his face between your legs before you could close your thighs in surprise.
You needed both hands now to keep from falling back onto the table. “Alastor,” a whine.
He knew better than to talk with his mouth full, so he let two fingers work their way into you with shallow thrusts. Easing you open for him.
“Yes?” His eyes didn’t leave his fingers, glistening under the kitchen light. You hadn't thought much ahead past his name, once his fingers were in you and curling up to find your spongy and soft bundle of nerves your mind had gone empty.
“We can just fuck, if you’re horny.” You watched him watching himself.
“Where’s the fun in that?” His mouth returned to your mound, broad tongue forming a point and finding your clit.
A lazy moving tongue would be frustrating if not for his fingers punishing your g-spot. Consistency was key, and his hand was focused and skilled.
Suddenly you remembered the piano in the sitting room. That’s where you knew that movement from. That clearly practiced muscle memory.
Alastor felt confident everywhere but rarely did he feel comfortable. When your thighs came together and squeezed him at the ears, he felt positively cozy. Would you be so kind as to be his ear muffs come winter? He’d have to remember to ask when his mouth was free. How many cold nights he could now rest assured he would have warmth just a little dive of his head away.
Lowering his mouth, nose buried in your muff, he wriggled his tongue in with his fingers. Not enough, rarely was anything enough any more. He stilled his hand and prodded at your sensitive walls with that intrusive tongue, relishing the little movements you made in response. Taking his digits out entirely, he buried his wet muscle as deeply as he could reach.
The huffs of exhales you were making triggered a moan from him that you felt through your skin. His enjoyment was tripling your pleasure.
Goosebumps ran up your arms at the combine sensations of his moaning and prodding.
When his lips and tongue returned to their uneven teasing of your clit, three fingers now swiping past your inner spot with every thrust, your hands came to his head. Fingers slipping through his hair and gripping every time your body shook. Encouragement, the more you tugged the surer he was he was doing the right things.
And oh, he was. You said the right things but Alastor always seemed to act on them. Your senses lodged themselves between the even stroking of your g-spot and the unpredictable movements of his tongue. One kept the pressure rising as your orgasm climbed, the other pushed you along jolt by jolt.
Curious thing. That night in the park he didn’t have much reaction to your enjoyment, but he found himself not fully softening in his lap as he continued. Normally, unless still physically stimulated or the rare time you stirred something in him, he wasn’t very… battle ready.
But the feeling of you pulling him in by the head, fingers in his hair and thighs at his cheeks; this was different than the others. He was sure now it wasn’t just physical pleasure you wanted. His pride said it was more.
Dozens of times before— he truly was a rake in some aspects, though admittedly it was all in the pursuit of avoiding “sex”, as defined by most, not chasing it — he helped a date find release with his tongue. But it never did anything for him. They moaned and said his name and screamed. Which was lovely. Who doesn’t enjoy recognition?
When you said his name, it was heavier. It was material, it had mass and as its gravity began its pull he found his mind circling that sound. He was pleasing his darling, not placating. And it made him react in that unusually crass way.
He felt like an apex predator when killing, tearing open animals made for him to hunt. But you made him feel baser. Prey in your gentle bite.
As your orgasm mounted, you began tugging at his hair to pull him off. You didn’t need him to stop, but everything was suddenly too sensitive. It was alarming to feel your body rocking from overstimulation. A strident cry filled the kitchen as your back arched off the table. He didn’t let up, despite how much you thrashed under his mouth. Rolling pleasure, muscles electrified and shaking beyond your control.
You patted his head harshly, “Good, I’m good. Alas—tor! Fuck!”
Ah, he loved when you swore. It punctuated your otherwise preternatural aura with a touch of humanity.
He stood and leaned over your now reclining body. Your pussy still clenching and legs shaking as he admired his work. You admired his shape in his apron, his broad shoulders and sharp eyes. Caught between your legs like a lion in a mouse trap; he acted like he had no way free of you. His grin widened and he made a display out of licking each finger clean. Eyes never leaving yours.
You knew many men to squawk at going down on a woman. To balk at wearing an apron. To grimace at the suggestion of cooking a meal while their lady took a nice bath or enjoyed a coffee. Alastor seemed to not think twice about any of it. How nice it would be. To have a partner beside you, to not be the woman in the often referenced “behind every great man is a great woman.”
“Alastor, I want you.” You pulled him down by the neck and stole a kiss. When he began to stroke himself fully back to life you pressed that hand to his chest. “Not like that. Though I’m not declining the offer.”
His eyes saw something in yours. “Sweetheart, you have me. There is no part of me that isn’t possessed by you. I know we keep things relatively… tightlipped for safety but I’m your fella and you’re my gal.” His nose touched yours. “But if you want more, I’ll become more. I’ll break myself apart and make myself better.”
Your heart sank. Sitting up to command a little authority, a feat given you were sitting panty-less on a kitchen table, “Don’t you dare. I’ll always meet you where you are, got it? Don’t go… groping around in the darkness for me; trying to find what I need. I’ll always come to you. Because you’re more than enough as you are.”
A little cough to clear his tightening throat, “I’ve not had a day of darkness since you arrived.” A kiss to your forehead before a soft thumbpad wiped at the corner of your eye. “Did I make you sad?”
You wanted to say it. But not now, not like this. You didn’t want Alastor to connect love and sex. To think one was necessary for the other.
While you were coming to learn how lovely it was to pair the two together, it was a fact they were wholly independent things. And you couldn’t allow him to think they were a set.
“You’ve made me too happy. It’s absolutely terrifying.”
But Alastor had found your expressions of acceptance always tumbled the circle of Love to overlap with that of Sex. It was only in that mixed space did he find desire in pleasure.
A wicked smirk, “Let me pile on my affections and drown out your fears.” His hips rolled into you again, a surprising eagerness returned to his lap. “Can I continue?”
With a nod and a smile, “But not another word of change, buster.” You leaned back on your hand for support. Alastor was happy to return to your heat, lining up and sinking into you. An embrace like no other, one he found particularly earnest when with you.
Close. Finally. You began where he ended, a natural extension of who he was and who he could be. The things he could have. A relieved sigh he didn’t try to hide before he began moving, a moment when his tension could melt. You were both an unseasonably warm autumn day and the cool comforting shade of an unfamiliar tree. Both the heat and the relief.
He watched your body rock against the table, even fully dressed you managed to look more scandalous than any show he’d seen downtown. He was grateful he didn’t seek this comfort often in others, the way his mind melted made him feel vulnerable. He couldn’t think straight. And then you began to make those lovely little groans, high pitched and needy, and he was sure his soul was errant.
As his thrusts deepened, cock no longer kissing your cervix but ramming into you with good intentions, you dropped back as you lost the battle against his hips.
Alastor’s arms slid up our waist and pulled your arms towards him, “Too far, I can’t see your face.”
Your arms were slung over his shoulders as your back curved for him, “You don’t need to see my face.”
“Tsk, wrong.”
Your new favorite place was right in front of him, wherever his line of sight was you wanted to be in it. Nose to nose, heads tilting to recapture soft lips and softer moans.
Until the softness left, Alastor’s skin slapping against yours as he dragged those lovely sounds from you. He watched your eyes roll closed, mouth open as you moaned with the safety of the seclusion of a country home. A thought bubbled up, inspired by you.
“I want the neighbors to hear you.” That smile half cocked across his upsettingly handsome face. His hand slipped between you both to repeat the motions he learned before. Hard and fast, no choice but to raise your voice.
Your head fell back, clit still sensitive, “You don’t have neighbors!” A new moan hitting the walls.
“I do— just a few miles down the road, dear.” His mouth latched onto your neck but he didn’t suck like he wanted, he couldn’t bite. Your skin was your job, your body not his to mark. Suddenly he remembered, “Do you still have that make up? For your bruises?”
You couldn’t understand why he would bring that up while balls deep in you but you nodded.
“Would it work on your neck?” He nipped lightly.
It clicked, “Absolutely.”
You felt like a teenager again. When his tongue swiped over your soft flesh before he began to suck on the skin there you could feel the heat rising off your chest. You could feel him everywhere, and with the knowledge he wanted to hear you, you tossed your shame out of the kitchen window and relaxed into the pleasure.
As he moved up your neck he left little marks behind. There was no sense left you didn’t occupy. He could smell the soap and sweat of your skin, taste your cunt still on his tongue, your sights and sounds a decadence he couldn’t get used to. And the feeling of you… velvety walls, a feeling finer than silk as he slipped in and out of you. So incredibly hot on his most sensitive areas, pulling him back in with admirable strength.
He felt his orgasm ratcheting up but tried to hold back. He wanted more time to experience your ecstasy, to wallow in your openness. Even pressed skin to skin now wouldn’t satisfy that deep desire for this unique level of intimacy. So he wanted to enjoy it for as long as he had it.
But, he knew he should prepare. “I don’t want to dirty your dress.” A lust heavy voice penetrating the nap of your neck. He’d made a risky release before at your urging, something he often thought about when work got quiet. But he knew he needed to think clearer now.
“Then don’t.” A terrible reply but you wanted all of him, every drop of his hunger for you. “Keep the mess in me.”
“My dear,” he slowed his hips, autopilot keeping them moving at all, “I don’t think now is the time for,” you tightened around him to trip him up, which worked spectacularly. Alastor had take several seconds before continuing, “talks on family planning.”
A pang of nausea and fear, small and sharp in your abdomen. It wasn’t that you weren’t aware of biology, just that Alastor brought out your baser animal instincts, too. And before, when he came buried as deeply as he could reach, it felt like you’d actually completed some ritual. Bears hibernated, birds migrated, Alastor came in you.
You’d never let a man do that before Alastor. “I just want to… accept everything you are willing to give me.”
He bit his bottom lip to redirect some attention away from his now throbbing member, “And when you’re sure on me, I’ll always provide.”
A pout that he kissed, you accepted the terms. An argument could be made you were already very sure, but you were well aware how naive that sounded when you’d known each other for so little time. Had a coworker told you she’d met a guy and within three months was ready for… the consequences, you’d have laughed and asked if she was drunk or just stupid.
Alastor wanted to provide. But he knew you’d be the one with the raw end of the deal, he couldn’t risk coercing a decision in the heat of the moment. If your mind was half was addled as his with pleasure then you were in no state for big decisions.
Life changing decisions.
Decisions that filled empty homes.
Fuck, why wasn’t he a less considerate man?
When his kiss deepened, so did his ministrations. He was fully sheathed and so unwilling to draw back more than a couple inches you wondered if he had changed his mind. It felt like a man not wanting to stray too far from home. One hand on the small of your back, his other other on the back of your neck. When he pulled out he pressed his tongue further, only stopping the kiss when he came onto the little space of table between your thighs. Soft and swollen lips parted as his breaths ran ragged. A smile spread across your face as you watched his eyes open, witnessing a pleasured blow out of his pupils.
When he grabbed a kitchen towel and cleaned the table, you chuckled at his grimace. “See? My way is cleaner.”
He didn’t reply at first, taking the cloth and hovering over the sink before tossing it into his trash. “Only in the short term. We can finish up tomorrow with the tools?”
Your legs kicked again, not ready to slide off, “Mm, it’ll be easier in the daylight.”
“Instead,” he zipped his pants but removed the belt and set it on the counter, “Let’s get zozzled* and sway around the sitting room? Crash where we land.” (*drunk)
“I’ll pour if you get the music on.”
He turned to leave but paused, “No, I’ll handle the drinks. You always have too heavy of a hand.”
“I didn’t hear you complaining last time…”
“I’m not sure I remembered I was at home and not at a drum* last time…,” He uncorked the label-less whiskey, grabbing two glasses with one hand. “Didn’t wanna insult the pretty waitress.” (*speakeasy)
Fair. You weren’t much for drinking and always underestimated the strength of illegal hooch. Some were weak and some could kill you. But fancy Alastor had connections with the kind of people no one dared to risk harm to, so he always had the most trustworthy goods.
Good music, great whiskey, and even better company. You thanked him for being safe while working, he praised your ability to learn new skills so quickly. After a few drinks he pushed the coffee table against the wall and you drunkenly swayed around the room to something playing smooth and low. As much as you enjoyed your conversations, having your head tucked under his chin as neither of you said a word somehow filled in the little cracks of your heart more so than any talk. For him too. No tension after sex, no stress of how long he’d get to breathe before the next instance of prodding to do it again. He could smile and close his eyes and feel the room swing and sway in total safety.
A safety neither of you knew was being threatened from afar.
When you woke, Alastor was gone. A note on the table letting you know he’d run out to grab some things for breakfast. Telling you to relax and recover.
You put the furniture back, bringing the glasses to the kitchen and his belt to the bedroom.
Coffee and a slow perusal of his home. Intimate details you tried to not stare at when he was there. The rare photo of his mother, a woman you didn’t speak about, a conversation you didn’t need to have, but someone you knew existed fondly still in his life. A silent thank you to her.
No photos of a man to give thanks to you so you turned to the little curios and mementos.
Little seashells and sand dollars, a small gator’s skull. Books, about anatomy and history. Novels about crime and love and mystery. Ticket stubs for films he’d seen. Little bits of his mother scattered in. A woman’s necklace. A chatelaine* with all of the accessories and tools. (*wikipedia page)
When you felt you’d spied enough, you crawled into his side of the bed and inhaled as deeply as you could. His pillow smelled like him. You let yourself sleep off the hangover surrounded by pieces of Alastor.
Pieces you couldn’t contain. Pieces left around town as a dick* hunted for his personal monster. (*a detective, but also, a dick, fuck this dude?)
Beth, or Betty as you called her, the friend you often sang for, was cleaning up from the previous night when Brady walked in. She tried to tell him they were closed, but he took a seat at the counter anyway.
“I’m looking for a singer named Autumn. She been around lately?”
She paused, knowing the name was tied to your work. This man didn’t know you. “Whose asking?”
“The city of New Orleans”, he set his badge on the counter top.
“Is she in some kinda trouble?”
“She the kinda dame to get into trouble?”
Beth laughed, “She doesn’t try to but men, liquor, and jazz tend to make it happen. She’s okay, right?”
He took a deep sigh, trying to blink away the exhaustion and remember he needed to be someone strangers trusted. Being honest hadn’t been working and being rough barely got him a lead. “Well I was hoping you’d know. Found out someone roughed her up a bit ago and just wanting to make sure she’s okay. But I don’t have her legal name, no address, nothing to track her down.”
Shaking her head, she leaned onto the counter, “What? Some egg* forget it’s just a show?” Brady shrugged. “I can’t say. She hasn’t been by in a couple weeks.” (*man)
He asked why. Feeling the deadend approaching.
“She was just doing me a favor. Once she got a guy she didn’t have much time.”
Fighting the urge to slam his fists against the wood and sling his notebook across the bar, Brady took slow breaths. Jaw clenched as he grabbed his pencil, “That is wonderful news. Hopefully a fit guy who can… keep her safe.”
Beth laughed a little, “I don’t know about that. He’s kind of a daisy*, but real kind.” (*a non-masculine man)
“Could I get a name? Or her address? Wanna follow up. See for myself that she’s doing well.”
She tapped the bar with two fingers and winked, “Ah no can do. Flatfoot* or not, I don’t tell men where to find sleeping ladies. But her fella is in radio though. I recognized his voice right away. Popular too, really ritzy air about him.” (*cop, detective)
As he left, he slapped the notebook against his palm over and over. When he stopped to take a second to congratulate himself something caught his eye. Across the street was a park he knew well. Following the block and turning, he could see the white and green awning of the cafe he’d seen you at before.
Had he been there? He hadn’t questioned why you were alone on such a nice day. But maybe you weren’t. Maybe you’d been playing him from the start.
Enough games.
When you took the stage that evening, a Friday show with a promising crowd, you felt like solid gold. Alastor would be there to pick you up in a few hours, you had every need met. And now you had the adoration of strangers to pump up your chest.
Until you passed your come-hither eyes over the crowd and a striking ocean blue pair knocked the wind out of you.
James was standing behind Brady, mouthing an apology. You missed a beat in your routine but forced your smile back. It took a second, to slide back into the actress you were when away from Alastor. Every time it got harder and harder to fall back into that role but you managed. His eyes never left your face, and you thanked God your heaving chest could be seen as fatigue and not the sheer panic that had taken ahold of your body.
When you were on the other side of the curtain you considered rushing out the side door, into the alley and down the street. But you couldn’t. You’d successfully brushed him off for so long but now that he had seen you, had made it clear he was there for you, you couldn’t flee. Innocent people don’t hide from cops.
Feet dragging, you saw some of the dancers standing around the dressing room door. “He’s out of his gourd if he thinks I’m changing with him in there.” One said loud enough to ensure Brady heard. When you entered the room he was sitting at your make up table, legs spread and your shoes in his hands.
“There she is!” standing, he extended the shoes to you, “Don’t stare like a deer in the lights. I’m sure you knew I was coming. Slip these on, we’re going for a ride.” He gave them a shake, “You can call your mac* from the station and let him know you’ll be late.” (*man)
˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖
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#human alastor x reader#alastor x reader smut#alastor smut#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor x reader#hazbin x reader#hazbin alastor#alastor#hazbin hotel x you
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ONE LESS LONELY GIRL - 008 ! accidental but pretty intentional
PAIRING idols riki x fem reader
SYNOPSIS fans always point out the chemistry between you and riki, and it only continues to grow after you become mc’s together on music bank. but as your feelings rise, so does the tension. and people begin to notice, so you try not to let riki know how you feel. but unbeknownst to you, he feels entirely the same way.
authors note halfway point! i love this smau w my heart but i rlly wanna start a new one ☹️ this ep tho was so rushed bc i have hella hw uh oh
previous <> masterlist <> next
‘can we talk? meet me at the rooftop garden’
hanni reread out loud, constantly going over the text displayed on your phone as you stared blankly at danielle.
“what am i supposed to do?” you let out a groan, falling down to lay flat on the floor of the practice room.
“finish practice then meet him. duh. easy as that.” hyein replied as if it was the most obvious thing ever.
“yeah, no shit. but i mean, what am i supposed to say to him? we haven’t spoken in over a week since it happened. plus we have music bank tomorrow.” you mumble in response.
“then you have to figure it out before tomorrow.” danielle encouraged as she pulled you up off the floor. she straightened out a few loose strands of your hair, before cupping your cheeks. “come one. one more hour!”
65 minutes had passed, and you found yourself taking the stairs up to the rooftop. when you stepped out onto the concrete, riki was already sitting on a bench, waiting.
“riki?” you softly called out to get his attention. “hey y/n.” he smiled, before gesturing to the spot next to him.
“so.. what’s going on?” you asked, reaching out for his hand. riki gently intertwined your fingers as he turned to face you.
“i’m sorry. for everything. the cafe was my idea. we shouldn’t have gone somewhere public, and now i’ve dragged you into this whole controversy.” he let out all at once, running a hand through his hair.
his face was just as tired as yours, but his eyes remained puffier than ever. you noticed it as you examined his face when you first sat down. the dating scandal had a huge impact. clearly, the feeling was mutual.
“oh, my poor riki..” you pouted. “hey, it’s not your fault. i’m just as involved as you are. none of this is on you. if anything, it’s that barista’s fault for exposing us.” you grimaced as you thought back to her post.
“i guess youre right. yn, you always know how to make me feel better.” he joked, lightly nudging your shoulder.
“guess it’s my specialty. i wish we could go out again though.”
“next time. when you’re officially mine and we can tell the world, that’s when i’ll take you out to a nice restaurant.” riki smiled widely.
“can’t take me out if your laces are untied.” you chuckled, gesturing to his sneakers.
“oh? i didn’t realize. i’ll tie it later.” he waved it off.
the two of you stayed up there for about two more hours, talking and catching up on everything you missed out on before, riki decided it was time to go back.
“let’s go? we can drive back together.” he suggested.
“i think we should go separately, just to be safe, since it’s not over yet. besides, i brought my car, so i cant leave it here.” you replied, feeling slightly guilty.
“yeah, no problem.” riki nodded, but you could tell he was still disappointed.
you stood up, walking towards the stairwell as riki followed from behind. you stepped about 20 paces before you felt yourself crashing down onto the concrete.
riki had ‘tripped’ over his shoelaces, before he ‘accidentally’ fell onto you. you felt him grip onto your waist before you both rolled over onto the floor, which just so happened to end up with his lips on top of yours.
you gently pushed him off with a groan due to the impact from the fall (and the uncomfortable position).
he let out a pathetic apology as you winced once he realized his left elbow was digging into your stomach. there was definitely going to be a bruise. or so you thought. but it was still quite painful.
“sorry.” riki said with a smug look. you squinted at him as you read his expression. he was sorry, for hurting you. not for kissing you.
you stared blankly at him, before standing back up, to grab your fallen belongings. “i’m just.. i have to go.” you muttered, not looking back at him as you hurried down the stairs.
he remained on the floor where you left him, thinking about whether he went too far or not.
TAGLIST (italics = couldnt be tagged) @hannicorpse @luvvhaerin @chaevibes @en-verse @ren2jay @choppedballoondetective @heartheejake @imanalien143 @istglevi-gotmesimping @yndairy @eleanorheartschishiya @lonelylandofan @gweoriz @jaemified @onlyhyunjin @softpia @frecklesbrownies @riksaes @wensurr @rikifordmiami @brideslit @ant-onie @yumilovesloona @aeminju @hoonics @catecita @clampclover @rei4sunoo @addictedtohobi @rikidaze @baekxo07 @xotyla @melancholy-z @rikisgeef @jung1w0n @tocupid @onlyseung @i03jae @iheartshopping @istphanie @queenriki7 @academiq @1117promises @nctislifue @haechansbbg @rairaiblog @nabia-bia @pkjay @lixiebokie @hiekoo @r1kizerr @d-dilemma @kingofthekards @iilwji @hoonatic @woorcve @enhaz1
#enhypen x reader#enhypen#niki smau#niki x reader#enhypen niki#nishimura riki#enhypen imagines#enhypen smau#riki x reader#riki smau#enhypen scenarios
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Midnight
Valkyrae x male reader 1.7k words
It’s kinda obvious. The usual suspects are at the table, some drinking, talking, others eating. You’re not at that table. To be completely fair with yourself and with the circumstance, you were not going to stand any chance if she asked. Rae barely did, to begin with. It was more of a gaze, a hand on your thigh, and a signaling squeeze with her nails. You’re here for nothing else, in any event; that’s what you are to her. You came to terms with that long ago.
And it’s pretty fucking obvious, by the way. People know you two go missing often. Expect it. The fact that her clothes are nothing but pure convenience adds on to the evident scenario. It’s all an excuse: an excuse for a shirt, an excuse for a skirt—why even bother to sew pockets on it anyway—
She’s leading you around a hallway, then up some stairs. It’s all rather lavish for a streamer house. Only the place itself looks grand and expensive, however; there’s a mess just about everywhere. Everyone you know has come and gone, eaten and napped and drank to varying degrees. You were, of course, invited last minute. Quite literally. It’s close to midnight and they had started to gather by dusk. And it’s only when she’s bored, you dare say even a little desperate, that she texts you. Parties like these, anyway, still have a long way to go.
Consider yourself her intermission.
Rae doesn’t bother to get in a room and hide away from accidentally prying eyes. At this point, you try to recall, who hasn’t caught you two yet? It’s a fucked-up thrill to now hope for, admittedly.
She gets a hand under the hem of your shirt, ghosting around you until finding grip by the small of your back. Her nails dig into you like before. The smirk at the corner of her lips indicates she likes that, always has. See, Rae has you pinned against a wall. There’s a part of her that would enjoy being greedy and would like to bide her time, taking every sweet little second to undress, tease, caress. More often than not, however—as is the case today—she leans towards the frantic and frenzied. It’s concept versus practice. All that teasing and flirting on the phone always gets her so worked up that by the end Rae is nothing but a wet, needy mess. She’s ready to get fucked and you always find yourself at her beck and call.
Her breath clashes warm against yours while her other hand toys at your front. As her thumb plays with the elastic waistband of your shorts, she looks down. The bulge is—inevitably, dutifully—visible. Rae gets a playful knee between your legs so that her thigh brushes and incites it further.
There’s a back and forth you play out, somewhat theatrical, and mostly for her entertainment. She starts with some fleeting kiss that’s less of a brush and more of a quick peck-and-smack before pulling back. Light and lascivious. You play it out for the sake of doing so. A you’re late from her makes you respond, simply, by looking at your watch with dramatic intent. Oh, I should apologize? You, a tad defiant (which is, as it happens, unintended, though it works out). She scoffs, of course, and pulls the waistband lower. It’s taut and at that point of no return—between your hips and the rest of your legs—as Rae still keeps those nails on your back sharp and prickling. Yes, you should. Her hand at the front runs cold down your stomach and past the yielding fabric. The base of your cock is warm, stiffening further when her cool touch wraps its commanding grip around you.
There’s not much teasing after that. Again: Rae is needy.
However much control she may have in the circumstance, whatever say in the matter, most of it melts away with little resistance once she crouches down to face your length. With your waistband sitting comfortably around your thighs now, you assist Rae: she’s eager (see also: salivating), causing disarray in her hairstyle as she gathers it all up onto your awaiting palm. You’ve played this game before. Once you have proper grip, her lips part. You enjoy the image for a second too long when her expectant eyes gaze up, imploring. So you bring her in. The slow approach is, really, the crux of all this. She texts you, calls you. Tells you when, where, and how she wants it. But the moment—down to the literal second—when she resigns any and all sense of control, she hands it all to you. All of that authority. All in the grip of her hair.
Yes, you’re the one against the wall, and yes, Rae’s the one with her hands on your thighs, holding on like her life depends on it, but it’s you who’s setting the pace, thrusting slow into her warm, slick mouth. Rae’s lips envelop you in full, down to the base, as her tongue runs circles under your shaft to make further mess of all the dripping spit. Every so often, a gag, accompanied by this light moan with every breath she takes up at the tip. Pulling her away, a trail of spit bridges between you and her lower lip. It falls right on her chin. Rather indecent.
Rae stands, shimmying and hiking the short skirt up her thighs and plump ass. It sits nicely atop her hips, around her waist. “Put it in me, please.”
She’s one to put it in herself, in any case. So you bend your knees, sliding your back down the wall. Rae turns and you align perfectly. Considering the amount of spit, it takes nothing for it to slip in. One clean motion and you’re surrounded by heat; the glide is pure vice.
“Fuck—” You, voiceless.
Whichever bits of hair were previously gathered with your fist fell a tad coiled and intertwined down her back. It really is that simple. On queue—because Rae knows what she’s doing—she flips a strand over her shoulder to join the rest of her frizzed locks. Because you also know what you’re doing, your hands bide their time, knowing how desperate she can get. The way she pushes back on your light thrusts, onto your cock, is her tell.
Your palms land on her plush and rippling ass first. You’re barely fucking up into her as Rae backs onto your hips. When her head drops back a bit—hair draped over this sinful arch of her back—Rae pats your thigh. “What are you waiting for?” Looking back and swaying her hair.
Your hands clutch her ass harder before letting go. The makeshift ponytail that you manage is disheveled and messy, but it gets the job done. “For you to say it,” you admit. With one committed thrust, you sink all the way inside her folds. Covered, wet. The fist around her hair pulls slow, steady, as Rae further arches and bends and keens.
The best part of all of this is how you both have it down to, largely, a routine. All of that teasing hours before while she got ready: photos and texts and short but dangerous clips of everything but her face. Then while you got ready, all because of the expectation and promise. Rae would send a photo with the phone at a dangerously high angle—could see all the way down her tiny top. You’d send something equally incriminating and before you knew it (and you knew), you’d get the call. She isn’t one to invite over text; that’s all just to start. Rae’s one to call simply because, yeah, she gets off on that vocal confirmation—on the sound of your voice falling deep and serious and saying yes, I’ll be there in a few. Implied under all that hush-toned discussion was the obvious rest.
Now, the real best part of all this is how she began taking pills, what, two weeks ago? It’s not something you’re able to pinpoint anymore. You have literally lost count.
Some way, somehow, Rae’s the one against the wall now. Her chest is willingly pressed against it as her open palm fails to find any grip to hold on to the flat surface—at this point and in a different setting it would be the sheets, a pillow. Her other hand works the pads of her fingertips on her warm, sopping wet clit. If it weren’t for the music and noise downstairs, you figure, it would be downright audible.
And she doesn’t have to tell you that she’s cumming. Her fucked-out cunt pulses around the nonstop fucking of your cock. You also catch her free hand, fingers bracing against the solid surface, attempting to divert all of that energy onto something.
Though she does tell you that she’s cumming, anyway. “I’m—fuck—” A sharp inhale, followed by a relieved exhale. “I’m cumming.” Rae tenses up. It’s this high-strung, pent-up shudder that finally finds its path of least resistance—everywhere. Her whole body quivers when you push your length inside of her in full. You feel her fingers shock-still against her nub, pressing tight and firm.
Once she subsides you realize you’re not long for it either. The pull-back out is something of an impossibility; you’re overstimulated at this stage. Your hands have been everywhere: around her waist, grasping at her hips, pulling all of that lush hair. And your eyes just get everything, don’t they? Rae’s face every time she ventures a look back, her now blush-red ass from the constant thrusts, and that desperate, telling hand that let you confirm her inescapable orgasm. There’s certainly more there but your vision turns to haze. You fuck her again and again.
Then you cum.
The thrusting is uninterrupted and messy and delirious. Hot white paints the inside of Rae’s pussy as it likewise escapes out with each and every plunge into it. You’re not even able to state it, let her know it’s coming. You just fuck and fuck and fuck. Incessant. Until your legs just about fail.
~
And they nearly give out while coming down the stairs. You’re shaky and weak. Drained. Rae takes everything—not like you’re unwilling, this has been established. But here you are: the steps lead directly towards the foyer of the compound and she’s showing you the door.
Rae gives you a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“I’m busy all day.” You respond plainly.
“It’ll be late. Late late.”
You nod slow, hands in pockets, turn. “Sounds good.” And walk away.
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Gaang having a crush (bcuz I miss atla) also warning ? Me trying my hardest not to curse in these and making it kid friendly LOL
Aang is kinda obvious, given how young you guys are it makes sense though. It’s definitely his first time having a crush, but he comes to the realization he likes you more than friends rather quickly. After all, he has so many friends, he’d know the difference even if he never liked somebody like that before. While aang is generally speaking a nice guy, I see him doing extra nice gestures for you that he wouldn’t really think of doing for other people. He’s made you a “friendship” bracelet and a necklace as well. Boy or not, there’s nothing wrong with a boy wearing a necklace or bracelet anyway! He blushes around you a lot, this is typically when you are in close proximity to him. And while aang has no problem being physically affectionate around friends, he shy’s away from doing it with you. However, if you’re physically affectionate with him he will very awkwardly reciprocate. His shyness might do him more harm than good if he accidentally hurts your feelings by not being very physically affectionate with you in comparison to the rest of the gaang. Aang is very clumsy around you, and that’s not just falling on his face, he tends to mess up his words around you due to nervousness. However despite his lack of physical affection, he’s a very clingy dude with you and always loves to spend his time with you, and literally laughs at all your jokes no matter how bad they are. In turn, he also always makes jokes and tries to make you laugh literally all the time. Aang is also extremely patient with you, he’d have to be in a very bad mood to ever get angry with you, lol. (The only time I could think of is while aang lost appa, like literally the only time I think he’d be driven to the point of yelling and being angry with you). Even if he was mad at you for other reasons, I can’t see him yelling at you or even being mad for long. He also tends to be very protective, especially if you can’t bend or can’t bend very well. However, because of how caring and overbearing he can be, he may make you feel like you’re weak sometimes. So you two tend to have a lot of conversations about him not being so overly protective when it comes to danger. He can’t help it sometimes, especially when he gets nightmares about you getting hurt. He loves being goofy and dumb around you, and totally tries to impress you with his bending LOL. If there’s something you don’t know or understand, he tries to impress you with his 100 years of knowledge, lol.
Katara can be a bit of a mom when it comes to you at times, only because she worries for you. She’ll be darned if she lets anyone hurt the person she loves the most, she is protecting you through and through. Strong or not, she sees you as somebody worth protecting. She’s not as bad as aang is, but she definitely blushes quite a bit around you. She often tries to get your approval on things, whether that’s taking her side whenever she has an argument with toph or getting your approval on her new clothes. Or perhaps even her hair but .. shrug. She also loves teasing you, kinda like how she teases zuko honestly but she won’t get on your case as much and it’s all in good fun. She’s not funny, but still tries to make you laugh. She may end up embarrassing herself most of the time, but it’s worth it if she gets a little giggle out of you. If you’re a water bender, she’s more than happy to teach you. Probably doesn’t want you learning about blood bending though, so she doesn’t really mention it to you lol. It’s not like she doesn’t trust you, she just can’t imagine somebody she adores doing knowing how to bend in such a frightening way. She keeps you far away from it, as a means to protect you and your innocence. Because boy, she sees you as somebody that could do no wrong. Seriously, it’s kinda annoying to the rest of the gaang if you were ever in the wrong about something because she will defend you to heck and back. Although her crush is obvious, most of the gaang find her crush on you to be sweet (most of the time). She does not tolerate anyone yelling at you, or even being angry at you. She never gets angry at you as well, because again, in her eyes you could do no wrong. Maybeee have a talk with her about the fact you’re not a completely innocent goody two shoes, or not… up to you. Katara is surprisingly forward with you, often going out her way to hug you, to hold your hand, and when you accomplish something amazing, she gives you a kiss on the cheek. You’d have to be really dense to not notice her affections towards you.
Sokka is very obvious, he’s never been the type to hide his feelings so he really doesn’t even bother. However, how he approaches your relationship really depends on how long he’s known you. If you’ve only just met and are starting to become friends he tries to be extremely forward with you about his feelings, and flirts with you. Albeit, very poorly. He’s not as suave as he likes to act like he is. In reality he’s a big dork with a stupid crush. However, if you two have known eachother for years and have been friends for a long period of time, he wouldn’t even know how to approach the situation. Normally, he may try to act cool, like he doesn’t care about you. But in a situation like this, he can’t just do that. It hurts him to even think about pretending not to care about you. He struggles for awhile on how to approach these feelings once they’re realized, but honestly if you’ve been friends for YEARS he’s probably figured it out by now and treats you like always but there’s some slight changes. He’s always been protective but you’ll find that with you it’s to the max, he’s not even this protective of his own sister. Hes even more paranoid around newcomers when you’re apart of the equation. Always says something along the lines of “y/n! Step back! They could be dangerous!” and the others just make fun of him for it lol. He’s always trying to find ways to impress you, with his fighting skills and all. Happy to teach you to ;) but if you’re a bender he finds himself trying extra hard to show you just how cool he can be. He doesn’t blush nearly as much as katara and aang would, but it happens on occasion. This is typically if you said something along the lines of “sokka! Thank you for saving me :))) you’re so strong and amazing and blah blah” or if you were being extremely flirtatious LOL. Low key very clingy and follows you around a lot, but tries to act like he’s just bored and your the best option he has to cure the boredom lol he ain’t as slick as he thinks he is. Is the kinda guy who chooses to always sit next to you, fight alongside you, etc. gets angry whenever there’s a avatar plan and he isn’t with you/separated from you lol. Also suki loves you and thinks you’re great for sokka, if only man’s could just confess already.
Toph is not used to having crushes, she’s never had one. However, that doesn’t mean she’s stupid. She realizes her emotions very well but she does not know what to do with them. She’s not used to having a soft spot for anyone, either. She shows her affection by constantly punching you in the arm. However, if you happen to be very affectionate, she doesn’t pull away. So feel free to grab her hand, hug her, etc. you’ll find she has no qualms with you wanting to be there and helping her, either. Even if it can be a sore subject at times to accept help, wanting to be tough all the time, she appreciates that you don’t see her as a weak blind girl and as a strong person that can take care of herself if needed. She appreciates any reminders you want to help not because you think she’s weak but rather because you care for her. Toph shows she cares, though it’s rare and often is not shown through words. She shows it by protecting you. However she is not overly protective, knowing how bad she feels when people are overly protective of her. She loves to tease you, often being her form of affection. She even likes to train and spar with you. If your often physically affectionate, she expects you to stay that way and may think somethings wrong if you aren’t. In which case, she threatens to beat up whoever wronged you. If it’s not a someone, well, she’s always willing to listen. She’s good at doing that anyway. Because she would be used to your affections she would also start to initiate them. She blushes a bit around you, and you’ll even find she’s brave enough to kiss you on the cheek if you were to save her life or protect her. When toph is sleepy, she likes to lean on you and use you as her head rest. She always likes when you go on about random stuff, and she can just fall asleep to the sound of your voice. She is also kinda obvious sometimes about her crush. Normally, you wouldn’t have any idea, but she has small moments where she makes it obvious. A slip of the tongue gives herself away more often than not. “Nobody cares about my weird toy collection!” “I care… I mean! Psh! Yeah why would anyone care about t something so stupid anyway.” she has her moments.
Zuko is just .. painful. All of the gaang get second hand embarrassment from how awfully obvious he is about his crush. From the constant red cheeks to the nervous stuttering over his words to accidentally fire bending just because he’s so nervous around you.. it’s hard to believe he’s even trying to hide it. He doesn’t even know how obvious he’s being until sokka says something to him about being cooler about you. “Wait.. if you think I’m obvious do you think they know?” “Nah.. they’re totally oblivious.” “Oh… that’s… good…” “what do you mean good?!” but in all seriousness, he acts completely different around you in comparison to everyone else. Even if we’re talking book 1 and 2 zuko, he’s a lot more patient with you (not saying much though cuz boy still has a big temper). He tries really hard to be nice, forced awkward smile and all. He is told that it makes him more … approachable. Though if you’re childhood friends (or have been friends for a long time) he kinda drops that rather quickly. If not though, he tries to actually keep it up. However you’ll find he’s quick to apologize if he blows up on you. Unless it’s in an especially bad mood (by that I mean sadder, rather than madder) but he will come around when he’s feeling better. Gets embarrassed easily around you, like if you tease him his entire face goes red. He just cannot deal lol. Pretty protective, but isn’t overly protective… unless azula is involved because bro will be worse than sokka if she’s involved at all LOL. Is willing to do anything with you, which says a lot. Not a fan typically of “fun” events such as festivals or parties but is willing to go with you without much fuss, he can deal if you’re having a fun time. He gets very jealous though, even when you two aren’t dating. He just doesn’t know how to handle the idea of somebody else liking you, or even worse, you ending up with them. He doesn’t handle jealousy very well, very willing to fight the individual as a means to “protect” you, or whatever excuse he can come up with. Out of all of the gaang, he’s the least ready the confess his feelings. He fears rejection, he fears ruining what you two have together.
Suki doesn’t like to mess around, no bulls, so she’s very bold and very open about the fact she likes you. It’s up to you to take your relationship to the next level if that’s what you desire. She does not hesitate to kiss you on the cheek before a tough battle, a battle she isn’t sure she’d come back from, or one she isn’t sure you’d come back from. If you asked, she’d tell you “it’s cause I like you, silly.” It’s up to you to take it further with her if it’s what you desire. However; she has no qualms with you wanting to be friends for awhile first before anything else. She understands that sometimes people need more time and more trust before building a proper relationship. As a result, suki is very understanding of you as well as your boundaries and never holds these things against you and furthermore doesn’t take this as something she should feel bad about either. For the most part, even she can’t help insecurities. So long as you have good communication, she will not feel as though she’s gross or not good enough for you or something along the lines. She may help you train, if your not a good fighter and just need to learn some basics. She doesn’t mind being the one to protect you, but she’d like you to know how to at least defend yourself even if it’s the bare minimum. She knows fighting helps with her self confidence so she wants you to be able to have that for yourself too. Though I will say, she already treats you like her s/o, even if you aren’t a couple. What can I say? She’s just straight forward and doesn’t like to play around. Suki is very trusting of you, so I can’t say that even when you two do start dating she’s the jealous type, but she can be protective. She likes being the one to keep you safe. She loves to tease and poke fun at you a lot, in a purely affectionate way. You’ll also find she thinks the world of you and finds you, no matter what, to be endearing and special to her. For a strong Kyoshi warrior she has quite the soft spot for you and treats you like an angel from the heavens. She likes grabbing your hand a lot in random moments, almost like a sign to other people that maybeeeee are interested in you, that you’re taken. She may flirt with you from time to time, and it’s rare but you can make her blush:0 all you have to do is beat her in a training match, or be very forward with her and flirt. However it will only work if you’re not normally forward, lol.
#zuko x reader#sokka x reader#aang x reader#toph x reader#katara x reader#suki x reader#atla x reader#avatar the last airbender x reader
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 (𝐈𝐌)𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓.𝐈𝐈 ✦ 𝐂𝐋¹⁶
SUMMARY: Charles Leclerc, a Formula 1 star, faces the decline of his reputation after breaking up with art curator Alexandra Saint Mleux. Under pressure from his team, he is forced into a fake relationship with one of the most popular influencers of the moment. NOTES: English is not my first language, so there might be some writing mistakes. I apologize for that, and feel free to point out any improvements. WC: 1.9k WARNING: teasing, fake relationship
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The next morning, Charles was already regretting it. Or maybe just annoyed. Or both. He hadn’t decided yet. The truth was, the plan had started before he was even awake.
“Did you like her photo?” Lorenzo asked, barging into the room without knocking.
“Good morning to you too,” Charles replied, throwing a pillow at his brother.
“Charles, I’m serious. Did you?”
“Which photo? She posts like fifty a day.”
Lorenzo sighed and handed his phone to his brother. On the screen, Y/N’s latest post glowed—a seemingly casual photo but so flawlessly composed it was impossible not to notice the meticulous planning behind it.
“Liked it yet?” Lorenzo pressed, pointing at the heart button.
Charles mumbled something unintelligible but tapped the button anyway.
“There. Done. Now let me sleep.”
But it wasn’t done. The second his like went live, the internet worked its obsessive magic. Gossip accounts picked up on the move almost immediately. “Charles Leclerc likes Y/N’s photo. Coincidence or something more?”
Meanwhile, across the city, Y/N was sitting in a chic café, laughing quietly as her phone blew up with notifications.
“They’re fast, huh?” she commented to her best friend, Clara, who was rolling her eyes as she stirred her cappuccino.
“Are you actually enjoying this?” Clara asked, sounding a little skeptical.
“It’s not about enjoying it. It’s a job.” Y/N shrugged, though the smirk on her lips said otherwise.
Charles was never a fan of hosting dinners at home. He was more of a fine-dining restaurant kind of guy—or, when no one was looking, fast food in his car. But tonight, his apartment had turned into Sofia’s mission control.
He opened the door still in sweatpants, his hair a mess, and looking just a little tired.
“You look like a teenager,” was the first thing Y/N said as she walked in, holding a bag of desserts.
“And you always look ready for a runway,” he shot back, taking in her flawless outfit: skinny jeans, a white cropped tee, and sneakers—casual but calculated.
“Thanks. I practice.”
She waltzed in, ditching her shoes near the door and taking in the space. His apartment was minimalist but not soulless. Trophies were scattered across a shelf, abstract art he clearly didn’t choose hung on the walls, and a big couch dominated the living room, probably the epicenter of his social life.
“Do you actually live here? I expected it to be… messier,” she remarked, flopping onto the couch.
“If it were messier, you’d complain. If it were tidier, you’d say it’s fake. So, please, tell me the exact level of chaos that would make you happy.”
“You’re starting to figure me out,” she said with a laugh.
The dinner, as it turned out, was delivery that took so long to arrive they were already brainstorming the next steps of the plan before eating. Y/N sat cross-legged on the floor, her laptop open and notes scattered across the coffee table.
“Okay, we need something for the first public appearance. Nothing too obvious, but not so subtle that people miss the point.”
Charles, slouched on the couch, watched as she spoke, distracted by the businesslike tone she used.
“Do you talk this seriously all the time, or is it just when you’re in work mode?” he asked, resting his chin on his hand.
“This is serious, Leclerc,” she replied without looking up. “If you want to salvage your reputation, you’re going to have to trust me.”
He sighed, knowing she was right.
“Our first appearance could be next week, just before the Monaco race weekend. We could stroll around the streets in your car or stop at a café,” she suggested. “It’ll look casual, but everyone will notice.”
“What if we just let the rumors do their thing?” he tried.
“Because that would be too easy for you.” Y/N finally looked up. “You need to give people a reason to believe this story. And I’m very convincing.”
At that moment, the delivery arrived. Charles went to grab it while Y/N rearranged the table to make it look casually perfect.
“Let’s start small,” she said, stretching her arm out to snap a photo. He watched as she worked, following her directions like a puppet.
“This will drive people crazy,” she commented, showing him the image before posting it.
The picture showed Charles’s hand holding a wine glass and part of his torso. On the table between them sat two pizzas.
Charles rolled his eyes. “You’re good at this, I’ll admit.”
“Not just good—excellent,” she corrected.
As they ate, the tension between them grew more noticeable. While they discussed details like when she’d start appearing in the paddock, the teasing didn’t stop.
“Do you think people will actually believe I fell for you?” he asked, smirking.
“If I can pretend to find you interesting, people can believe anything,” she shot back, taking a bite of pizza.
He laughed. “Interesting? I thought you were having fun.”
“I’m a great actress,” she said, giving him a playful wink.
“Now we need more pictures,” Y/N said after a while, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Something a bit more… intimate.”
“More?” Charles sighed, clearly exhausted. “Wasn’t that last one enough?”
“Of course not! People need to believe we’re in love. Think of something subtle: holding hands, your hand on my thigh… something like that.”
Charles raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile immediately forming on his lips. “For someone who made the ‘no touching’ rule, you seem pretty eager for this. Trying to relive that night at the club?”
The comment was bold, but Y/N didn’t even blink. She simply stared at him for a moment, her calm almost irritating, before replying, “What night, Leclerc? You must be confusing me with one of your dreams.”
He chuckled, but there was something about the way she brushed off the topic that left him unsettled. After all, she had walked out that night without a word, pretending like nothing had happened. And it still nagged at him.
Unbothered, Y/N stood up and moved to the couch behind them, sitting like someone who knew exactly what they were doing.
“Come here. You need to sit next to me,” she ordered, patting the spot beside her on the couch.
Charles raised an eyebrow but stood up, following her instructions without protest. “What do I need to do now, boss?”
Y/N firmly took his hand and placed it on her thigh. With her other hand, she adjusted her phone’s camera.
“You just need to sit still,” she said, winking at him before snapping the picture. “Look, it turned out so cute!”
She showed him the result, a satisfied smile lighting up her face.
He glanced at the photo, then back at her. “You seem pretty excited about this. I’m starting to think I’m not the only one dreaming here.”
Y/N let out a small laugh, ignoring his comment as she went back to adjusting the photo’s filter. But Charles couldn’t help but notice: as much as she tried to stay in control, there was something in her eyes that hinted she might be enjoying this more than she let on.
Later, as they cleared the empty plates and went over the plan’s timeline, their eyes met. For a moment, silence filled the room. It wasn’t awkward, but it was heavy with something neither of them wanted to acknowledge.
“Well, this was… productive,” Y/N said, breaking the tension as she stood up to grab her bag.
“‘Productive’ is one way to put it,” he replied, following her to the door.
Once she left, Charles collapsed onto the couch and grabbed his phone. The picture she had just posted was already blowing up with comments. He liked it quietly before tossing the phone onto the table.
At the media day press conference, Charles had already memorized the answers Sofia had prepared for him. When someone asked about his personal life, he replied with a cryptic smile:
“I’ve been spending more time at home, enjoying it with people I like.”
Meanwhile, Y/N was doing her part. During an Instagram live, someone asked,
“Do you like Formula 1?”
She smiled, as if she knew exactly what she was doing.
“I didn’t think I did, but lately… I’ve been watching it more.”
tαglıst: @charlesgirl16 @sltwins
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