#fics n stuff

[relic-seeker]

chapter 9..... also peep the new blog name i found out it was unused & went feral over it lawl!

story progress is coming along alright & i didn't realise how fun it was to write a slowburn till now. absolute torture for readers but it's amazing as an author. i only take slowburns or established relationships please! /lighthearted

[queerdraws]

Fanart for a snippet of my most favorite heartbreaking moment from swordsmans's fic bone-breaker ospreys mate for life (rated E)

[maxivstappen]

DID YOU LIKE HER IN THE MORNING ?

[ masterlist / requests closed ]

☽｡⋆ distance can lead to stupid, reckless decisions. but lando knows better than that, right? — lando norris x reader based on “did you like her in the morning” by nikki

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 angst! pure angst 𝄞 1.7k words

You loved a loud life just the same as he did. You enjoyed the traveling, the partying, the sleepless nights, hell, even the stressful nights you wouldn’t trade for a peaceful, quiet, boring, normal life. You were eternally grateful for having a job surrounding the same tracks Lando is driving on, even if that was rather a lucky coincidence instead of a thought-through plan.

You loved it not only because it meant you’d get to be close to your boyfriend most of the time, more so because you got to experience the loudness with him. The parties, the race weekends, just everything. You’d have it without him too, and no doubt, you would have tons of fun doing so, but of course it’s better with a “super cool hot famous boyfriend” by your side, as he liked to call himself.

You loved it, until you couldn’t anymore.

Not as dramatic as it sounds. You were invited to a wedding of an old friend back at home, and Lando, for obvious reasons, couldn’t attend with you, so you flew out the country by yourself, giving Lando one last good luck kiss a few days before the Las Vegas Grand Prix. You missed him dearly, but you also missed your friends at home whom you haven’t seen in what felt like forever, and really, what’s a better reason for a reunion than a wedding?

But that’s where the trouble began.

You liked to call yourself independent. Very independent, even. You didn’t have a problem with being far from Lando for a few weeks, and while you of course loved him more than anyone else in this world, you’ve stated before that in case of you losing the job for whatever reason or if you just couldn’t travel with him anymore, you’d think a long distance relationship would work just well. At least for you.

Of course, the constant missing your partner would complicate things, but that’s still no reason to break up a relationship that has lasted for longer than three years already. At least that’s what you thought.

Lando liked to call himself independent too. Very independent, even. Too bad it’s all a lie.

Lando has always hated the idea of being away from you, or rather the idea of you being far from him. It’s not like he didn’t have any trust in you, it’s just become normal for him to always have you at least somewhat in his reach. That’s how your relationship has always been, you were coworkers before you were lovers.

He didn’t mind you taking a few days off. He also didn’t mind you wanting to spend some time with your family and friends who were still located far, far away from wherever you two would usually have to travel to for the many races. However, he did mind you not being near him.

It bothered him more than he’d like to admit.

You’ve talked about it before, talked about him being too needy and too possessive from time to time, but never once have you two fought about it. You thought you never would, and you were right. Your departure was slightly painful for the both of you, but it was only 2 weeks that you‘d be gone, and it’s not at all like you couldn’t stay in contact. So there was nothing to worry about, right?

Or so you thought.

The moment you arrived at you local airport you saw your mom run up to you, caging you in her arms as if to never let you go again. Your father wasn’t far behind, and then came your brother. It was a sweet little moment of a family reuniting as a whole again. And even though you wanted to set your whole focus on the few next days to come, the lovely wedding and the friends you once lost on the way who you’d now finally see again, Lando never really left your mind. You just didn’t understand why, you weren’t usually like this.

Maybe it was just that after five years of knowing each other and three of those spent dating, you did grow somewhat dependent. you knew it wasn’t the truth, but blaming it on a simple thing like that seemed terribly easier than giving in to the thoughts of what could actually be the cause of it. You didn’t have any time for that. You weren’t here to think about work or about Lando, but about the things that were right in front of your eyes, which at this moment was the beautiful white wedding decorated with all sorts of flowers of sunset hues.

The wedding was held on a beach, surrounded by the dreamy sound of waves crashing and seagulls singing their own nupital melodies. You arrived with one of your old friends Nina, both of you wearing long and flowy pastel dresses, just as the dress code ordered you to. The day went on with you two crying at seeing one of your childhood friends getting married, listening to the heartfelt vows of bride and groom.

Your mind immediately went to Lando and you standing at the altar like they did. You knew it was too soon, and you knew he didn’t have time for marriage, even less for planning a wedding, but you still couldn’t help it. You really did miss him more this time, and throughout the whole ceremony, the feeling of something being incredibly off only intensed.

But the night came, and the feeling faded. Or at least the drinks made it do that.

You were sitting with Nina and two guys you used to be very close with at the dim bar near the dance floor when you suddenly noticed something light up inside your purse. You didn’t mind it at first, not wanting to be rude towards Tom who was trying to talk to you without stumbling over his word completely, but the shots you downed beforehand made it undoubtedly harder.

Your phone lit up again. Slowly getting on your nerves, you decided to wait until Tom’s attention was fixated on Nina again to then check your messages and - missed calls?

—

Lando hated how his mood changed whenever you were gone. It felt as if there was something missing when you weren’t there waiting for him at home after debriefing or after PR events and whatnot. He missed your hugs and kisses, your smile and most importantly, just your touch.

Truth be told - but never to you - when you first started dating, for Lando, the thriving point was attraction. One month in, that’s when he realized that he wasn’t getting rid of you any time soon. Not that he minded. Two months in and the two of you made it official, of course not without any drama because how was a McLaren driver allowed to date a McLaren employee? Two weeks and the conversations and the hate online slowly died down, but your relationship kept on blooming. There was just one thing that somehow had Lando incredibly confused - why did your relationship suddenly feel more like you couldn’t get rid of him? Why did it feel like he was the one attached to you instead of the other way around?

Not that it felt bad or anything, he was just very used to have the girl being that dependent on him, to always want his attention, to always ask for his opinion on everything. Now he was the one all over you, and you didn’t mind it at all. You had the man you love wrapped tightly around your finger, just like he had you. For three years now.

But that didn’t help him right now, not with jealousy nagging at his side like a demon. You were out, enjoying your time with people you loved, and while he should be happy for you, he spent his time rather annoyed at you not being where he was. It’s only been a week, and work has already failed to keep his mind off of you. And he hated it. He knew it was the day of the wedding, and he was done wasting his time only thinking about you, so what else was there for a man to do instead of going clubbing with the guys? He hadn’t spent time with them in a long time, neither had he gone clubbing these past fem months, too caught up with Formula 1. So this would be okay, right? Just some drinks to keep his mind off of you.

Right?

—

15 missed calls from carlos sainz.

that was weird, you thought, and your stomach dropped and you felt the dread creeping up your consciousness. It had you feeling weaker than ever.

You quietly excused yourself to go to the bathroom, though every step towards it made it harder and harder to breathe.

What if something had happened to him? A work incident? Then how did Carlos know? Were they hanging out and he hurt himself? Were they out and someone there hurt Lando?

Did something happen to your Lando?

Your finger hovered shaking over the green button until you finally decided to press it and call the Ferrari driver back. Not even a single beep was heard before he huffed out your name as if he had been yearning for you to finally phone him back.

“Carlos? Is everything okay?” The Spaniard could practically feel your distress through the screen and he swore he’s never felt an urge so strong to punch someone right across their face, let alone his best friend Lando Norris.

It took some time for realization to set in. Your breathing had slowed down but the chills all over your body told that it was a sign far from good. Very far from good.

You could still make out the faint sound of Carlos’ voice as you locked the door of the bathroom stall furthest in the back, however, every word that came after “Lando cheated on you” somehow wasn’t comprehensive to you.

You just hope he’ll still like her in the morning, cause you, for sure, weren’t coming back.

[cute-sucker]

smile for the camera

˚❀༉‧₊˚

rafe called you his prized trophy, and you didn't mind it. you trotted in your tight skirts, black card and tiny heels. it was a ritual, something calming. you needed a label, something to stand by.

something that branded you to be his. but you didn't mind his demands, sometimes you were sweet about it. sometimes you let things go wild, but you knew he would take care of you. that was the important thing. that was what you needed most of all/  

there was something about him that made you feel protected. and he liked that you let him do that. you fueled his male insecurities of having to be a strong, strong man, because of how desperately you needed someone like that.

you used to be a pageant queen, a girl who had gems stuck to her forehead, makeup drowning her face, teeth bleached white, and the constant need to be loved. one of your vivid memories was getting dragged to get your hair done, your mother screeching about how needy you were. the whole appointment you cried your eyes out, arms flailing out, whispering questions.

"do you love me mommy?"

and she would pull you up, her lipstick clashing againts her leopard orange jumpsuit. you could already hear the insult, and braced yourself.

"would someone love their cash cow?" then she paused watching your expression. you were five. you didn't know what that meant, but you could feel yourself being inspected like an insect, and then finally when you cowered your gaze to the floor, she hummed with contempt.

"no. now, shut up" then her harsh hand would graze against your chin to fix your hair. you whimpered, hands aching to take out your outfit. the rest of the memory was too painful to remember.

but those days were gone. rafe had caught your eye the first time you worked at the country club. you lacked the vanity or the items that would attract someone who had money, but there was something about your smile.

you were dazzling no matter what, and that was when rafe had seen you. you had gone to the bathroom before to serve him, and came back with pink glossy lips and doe eyes that showed him that you were innocent. you needed protection. you needed someone to give you the firm hand, and then kiss you with forgiveness.  

so there it was. within weeks he would only call you to serve him, and you would do so quickly, the same smile plastered on your face, and finally as if he was pissed he pulled you down. your mom had always told you that the one thing she liked about you was your winning smile. but, something was wrong.

"nah, i don't like that."

you snapped to look at him, your fake smile wavering for a moment, "what's the problem, mr. cameron?"

sometimes that would earn a chuckle out of him, and you could tell the way he was sitting that he liked it but - but there was something wrong, and suddenly he was pulling you down to sit with him. you felt shocked seeing him so close. you could smell his breath, and you felt your heart drum faster.

"get that-" he pointed to your face, "-fucking fake smile outta here. if you wanna make me happy? give me a real smile."

and that was it, and then he grunted almost pushing you up. you sniffled, and then got up, hands reaching to fix your skirt and then hurried out to the backdoor. no one called back for you, and it was almost as if his words echoed all the way home as you caught the bus.

you spent hours crying over that moment. as you got home you rushed to the bathroom. your disgusting apartment smellt of cockroaches, and burnt food, and you sat there in your sink. you smiled. stopped. smiled. stopped. smiled. it hurt the way the cracks of your smile etched into your mouth.

what was wrong with it?

for god sakes what was he talking about?

x

those days were now long gone. no longer did you wait tables, or go back to your crappy apartment that made you feel gross. instead you slept in a warm bed in tanyhill waking up to rafe's firm hands on your body. you snuggled closer to him, placing your hands on his chest.

"hey?" he murmered, head buried in the fluff of his pillow. you giggled at his strange expression, and he quickly stuck his head out, eyes squinted, "what's wrong?"

you sighed, "nothing rafey. i-"

he looked at you again, a pointed look on his face, "spit it out."

you bit your lip, your voice a whisper when you asked your question. you had always been told to never ask questions unless you wanted the backhand, but rafe waited patiently.

"um," you sputtered out, "um, you remember that day when you came into the country club and i was serving-"

he hummed appreciatively, "yeah you were so hot, goddamn-"

at this you giggled again, before placing your hand on his mouth, "gotta shut up for a second-" and then you bit your lip before tilting your head, "remember that day when you told me to stop smiling, or something like you didn't like my smile?"

rafe seemed to furrow his eyebrows, "no, baby, i don't really remember that," he muttered out, and you felt your heart prick.

your eyes watered the way they always did, as your throat clogged up, "i was wondering what you meant by that?"

he sighed finally, looking at you. you looked so small in your pink nightgown, lip stuck out as you seemed to clench your fists to the sides of your body. you watched him carefully, hoping that something - some emotions would show on his face.

he sighed again, before reaching out for you, "baby, come here. you seem so far away," he said soflty, pulling you closer until you were in his lap. he held you close, his words humming a sweet vibration through your body. you felt safe, you felt at home.

you felt your breathing calm, as you listened to his steady beat. his hand moved up and down your back.

"listen," he began, his voice a low rumble, "when I said that, i didn't mean I didn't like your smile. i just meant i wanted to see the real you. not some fake, plastered-on smile you thought i wanted to see."

you sniffled, tears brimming in your eyes, but you felt a small flicker of relief. "but why didn't you just say that?" you whimpered, your voice small and vulnerable.

he tilted your chin up, making you look into his eyes. "i was a dickhead, and you seemed like a sweet girl. i wanted to know you as that sweet girl"

you blinked, a tear slipping down your cheek. he make a soft sound of protest as he wiped the tear away with his coarse thumb, touch tender

"you mean that?" you whispered, your voice barely audible. you felt shy now, folding into your self, as rafe smiled against your skin.

"of course, i mean it," he replied firmly. "y'think i'd lie about something like that?"

finally he pulled you up to give you a firm kiss, "my princess."

you buried your face in his chest, letting his words sink in. the weight of the past seemed to lift, if only a little, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest. "thank you, rafe," you murmured against his skin.

he held you tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "no need to thank me, baby."

for the first time in a long time, you felt a genuine smile tug at your lips.

[kiisaes]

aaauuuggghhhhhhhh

[nuzipilled]

One cannot define grief as a solid entity; It shifts and changes like the tide, rising and falling, waxing and waning. Its unexpectedness rips off a layer of one's life like a band-aid, and an exposed underbelly is never pretty. J is no exception.

the final chapter of requiem is finished.

[sun-kissy]

hi baby!! for your christmas sleepover can i request the 🧸 with poly!marauders and prompt try to eat please!! thank you so much love bug!!

thank you for the request, my lilypad! hope you like your teddy bear, love you loads 🧸💛

muffin | poly!marauders

— “Try to eat.”

poly!marauders x reader

summary: you feel sick because you haven’t eaten in a bit. your boyfriends take perfect care of you.

tw: nausea, implied ed recovery, just a whole lot of hurt/comfort, our boys are angels fr <3

“Sweetheart,” Sirius coos worriedly as soon as he’s within sight, clearly tipsy as he stumbles towards you and Remus. James follows close behind, one hand on his boyfriend’s back and a pinch between his eyebrows.

You’re crouched on the cold floor of the bathroom, Remus right beside you with his hand on the small of your back. Everything looked like nothing but blurry dots, fading in and out of your vision. You can faintly make out the silhouette of one of your boyfriends flushing your sick down the toilet.

Mary and Lily were throwing a Christmas party at their new place. You and your boyfriends had been here for a couple of hours, Sirius going straight to the food table while James was immediately dragged away by a couple of old pals from the team back in school.

You could see Marlene beckoning to you across the room from the corner of your eye, but opted to stay next to Remus instead. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to spend time with your friends, you really did miss them. You just felt really, really sick. It had started as a quiet upheaval in your stomach on the way here, but then started to feel like a full-on tornado. It was as though someone was slamming a hammer against your temple, the metallic taste of bile quickly rising up your throat.

You knew you probably looked worse than you felt. Your hair clinged to the sweat on your forehead, breaths coming out in small, painful huffs. Even your makeup felt smudged, mascara mixing with the perspiration and further adding to the irritation on your skin. It was obvious that Remus had noticed. He asked you if you were okay a couple of times, and you waved him off. His instincts told him to stay right next to you. He was glad he did, because less than a half hour later, you had your hands pressed tightly over your mouth as you gagged, wide-eyed and panicked.

Now you were sat pathetically on the marble tiles of the bathroom, tear-streaked cheeks and burning throat. Sensing your need for space, Remus had resorted to rubbing his thumb over the curve of your ankle while you leaned against the wall opposite. He had quickly texted James about the situation, who gathered up Sirius, in all his inebriated glory, before rushing into the bathroom.

You feel a hand wrapping around the nape of your neck, some things cold and metallic, though not unpleasant, digging into your skin. Sirius’ rings. The same sensation hits you someplace on your hips as you’re steered into another person’s arms. Your back falls snug onto a hard wall of a chest, gentle arms wrapping around your waist.

“Baby? Can you hear me?” James’ voice is soft near the shell of your ear, hands loving where they rub the fat of your stomach. You blink a couple times, vision still hazy but clear enough to pick up on your surroundings. The buzzing in your ears seemed to quieten at your boyfriend’s murmured words.

Your voice comes out as a quiet croak. “Yeah.”

Remus’ hand stills on your ankle, knowing you’d feel overstimulated by the sensation of two people touching your skin in different places. It’s no matter, though, because Sirius is quick to take your hands in his and squeeze them. He looks dangerously close to tears from where he’s kneeling in front of you.

“Are you okay? Do you feel better?”

You clear your throat, trying to muster a weak smile for his sake. “I –”

“What happened? Why did you feel sick? Did you –”

“Siri,” Remus is quick to take initiative, wrapping his arm around Sirius’ shoulder and gently pulling his boyfriend against him. “Relax. She’s okay,” he murmurs, unclear whether he’s trying to reassure Sirius or himself.

The long-haired boy frowns, but doesn’t say much else. Satisfied, Remus turns his attention back to you, eyebrows bunching up concernedly. “Do you feel better, lovely?”

You nod, and it’s a little more convincing than the smile you just tried to flash them. You feel yourself sinking more and more into James’ embrace, the feeling of his thumbs on your stomach distracting you from the searing pain in your gut.

James and Remus share a look. “Dove,” Remus starts softly. You meet his gaze curiously. He reaches out to wipe the tears off of your cheeks, palm settling on the dip of your chin. “You haven’t been eating enough.”

You sigh exasperatedly, opening your mouth to brush it off like you always do. But you’re cut off by James, tone slightly harsh though his touch remains gentle. “He’s right, angel. You’ve been skipping meals these past few weeks.”

“Yeah, and… and when you do eat,” Sirius pipes up, eyes narrowing like it’s taking him tons of effort to form a coherent sentence. It probably was, given the alcohol in his system. “You barely touch your food. You nibble on it, like… like um, a mouse.”

“Guys,” you speak up, feeling their eyes trained on you. Your breathing starts to pick up speed, and you try to ignore the anxiety slushing around in the pit of your stomach. “I’m fine, okay? I eat enough, and I didn’t puke because of that —“

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” James murmurs from behind you. You expect a telling off, maybe even a fight — but there’s nothing but sadness and worry in his voice.

You swallow, feeling your eyes start to sting again. “I’m not doing it on purpose, I swear. I’m trying,” your voice turns shaky as you lock eyes with Remus. He softens, moving forward slightly to take one of your hands in both of his. “We know you are, sweet girl. It’s not your fault.”

“Yeah,” James adds quietly, dotting a kiss into your hair. “You were doing so well. You still are. Just let us help you, okay?”

You nod, and almost don’t notice Sirius clumsily pulling himself up and staggering out the bathroom. Remus frowns, turning around and calling out to him, only to receive silence in response. He sighs and turns back to you, continuing to thumb at your palm comfortingly.

The three of you sit in comfortable silence for a bit, the only sound being that of soft kisses as James presses his lips to different parts of your cheek. His hands move sideways from your stomach, coming to rest against the curve of your hips. He feels the empty space between your skin and jeans — jeans which fit you snugly just a month ago. He says nothing, but you feel the disappointment radiating off him and seeping into your skin.

That’s when Sirius bursts in through the door, causing all three of you to glance up startledly. He marches towards you with a hint of determination in his eyes, sitting back down in front of you. He takes one look at you, and everything hard about his expression melts into softness.

“Here,” he mumbles, holding a muffin out to you like a child would. “Try to eat.”

You don’t miss the hint of adoration in Remus’ gaze as he smiles at his boyfriend, then at you encouragingly. “Go on,” James says softly, hands resuming their movement on your stomach.

Letting out a shaky exhale, you reach forward and take the muffin with a quiet murmur of thanks. You swallow and stare at the muffin. It glares back with hostility.

Sirius starts to babble, like he always does when he doesn’t know what else to do. Only this time, he knew exactly what he was doing. He tells you about this weird girl at work who tried to flirt with him.

Between the animated storytelling, Remus’ soft smiles and James’ touches, you find yourself quietly biting into the muffin. You still didn’t feel like you deserved to eat. But you did feel safe. And you wanted to try, for them.

You even let out a laugh when Sirius mentioned the girl’s disgust at finding out about you guys, making him grin. It takes a while, but you finish the muffin. Your boyfriends tell you just how proud they are. You believe them.

san’s christmas sleepover

[motherismotheringggg]

rhythm & heat

summary: you and nicholas are co-stars in a fun and innocent PR relationship, the chemistry was already there so it just feels natural but something shifts when you, him and cast go out.

type: fem! reader x nicholas (i tried add some of Nicholas’ POV per my friend’s suggestion, it’ll be in red to stand out)

tags/warnings: 18+, fingering, oral (m! receiving), unprotected sex (wrap your willy yall) and creampie

author’s note: i’m having sooooo much fun writing again so thanks to everyone who’s been encouraging me to do it. i used to write in college and now that im 27 (almost 28 in january) it’s good to get back into it. i wanted to do something while im working on slow burn pt. 3 so i hope yall like it!!!!

🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩

The bass pulsed through the club, sending ripples of heat and sound through the packed dance floor. Neon lights flickered overhead, casting an electric glow over the scene as bodies moved in sync with the music. The air was thick with anticipation, the kind that made everyone buzz with energy, like something wild could happen at any moment.

You and your co-star, Nicholas Chavez, were out celebrating the wrap of the second season—a well-deserved break after months of filming. The first season had been a hit, with fans and critics alike praising your performances and the chemistry you brought to your characters. And of course, that chemistry hadn’t gone unnoticed. Rumors about the two of you had been swirling since the first season, with fans speculating about what might be going on off-camera.

And they weren’t completely off. Your and Nicholas’s teams had decided that hinting at a romance would be the perfect, harmless way to build buzz for the next season. You weren’t usually one for gimmicks, but you both thought it’d be fun, and honestly, with the chemistry you two shared on screen, the idea didn’t feel far-fetched. Playing at “dating” off-screen just felt natural.

There were moments on set where the boundary between acting and reality seemed to blur. In one particularly intense scene, you and Nicholas’s character finished having sex and his hands roamed in a way that made sense for the character but caught you off guard, you leaned in to commit to the scene but you remember leaving the set that day with your heart fluttering.

Off set, at interviews and press events, the playful banter you shared made the rumors almost impossible to deny. During one red carpet appearance, when a reporter asked what Nicholas liked best about working with you, he leaned close and, in a low voice, said, “She makes me forget we’re acting.” The reporters loved it, and you could feel your cheeks warm under the spotlight.

Even your off-duty moments seemed to fuel the rumors. You remembered the night you and Nicholas went to see Sabrina Carpenter in concert and to avoid the crowds, you were escorted through hidden elevators in the arena. One of the elevators was especially small, so when you were pushed inside with security guards and crew, space was tight. Somehow, you ended up in the back corner, pressed chest to chest with Nicholas, his arm slipping around your waist to pull you closer.

When you joked about it later, he laughed, claiming he was just “making room” for everyone. But you couldn’t ignore the way his hand lingered at your waist during the two-minute ride—or how, when you shifted to get more comfortable, you felt his hardness through his jeans.

There were countless other moments and with another press run coming up, it just felt like you were still both “in character” all the time but for tonight, you just wanted to dance, let loose, and get ready for another thrilling media cycle. You, Nicholas and a few costars decided to go out to a boiler room club in the city. None of you had planned on playing into the rumors tonight, but as the crowd grew, Nicholas slipped into “boyfriend” mode without a second thought. His hand found your waist, guiding you through the crowd; he held your hand, lingered close, and let his touches drift to intimate places whenever you danced or laughed together.

The night felt electric. Drinks flowed freely, adding a warm edge to the pulsing bass that reverberated through the walls and floor. Your group had claimed a private section overlooking the dance floor, with a perfect view of the swirling neon lights below. Fans would catch glimpses of you and the cast, looking up with wide smiles, waving, and cheering to show their love. Some even made heart shapes with their hands or mouthed “We love you” as they danced. Every now and then, Nicholas would slide his arm around your waist, pulling you close for a quick fan photo or to lean in as he spoke over the music, his breath grazing your ear.

Nicholas could hardly keep his eyes off you. Even in the chaos of the club, you stood out—like a spark in the dark, drawing him in. The energy around you, the way you moved, the way you threw back your head to laugh at something your friend said… it made his chest feel tight. He’d been watching you for a while now, unable to shake the feeling that tonight was different.

At first, it was all casual, harmless fun. But as the night wore on and the drinks kept coming, you couldn’t help but notice a shift. Nicholas’s touches lingered a little longer, his fingers resting at your waist even when the picture was done or the conversation had shifted. The way he looked at you changed too—his gaze softened, his words slower, and his attention focused entirely on you, despite the crowd around you both.

When the group began to dance, he stayed close, his hand brushing yours, fingers grazing along your arm, almost as if testing the waters. As the music thumped, he moved nearer, his chest pressing lightly against your back, his hand slipping down to rest at your hip. Every touch, every shared laugh, felt charged, and you could feel the tension building in each small gesture. You’d been close to him before, but this was different—the alcohol, the music, the night itself seemed to bring out something more raw.

His thoughts became a blur of want, fueled by the subtle way your lips parted as you looked up at him. The pull was irresistible, drawing him closer as he traced his fingers along the small of your back, letting his thumb graze your hip in a possessive but tender gesture. He was intoxicated, not just by the alcohol but by you, by the way you felt so effortlessly right in his arms.

As you danced, his heartbeat quickened, his breaths shallow and erratic. He wondered if you knew what you were doing to him—how just being close to you made it feel impossible to think straight. Every touch, every whisper, was like fuel to a fire that had been smoldering since the moment he’d met you. He couldn't ignore it any longer, the way you’d somehow slipped beneath his skin. He wanted all of you—the quick wit, the mischievous grin, the soft vulnerability he saw in your eyes in quieter moments on set. And tonight, he wanted you in a way that left no room for pretense or careful boundaries.

You two were dancing face to face, the music vibrating through your chest as you moved in sync. Nicholas leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear, the warmth of his breath sending a jolt of heat through your body. His voice was low and smooth, a touch playful, as he whispered, “How’s my girl feeling tonight?”

His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you in closer, pressing your bodies together as if there was any space left between you two. You could feel the solid muscle of his chest against yours, the strength in his arms as they wrapped around you, grounding you in the moment. The heat of his touch lingered where his fingers gently grazed the curve of your waist, sending a wave of electricity through your skin.

You were attracted to Nicholas, no doubt about it. Up close, he was all intense, striking features that seemed made for this low, pulsing light. His deep-set brown eyes held a mischievous spark, the kind that always kept you guessing and a little on edge, even when the cameras weren’t rolling. His jawline was sharp, almost sculpted, and as he looked down at you, the soft stubble along it caught the neon glow, adding an edge to his otherwise boyish charm.

As you looked up, his tousled dark hair fell a bit across his forehead, framing his face in a way that softened his piercing gaze. His lips, full and inviting, curled into a subtle smirk as he looked at you, as though he knew exactly what kind of effect he had. You felt his fingers shift at your waist, his thumb tracing small, almost hypnotic circles against your hip, bringing a flush to your skin.

Despite the undeniable attraction, you hesitated to lean into whatever Nicholas was offering. Playing “relationship” was fun, but you knew getting involved with a co-star was a risky move. You flashed him a playful smirk, your voice teasing as you responded, “Your co-star is doing fine.” You took a small step back, creating just enough space to break the intensity between you two. But it wasn’t enough to stop the flirtation—you secretly hoped he’d pull you right back in.

He wasn’t having any of it. “Stop playing with me,” Nicholas groaned, his voice taking on that low, almost dangerous tone you couldn’t ignore. He leaned back down, his face just inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin. “You know I want you.”

His words sent a thrill coursing through you, the heat of his breath making your pulse race. Despite the hesitation, you could feel your body betraying you, urging you to close the space between you two again. His head lingered by your ear, his lips brushing against your skin, just barely a touch, sending a spark through you. Before you could pull back, his lips grazed the sensitive spot near your neck, planting soft, lingering “innocent” kisses.

The kisses were feather-light, almost teasing, yet each one felt like a jolt of electricity. They were gentle but purposeful, just enough to make your knees weaken and your womanhood tremble. His closeness, the warmth of his skin against yours, was intoxicating, and with every soft kiss, you found yourself craving more.

With a few sharp breaths and low moans, he knew he had you. The sound of his name on your lips, barely above a whisper, was all the confirmation he needed. You tilted your head to the side, offering him your neck, giving him full access to your skin. His hands, on your waist, pulling you even closer, his body flush against yours.

He didn’t hold back. His lips moved with confidence now, kissing the delicate curve of your neck with more urgency. Each kiss was deeper and more insistent, the pressure of his mouth leaving a trail of heat and need in its wake. His tongue darted out, tracing the sensitive skin beneath your ear, sending a shiver of desire straight through your body.

You could feel him smiling against your skin, sensing the way your body responded to his touch—how you instinctively leaned into him, drawn to the heat between you. His hands, bold and sure, roamed lower, the pads of his fingers grazing the curve of your back, sending a shiver of pleasure through you. The sensation was soft at first but quickly turned more intense, his touch growing bolder, more confident with each passing second. Every moment between you two felt like a slow burn, the anticipation building as his lips trailed over the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

Then, when he shifted, you felt it—his hardness brushing against your thigh. The contact sent a wave of heat straight through you, an electric shock that heightened every nerve in your body. It was enough to make your pulse race, enough to make you realize how much you wanted him in that moment.

Without thinking, you reached down, your fingers gently grazing over the fabric of his pants, feeling the outline of him. The pressure of his body against yours, the growing heat between you two, made you want more—made you want to make him feel just as desperate for you as you felt for him.

You could feel the quickening of his breath, the way his chest rose and fell against yours. A low groan rumbled from his throat as you continued to trace his length, every brush of your fingers sending a thrill through both of you. His hands tightened around your waist, pulling you even closer, as though he couldn’t get enough of you either.

Without another moment passing, Nicholas grabbed your hand, his fingers tight around yours, pulling you through the crowded space. He moved with purpose, guiding you down the secret hallway the cast used to get into the club, away from the prying eyes and flashing lights. Each step seemed to quicken the pulse between you, the anticipation building with every turn. You felt his grip firm on your hand, but also the heat radiating off him, as though he couldn't wait any longer.

With just a few more steps, you found yourselves in the private dead-end hallway. It was dim, secluded—perfectly private. Before you could process what was happening, Nicholas had you pressed up against the cold wall, his body pinning you in place. The urgency in his movements left no room for hesitation as he slammed his lips onto yours, the kiss fierce, demanding. His mouth claimed yours with a hunger that mirrored your own, lips moving against each other as if he couldn’t get enough.

His hands weren’t idle either. One moved to your waist, gripping you tightly as if to keep you exactly where he wanted you, while the other traveled lower, finding its way to the waistband of your panties. His touch was deliberate and heated, and in an instant, his hand slipped beneath the fabric. His fingers brushed the sensitive skin just above them, the contact sending a shock of heat straight through you.

You gasped into his mouth, the electricity of his touch overwhelming, making every part of you ache for more. His fingers continued to tease, moving with slow, deliberate pressure, testing the limits of your restraint. He continued to rub and massage your sweet spot while you moaned and squirmed against his kiss. He pulled away just enough to watch you under his power.

From his vantage, you were a vision—utterly captivating in every response. He loved the way your eyes fluttered closed, only to open halfway, trying to find his gaze but faltering under the intense pleasure he was giving you. The way your teeth sank into your lip, trying to hold back the sounds you couldn’t suppress, only spurred him on. Each flick of his fingers brought a fresh wave of moans and whines, soft and breathy, laced with his name in barely-contained pleas. Hearing you beg him to take things further, to lose himself with you completely, made him feel invincible. He knew he had you right where he wanted, and he was savoring every moment.

You planted one last, deep kiss on his lips before sinking to your knees in front of him, never breaking eye contact. Nicholas’ gaze darkened, his breath catching slightly as he watched you with a mixture of anticipation and hunger. Your hands moved with urgency, unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants, your fingers grazing over the heat radiating from his body. As you freed him, he let out a soft groan, his gaze fixed on you, filled with both awe and impatience.

His hands instinctively found their way to your hair, tangling in it gently as you looked up at him, the connection between you electric and unspoken. The way he was watching you—intense, with a mix of excitement and restraint—made your pulse race. His pupils were dilated, his breathing uneven, and you could see the anticipation building in his expression as he waited, every part of him attuned to your next move.

As you leaned closer, he tightened his grip, his fingers brushing against your scalp, guiding you but letting you set the pace. You started slow, savoring every moment, every reaction, feeling his muscles tense and hearing his breaths turn to low, needy moans. His chest rose and fell heavily as he fought to keep control, his head tilting back slightly as he surrendered to your touch, murmuring your name in a rough, breathy tone that only made you want him more.

Every time you paused to swirl your tongue around his tip, Nicholas' whole body tensed, his breathing turning shallow as he let out a low, drawn-out hiss. The sound of your name on his lips, mixed with whispered curses, filled the air. He couldn’t help himself, alternating between breathless moans and deep, husky praises. “God, you’re such a good girl,” he murmured, his voice filled with a raw, admiring intensity. “You look so beautiful taking me like this.”

With each word, his grip in your hair tightened just enough to keep you where he wanted. His hands were steady, yet you could feel the slight tremor in his fingers as his need for you grew. Finally, he held your head in both hands, his gaze locked on yours, guiding you with a slow, deliberate motion. He pushed himself deeper, filling your mouth as his hips rocked in rhythm, pressing him to the back of your throat. The sounds escaping him were desperate yet controlled, each ragged breath carrying his satisfaction.

“Look at me, baby,” he whispered, his voice dropping to a breathy, gruff murmur, thick with desire. “Let me see those pretty eyes.” His gaze was commanding yet filled with an undeniable admiration, and as you met his eyes, he let out a deep, shuddering breath, fully captivated by the sight of you. The connection between you was intense, wordlessly conveying his appreciation for everything you were giving him, every shiver and sigh pulling him closer to the edge.

Your throat tightened slightly as you tried to take all of him, a small gag escaping despite your best efforts. Nicholas chuckled softly, a low, satisfied sound, and his hand moved to gently tap your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin with a subtle affection that made your heart race. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, pride evident in his tone.

His hands slid down to your shoulders, pulling you up to meet him, and the moment your lips touched, he captured you in a deep, consuming kiss. It was passionate, full of hunger and appreciation, and he groaned against your mouth, relishing in the taste of you. He leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes filled with a soft, smoldering intensity. “You did so good, baby,” he whispered, his voice rough yet tender. “You looked so perfect, taking me in… just like I always knew you could.”

Each word sent a wave of warmth through you, and his hands stayed on your hips, grounding you, his gaze never straying from yours. He ran a thumb over your bottom lip, still swollen from your efforts, his gaze filled with both desire and genuine admiration as he traced your features, savoring every moment and every breath shared between you.

Nicholas could feel the anticipation radiating off you, your body responding to his every touch and move. He knew just how much you wanted him, and he wanted to give you everything you craved. With deliberate slowness, he turned you around, pressing you gently forward. His hands slid up your thighs as he lifted the hem of your dress, savoring the soft, heated skin beneath. In one fluid motion, he pulled down your panties, his lips still trailing along your neck and shoulders, leaving a trail of warm, lingering kisses that made your breath quicken. He groaned into your ear, his voice low and thick with desire, reveling in the way your back arched, your body silently pleading for more.

“I wanna make you feel so good,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. His hands roamed over your hips as he positioned himself behind you, letting his tip trace over your folds, teasing you until you were trembling in his grasp. The first sensation of him entering you made your breath catch, a shudder running through both of you as he filled you, slow and deep. You instinctively moved in sync, bodies finding a perfect rhythm, every thrust sending a wave of pleasure through you.

Nicholas buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath coming in rough, heated gasps as he lost himself in the moment, savoring every pulse and movement of your body against his. You reached back, threading your fingers into his hair, giving it a gentle tug, and he let out a breathless whimper—a sound that only made you ache for him more. His need to be in control fueled you, but there was something thrilling in the way he let you pull him back, every now and then, giving you the slightest taste of control.

You guided one of his hands from your hip, pressing it down between your legs. He understood immediately, his fingers finding and massaging that sensitive spot, adding another layer of intensity to your connection. He quickly obliged, his touch skilled and deliberate, and you felt yourself unraveling under the dual sensations, every nerve heightened, every thought fading into pure, unfiltered bliss.

Nicholas’s pace quickened, and with every movement, he brought an intensity that made you lose yourself further with each second. His hands roamed your body, seeking out every place that could make you unravel under his touch. One moment he’d slap your ass, and in the next, his fingers wrapped around your neck, adding a delicious pressure that only heightened the sensations. He reached between your legs, his fingers brushing against your heat, before gently tilting your head, exposing more of your neck so he could plant hungry, open-mouthed kisses there. The air around you both grew hotter, more electric, and you could feel that familiar pressure building, bringing you both to the brink.

He leaned into your ear, his voice thick with need, a hint of desperation woven into it. “I want to cum for you, baby,” he breathed. “Tell me how bad you want it.”

Your voice came out in a shaky whisper, overcome by the sensations he was giving you. “Let’s do it together. I’m so close,” you pleaded, feeling yourself hovering right at the edge. His thrusts stayed steady but powerful, his head buried against your neck, breaths hitching and moans deepening. His grip on your hips tightened, guiding your body to match his rhythm perfectly, every stroke hitting deeper, more intense.

Nicholas, always the performer, could feel just how close you were, but he wanted to hear it. His voice was a low, teasing growl. “Tell me how much you want me, baby,” he commanded. “Tell me how good this feels… tell me who you belong to.” With each demand, his movements became more forceful, every stroke making you lose control a bit more.

He was close too, a raw intensity filling each thrust, and just before the finish, he grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling your head back to make sure he felt every shudder of your response.

“Are you ready, baby?” he gasped, his tone shaky as he was right on the edge. You tried to say his name, but the feeling was so intense, it came out as a breathless, pleading sound. You nodded, barely able to form words as your body responded, every nerve lit up as you both finally reached your climax.

As he spilled into you, the sensation sent waves of warmth through your entire body, making you moan out, your voice just barely above a whisper but full of satisfaction. Your body shuddered, every nerve still singing from the overwhelming release.

Even as you tried to catch your breath, he gave you a few more slow, teasing thrusts, drawing out every last tremor until you were completely undone. Each lingering movement kept you in the moment, his body still pressed firmly against yours, leaving you weak and trembling beneath him.

A satisfied smirk played across his lips as he felt you react, your legs shaking as his hands traveled slowly up your sides, grounding you through the aftershocks. He murmured in your ear, his voice low and full of pride, "You’re so fucking hot when you cum...just like I always imagined" His fingers traced gentle circles along your waist, savoring how soft you felt under his touch.

With a final, breathless sigh, you turned to face him, pressing your forehead to his as he caught his breath, his thumb grazing softly over your cheek.You both stayed like that, basking in the warmth between you, as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, leaving soft kisses along your shoulder and neck, his way of savoring every last moment.

[dukeofthomas]

"Are the Robins child soldiers" It depends. If the story is super serious and into exploring complex morality and grounded from reality's standards, then yes. If the story is lighthearted, made for children, fluff, etc., then no. If it's somewhere in the middle, it might depend.

If an author wants to write a story seriously delving into the fucked up-ness of children fighting criminals, they can, and if you don't like it, you can read something else.

If an author wants to write a fun story about villains and heroes featuring Robin in a world where that's not an issue, they can, and if you don't like it, you can read something else.

If an author wants to write a serious story but not apply IRL-logic to Robin, they can, and if you don't like it, you can read something else.

[djotime-allthetime]

Freaky Redheads

synopsis: interactions between you and fred hechinger at a red carpet event for gladiator ii.

wc: 2.5+

rpf!!! don't like, don't read!!!

a/n: i love that soft, sweet, adorable man with all of my heart. my inspiration is how fred talks about sherry. the monkey. i'm down bad bro.

italics are supposed to be comments under tiktok clips of these interviews. i definitely have more in mind for these two, but we'll see how this goes. feedback is writer's fuel!

cross posted on AO3

The flashing cameras and yelling reporters have started to become the new normal, which was so not normal for you. You couldn't believe how far you'd come.

Granted, your role in the movie was definitely more in the supporting cast territory, but you couldn't deny how massive the production was. But even as a supporting actress, you still had quite a bit of screen time as the unnamed favorite concubine to Emperor Caracalla.

The fans who knew you called out your name from behind the velvet ropes and you smiled and waved as you walked by.

"y/n! y/n! Over here!" A reporter called out. You nodded and smiled as you approached, indicating your acceptance of the carpet-side interview. Your agent had warned you that not every journalist might want to speak with you and that you should accept any interview you came by. Thankfully, as the start of your night would show, that wasn't the case.

"Hello!" You beamed, coming to a stop in front of the camera. The reporter greeted you back and handed you a microphone glued to a mini Romanesque column. "Oh, wow. I love the microphone!"

"Thank you," She smiled. With a quick glance at her blouse, you saw a name tag that said 'MTV UK: Claire'. "It was my idea, actually."

"Incredibly creative! They should give you a raise, Claire."

"If you wouldn't mind saying that directly into the camera..." Claire trailed off with a chuckle and a mischievous glint to her eye.

You shot the camera as serious a look as you could muster. "MTV, if you do not give this woman a raise, I will riot in the streets."

"Alright alright, enough of that." Claire laughed out loud with a few shakes of her head. "You look absolutely stunning!"

"Oh, this old thing?" You smiled bashfully, grabbing at your skirt to twirl it around. The styling department had made sure that all the gowns worn during press had some Roman inspiration behind them. The piece you were wearing was off white in color, representing your character's position in society. Even with your character in mind, your dress was still breathtaking. The gown was composed of yards and yards of fabric, giving it this dreamy, flowy silhouette. The neckline was so beautiful, in the cowl style and draped ever so slightly off your shoulders. To say that you loved it would be an understatement. "Thank you very much, you look amazing yourself."

"But you are on a different level!" Claire gasped, no doubt to return the topic to you. Just like you were media trained, the reporters were too. "What was the thought process behind your look tonight?"

Your eyes lit up as this was something you had wanted to talk about. "Well, the styling department and I actually workshopped this look together. Of course we wanted it to be glamorous, this is the red carpet after all. But we also wanted to show the character through the outfits, you know?" She nodded along.

"Right, your character was quite impactful even with the few lines you had." Claire added, and you smiled in thanks.

"Yeah, thank you." You felt your face heat up at the compliment. "We wanted to still be true to her, under all the glitz and glamour. So that's why we went with the understated color, to not only show her position in society but also her demeanor throughout the film."

"But your jewellery is anything but understated." She laughed.

"Yeah, I couldn't help myself." You laughed with her.

"Give us a quick tour."

You were almost dripping in gold, from your head to your toes. "We've got the hair piece." You brought a hand up to show the gold pins connected with chains littering your up-do. "Earrings upon earrings, all hoops." You pulled a strand back to show off your right ear clearly. Some were clip on earrings as you didn't have quite enough piercings to get them all. "The necklaces, of course. Some bracelets, some rings. But I think this cuff on my upper arm is my favorite."

"And these are all borrowed pieces from different brands?"

"Most of them are, yes." You confirmed with a nod. "But some are from my private collection. And some I might steal." You joked, getting a laugh out of Claire.

"Well, you really knocked it out of the park." Claire smiled, a tone of finality in her voice that showed you the interview was coming to a close. "And before we let you go, we've got one question we're asking everyone tonight. I think we can all agree that the cast of this movie is full of beautiful men." You giggled, a bit surprised at the turn in topic. "But people on the internet have separated them into two categories."

"Oh, have they now?" You asked, unaware of what she was talking about.

"Yes, they have. Gen Z has divided them into the brooding brunets and the freaky redheads." She explained, pulling up two little hand held signs. One with Paul Mescal and Pedro Pascal, the brooding brunets, and the other with Joseph Quinn and Fred Hechinger, the freaky redheads.

You couldn't contain the surprised laugh that escaped you at the sight of their little printed faces. "Oh my goodness!"

"So, as the resident Gen Z-er on the cast, who is your pick?"

"Well, I wouldn't say I'm the only representation of Gen Z here." You mused as you grabbed both the signs from Claire. You lifted up the 'freaky redheads' sign and pointed to Fred. "My friend is right there with me in the Gen Z territory."

"Alright, as the representation of Gen Z women, which team is more your style?" Claire asked as you studied the signs. "People are saying they went into the movie for the brunets and came out converted to team redheads."

"That's actually really funny," You chuckled as you looked down at both signs. "This is hard." You mumbled. A small smirk found itself on your lips as you thought of Fred seeing this clip later. Someone no doubt showing it to him, as he wouldn't find it on his own. "I feel like- yeah." You nodded with determination. "I'm gonna have to go with Fred- I'm going with team freaky redheads." You nodded. "I think it would be treacherous otherwise."

"Good choice. You'd break Emperor Caracalla's heart."

"And then he'd have my head." You laughed, stepping back. "Thank you for your great questions."

"Thank you for your time." Claire waved as you walked away. "We're gonna have a tally going throughout the night, and we'll see who wins. Team brooding brunets, or team freaky redheads." You heard her say to the camera as you moved further down the carpet.

'She looks so pretty!!'

'i love the thought process behind the outfit, you can tell she really loved her character'

'the reporter asked y/n if she prefers lucius and acacius or geta and caracalla and this girl really said FRED 💀'

'i love seeing new faces in hollywood, give young new actors a chance!!' ↳ 'right?? im so sick of them recycling the same actors for every big budget movie'

'she mentioned fred, not caracalla, twice, unprompted. i see you, y/n. you're just like us.' ↳ 'have you seen his interviews? he's literally the cutest i cant blame her 🥺'

A few steps down, another reporter flagged you down. This time, the questions were more centered around the acting itself.

"And was it difficult? In a previous interview, you've said that your character's growth was significant, but she had almost no lines in the movie."

"Yeah, I think in the final cut she only has... three lines?" You winced, looking upwards as you tried to recall what was and wasn't cut. "Though I'm not sure."

"So there were scenes where she could've said more?"

"Oh yeah, for sure! There was a lot of experimentation with my character throughout filming. Ridley's a genius and he was kind enough to truly take in my suggestions. There were times where I felt like she would actually stay quiet during a scene, whereas other times I felt like she would speak up. But yeah," You breathed in and furrowed your brows in thought as you tried to focus your answer back to the original question. "It was definitely a challenge. I had to really work on my micro-expressions. Lots of research, lots of practice. And lots of trust, too. With a character like mine, I really relied on Fr- on my fellow actors in those scenes. So yeah, definitely challenging. But who doesn’t love a good challenge?"

"And did you take any inspiration from other people's work? Any source material that helped you out as you built your character?"

"Of course!" You smiled, a hint of humor in your tone as you thought of your response. "Yeah, I did. Actually, one of the biggest inspirations for my role, believe it or not, was Ferb. From 'Phineas and Ferb'."

"The- The children's show?" The interviewer questioned with a grin.

"Yeah, Ridley thought it was brilliant!" You laughed. "We watched compilations of Ferb scenes on youtube together. And I know that Fred- Fred Hechinger, who plays Emperor Caracalla-, he also brought up Sid Vicious with Ridley, as well as other sources like that. Sir Ridley Scott has great taste, there's no denying that."

'ferb as inspiration for a movie like this,,, gen z in the film industry really are the gift that keeps on giving'

'im just imagining y/n and ridley scott curled up on the couch watching phineas and ferb reruns. that man is 86 years old. this is brilliant.'

'bro didn't even have to say anything and y/n still brought up fred 💀'

'the gen z cast members making ridley scott watch cartoons is sending me'

'not her pretending she didn't mean to say fred when she talked about trust, we all heard you y/n'

Unbeknownst to you, Fred's interviews were going much like yours, only a few feet behind you on the carpet.

"You look amazing today!" Claire, the same reporter you spoke to, told Fred during his first interview on the carpet.

"Thank you, thank you." He replied bashfully as he tried to subtly look around for you, but he couldn't see you just yet. "Everyone looks so great, everyone."

She asked him a few questions and then came time for her ending segment.

"Alright, to close off, we've got a little game here."

"A game?" Fred smiled with raised brows. "I love games." He said softly, not realizing that the microphone would pick it up.

"Yes, a quick one. You just have to choose between team brooding brunets and team freaky redheads. We've asking everyone to join."

"Woah!" Fred exclaimed as he received the signs. "That's me." He pointed out his own face in the picture of him and Joseph. "What are we basing our choice on here?"

"Well, the internet is battling on who is more attractive."

"Oh my god." Fred chortled, not expecting that answer. "Who's played the game?" He asked, still examining the hand held signs.

"As of now, we've spoken to Joseph Quinn, Connie Nielsen, and y/n l/n." Claire recounted.

Fred's eyes lit up and his cheeks reddened at the mention of your name. "And what's the- what's the consensus so far?"

"It's two to one. Can you guess who's in the lead?" Claire asked.

"Let me think... Well, Joseph -my brother-, he definitely voted for us." He pondered aloud as he counted the votes off on his fingers. "Connie... I think Connie went for team brunets. I mean, it's her husband. She's gotta." He grinned when it came to you. "y/n chose me, right? We're in the lead?"

"Yeah, you're right on all counts! You really know your cast members." Claire laughed. "y/n didn't want to anger Emperor Caracalla."

"Oh, she couldn't. I’ve got too much of a soft spot for her." Fred shook his head emphatically.

"So, are you keeping team redheads in the lead? Or will you give us a tie?"

"No, I'm going team redheads!" Fred exclaimed. "I'm not helping out my competition, no way!"

'this man has bewitched me with his beautiful eyes and calming demeanor'

'he always calls joe his brother im CRYINGGG'

'did you see his face when they mention y/n, this man can't hide his crush for the life of him 🥺' ↳ 'neither can she lol'

'what do yall know about fred hechinger 🗣️🗣️🗣️'

'fred immediately knowing that y/n chose him, kill me right now.' ↳ 'mind you the choice was caracalla. she still said 'fred' and he said 'me'. can they be more obvious?'

'the way this man said 'i love games' protect him at all costs'

‘he said ‘i’ve got a soft spot for her’ is this the year of men yearning?’ ↳ ‘it’s just the paul mescal effect’

It was during his next interview that he saw you. He was talking about his experience building the character of Emperor Caracalla with Sir Ridley Scott as well as Joseph Quinn when he finally caught sight of you. You had spent a bit longer with a specific reporter down the carpet, causing Fred to catch up to you. 

“Of course, y/n was a great help as well.” He smiled, reaching over to brush against your elbow to catch your attention. At the perfect time, too, because you had just finished talking to the reporter in front of you.

“Oh, Fred!” You beamed, coming over to give him a hug. 

“Look at you.” Fred spoke against your shoulder. He pulled away from the hug and brought you into his side in front of the camera, almost like he was showing you off. “Look at her, isn’t she stunning.”

“Stop it,” you rolled your eyes as you tried your best not to show how his compliment affected you. “I’m sorry for interrupting, I just had to say hello.”

“No worries,” the reporter reassured you. “Fred was actually saying how you helped with the building of his character.”

“Yeah, we worked really closely during pre-production actually.” You nodded, acutely aware of Fred’s hands on you. He had one hand casually tucked into his pocket while his other arm draped across your waist, his hand resting against your hip. “My character was almost like Caracalla’s sidekick, so the motives for all her actions are really based around him.”

“I’d argue that she was more of a mirror, actually.” You turned to look at Fred, never passing up an opportunity to hear his view on these things. “She’s the complete opposite of Caracalla, but in a way she represents who he truly is under all the pressure of being in Geta’s shadow.”

“And under all the syphilis, of course.” You added, causing Fred to giggle.

“Yeah, and under the syphilis.”

‘he seems like such a sweet guy 🥺’

‘did you see his face when he saw her???  😫😫😫 theyre in love, your honor’

‘him showing her off like that is peak soft boyfriend behavior’

‘they just called me single in seven different languages’

‘his laugh is actually so cute, who is this man and why am i in love with him? 😍’ ↳ 'get in line' ↳'behind y/n, you mean?'

‘the way he’s touching her???? im just gonna go take a nap in front of an oncoming train’

‘im calling it, new hollywood it couple’

‘look at how he looks at her!!! may this love find me 🙏’

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

aww come on it's not like he MEANT to fluster u,, and even if he did, it's not his fault u make it so easy <3

[hinamie]

So remember me in a softer light

[maxivstappen]

hi! i saw that you have a 1k event so i was wondering can i request, the lyrics “open up the door,can you open up the door?”- chihiro, billie eilish. “I want you to stay”-birds of a feather, billie eilish. with max verstappen?

OPEN UP THE DOOR ! MV1

[ 1k event / masterlist ]

☽｡⋆ max seems to be in a terrible condition, so you really need him to open the door now — max verstappen x reader

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 angst, hurt & comfort, fluff? 𝄞 0.8k words (blurb)

He had been down for days now, a breakdown as foreseeable as the weather.

He was at his breaking point, but made sure nobody knew. Of course, he knew that showing emotion isn’t something to be ashamed of regardless of one’s gender, but there was still something so humiliating about having to give in, about having to speak about his - what the formula one fans called it - “downfall”.

He didn’t want to give in because he hadn’t lost yet. He was still leading, still the one with better chances to win the championship, but all praise towards Norris, someone who’s supposed to be his friend first and rival second, hurt like hell.

So after yet another pole for Norris, even though the rest of the day went incredibly well for Max, he really needed to let it out. Finally.

He hurried off into his driver’s room, face all red and hands shaking. He didn’t even know himself if he felt anger or sadness right this moment, all he knew was that one more stupid question by a reckless reporter would give him the rest, and a scandal like that would only make things worse. Couldn’t people just let him do his damn sport and drive? Who gives a fuck about his relationship to his fellow drivers, who cares about who he thinks should be McLaren’s first driver? Was his opinion really that important?

As if that wasn’t enough already, he had to put up with insults and doubts from fans and even his own team as well. They want him to be flawless yet only ever remind him of his flaws.

Max paced around his room, droplets of sweat running down his cheek. He was fucking done with this shit. Why couldn’t they just let him do his damn job? All he signed up for was driving, and now he had to meet random celebrities he doesn’t even know the names of, he has to put with drama fueled up for nothing and the fia now also wants him to stop swearing as if he was some little kid. It was absolute bullshit to him.

His hands clenched into fists and the familiar taste of blood in his mouth was the only thing keeping him from biting down onto his lip even harder.

But then he heard a knock.

“Max? Can you open up the door?”

He recognized you immediately. Your voice was soft and tender like the one of an angel, making his heart flutter, yet he didn’t want you to see him like that.

You were one of Max’s new engineers, and he had never been so happy to see a new face in the Red Bull garage. It was unusual at first, but you two got along as if you’d known each other for forever already, making the separation of the private life and the work life harder than Max usually knows it to be.

You had noticed that Max has been on edge for a while now, especially today. Seeing him run off to his driver’s room only worried you more.

“Sorry, y/n. Can’t at the moment”

Maybe this wasn’t professional of you, and maybe you shouldn’t be standing in front of his door waiting for him to welcome you in, but maybe you were good enough friends for you to know that he shouldn’t be alone right now, even if he thinks differently.

And maybe you wanted nothing more than to finally be there for him like he was for you when you explained to him how weird it felt to work at a place you’ve never even known or seen from outside the tv before.

“Max, can you open up the door? Please? I’m worried”

And that was all he needed to hear. The last thing he wanted was to worry you over what is supposed to be meaningless stuff like this.

He knew you were the right person for him to see right now, and he also knew you wouldn’t judge him.

And so he finally opened the door, the familiar scent of your perfume immediately filling up his nose making him practically fall into your embrace. You slightly pushed the door with your foot so it would close by itself before burying your fingers in his hair while he breathed down your neck.

With your hands cradling his scalp and his arms tight around your waist, Max knew one thing for sure; he wanted you to stay.

guys ik this is very short & bad but i cannot do better atm because of school! very sorry :( but i’m working on some other stuff already!!

[thollandsgirl2013]

𝐖𝐞𝐭 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬*

Parings → Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings → SMUT !! 18+ unprotected sex, Sleepy sex, language

Summary → Peter wakes up in the middle of the night from a wet dream and now he needs you.

(gif not mine)

Your hips moved against Peter’s in a steady rhythm, the sounds of your shared pleasure filling the room. His hands gripped your waist firmly, guiding your movements as you rode him on the couch. He was buried deep inside you, hitting the perfect spot with every thrust, your moans spurring him on as his own pleasure built rapidly.

“Baby,” Peter groaned, his voice strained, his head falling back against the cushions. “I’m so close…”

You leaned down, your breath warm against his ear as you whimpered, “fuck, Peter.”

His hips bucked beneath you, the tension in his body snapping as he let out a deep, guttural moan. But just as the sensation peaked—

Peter’s eyes flew open, his breath hitching sharply as he jolted awake, chest heaving from the vivid dream he’d just had about you. For a moment, he stared at the ceiling, disoriented, his heart pounding as the images lingered in his mind like a second skin.

It wasn’t real.

The realization hit him like a bucket of cold water, but it did little to calm the heat simmering through his body. His skin was slick with sweat, and his cock was painfully hard beneath the sheets. He groaned softly, running a hand down his face as the remnants of the dream refused to fade.

The way you’d moved, the sounds you’d made, the heat, the arousal—it had felt so real. Too real. And now he was left with the ache of wanting you, the need clawing at him like a restless storm he couldn’t escape.

Turning his head, he glanced at your peaceful form, curled up beside him. You were sound asleep, your breathing soft and steady. For a moment, he hesitated, biting his lip as he watched you. He didn’t want to wake you—he knew you were tired—but the throbbing between his legs was unbearable.

“Babe,” he whispered, nudging you gently. You stirred slightly, letting out a soft hum but didn’t open your eyes. “Baby, wake up… please.”

You shifted again, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself, but your eyes stayed closed. “Sleep, Peter,” you mumbled, your voice muffled by the pillow.

Peter groaned softly, the ache in his body growing worse. He needed you—right now. He tried to be patient, but his body had other plans. Before he could stop himself, he pressed his hard cock against you, grinding against your ass, trying to find some kind of relief. The friction sent a wave of pleasure through him, but it wasn’t enough.

“Baby,” he whispered again, his voice low and needy. “I’m so hard… I need you, please.”

Your eyes fluttered open just a crack, the haze of sleep making it hard to fully comprehend his words. “Peter…” you murmured, still half asleep.

“Please,” he begged softly, his voice thick with desperation. He pressed himself against you again, his hands gripping your waist lightly. “I need to feel you, baby. I’m—fuck, I’m so hard, and it hurts.”

You sighed, still groggy, but the sound of his pleading voice tugged at your heart. “Fine…” you mumbled, slowly sitting up and rubbing your eyes. You were too tired to even argue, and you knew how worked up Peter could get in moments like this.

With a heavy sigh, you tossed the blanket aside, slipping off your shorts and letting them fall to the floor. The dim glow of the room caught the way Peter’s eyes followed every one of your movements, his chest rising and falling as he held his breath. A low, almost inaudible sound escaped his lips as you straddled his lap, your body warm and still heavy with sleep, adding to the quiet intimacy of the moment.

Leaning in, you pressed your forehead against his, feeling the soft brush of his curls, and his hands instinctively moved to your hips, fingers pressing into your skin as if grounding himself. “You’re… beautiful,” he breathed out, his voice thick with longing as his gaze locked onto yours. You felt his warmth through the fabric of his sweatpants, the tension building between you, soft but undeniable.

Gently, you reached down, your fingertips sliding along his waistband as you tugged his sweatpants down, freeing him. Peter let out a shuddering breath as you wrapped a hand around him, feeling him twitch under your touch. You took your time, guiding his tip to slide softly against your folds, each slow motion sending shivers up your spine. You teased him this way, dragging him over your clit in slow circles, letting the warmth and wetness build between you both.

Peter’s hands tightened on your hips, his breath catching with each movement. “Baby, please,” he whispered, his voice a mix of need and restraint, and you couldn’t help but smile at how much he wanted you.

Finally, you positioned yourself above him and lowered yourself slowly, a quiet gasp escaping your lips as you took him inch by inch. “Fuck… baby,” he groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as he felt you around him. Your head dropped to his shoulder, and your hands pressed against his chest to steady yourself, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under your palms. His grip on you firmed as he bit down on his lip, his entire body tensing from the intensity of being fully joined with you.

“Oh god, you feel so good,” Peter whispered, his voice breathy and strained. “I missed this so much…”

You let out a sleepy hum in response, your head still resting on his shoulder, your body barely moving. Peter didn’t mind, though. Just the feeling of you wrapped around him was enough to drive him crazy.

He started moving his hips, slowly at first, gently grinding up into you. His breathing grew heavier with each movement, his cock pulsing inside you. “Baby, fuck… you’re so tight,” he groaned, his voice muffled as he pressed his lips to your neck.

You let out a soft moan, barely awake but aware enough to feel the pleasure building. “Peter…” you whispered, your fingers curling into his chest. “Go slow… I’m still sleepy.”

“I will, I promise,” Peter murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “Just let me feel you. Just like this…”

His movements stayed slow, his hips rocking up into you in a steady rhythm, but you could feel how desperate he was. Every time he pushed into you, his body tensed, his breath coming out in shaky gasps. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the way his muscles flexed under your touch.

Peter’s hands slid up your sides, his fingers brushing against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. He pulled you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he continued to move, his cock twitching inside you.

“Fuck, I love you,” he whispered, his voice raw and full of emotion. “I love you so much, baby. You feel so perfect.”

You smiled sleepily, your arms wrapping around his neck as you held onto him, letting him take control. “I love you too, Peter…” you mumbled, your lips pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

Peter’s hips bucked slightly, his control slipping as he tried to hold himself back. He didn’t want this to end too quickly, but the way you clenched around him, the warmth of your body—it was overwhelming.

“Baby, I’m close,” Peter groaned, his voice shaky as his movements became more frantic. “I’m so close…”

You tightened your arms around him, your own pleasure building rapidly as his thrusts became more erratic. The friction, the angle, the way he filled you—it was all too much. “It’s okay, Pete,” you whispered against his ear, your voice breathless. “Let go… I’m right there with you. Come for me.”

Your words pushed him over the edge. With a deep, broken moan, Peter’s hips jerked up into you, his cock throbbing as he spilled inside you. The sensation of his release sent you spiraling into your own climax, your body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you. You cried out his name, your walls clenching around him as your orgasm pulsed through you.

Peter’s whole body shuddered, he's grip on your hips tightened as he rode out his high, his chest heaving against yours. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and ragged, whispering your name like a prayer. Both of you stayed there, trembling and holding each other, basking in the aftershocks of shared ecstasy.

You stayed still, letting him come down from his high, your fingers gently running through his messy curls. “There you go,” you whispered soothingly, pressing another kiss to his temple. “Feel better now?”

Peter let out a breathless laugh, nodding as he pulled back slightly to look at you. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes still dark with lust, but there was a softness in his gaze that made your heart swell.

“Yeah,” he breathed, leaning up to kiss you gently. “So much better. Thank you, baby.”

You smiled sleepily, resting your head on his shoulder. But then a thought crossed your mind, and you couldn’t help but smirk. “So… why were you hard in the middle of the night anyway?” You teased, your tone light but curious.

Peter froze, his cheeks instantly turning a deep shade of red. “Uh…” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, avoiding your gaze. “I… might’ve had an intense dream about you.”

Your eyebrows shot up, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly. “An intense dream?” You teased, brushing your lips against his jaw. “Care to share the details?”

Peter groaned, hiding his face in your neck. “No way,” he mumbled, though the embarrassed grin on his face gave him away. “It’s bad enough I woke you up because of it!”

You chuckled, cupping his face and guiding him to look at you. “You’re lucky I love you,” you murmured, kissing the tip of his nose. Resting your head back on his shoulder. “But next time, wake me up when it’s not three in the morning,” you murmured, your voice soft and playful.

Peter chuckled, his hands still rubbing soothing circles on your back. “I’ll try, but no promises,” he murmured, kissing your shoulder. “I can’t help it when you’re just… so irresistible.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face gave you away. You shifted slightly, adjusting yourself in his lap, but Peter’s arms tightened around you, keeping you close.

“Stay,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Just like this. I wanna hold you.”

You sighed contentedly, closing your eyes as you relaxed in his arms. “Okay, baby,” you whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And with that, you both drifted back to sleep, your bodies intertwined, your hearts beating in perfect sync.

‎∗ ࣪ ˖༺ 𓆩☆𓆪 ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

[rafeownsriley]

warnings : intimate moments (not sex), i think that’s all

pairing : boyfriend!rafe x girlfriend!reader

summary : rafe crossed the line

it was almost 12 pm. normally you’d be sleeping already but unfortunately, you have to study for tomorrow.

your eyes were heavy, half closed. you were laying on your bed, since you couldn’t keep sitting for another hour.

for couple of seconds your eyes closed but they shut open when you heard few knocks on your window. you stood up and walked towards it, yawning.

you opened one of the three windows and looked outside.

,,hey baby.” rafe smiled at you, running his fingers throught his hair. he finally sees you for the first time today.

,,hey.” you mumbled, as you rubbed your right eye gently. you were wearing rafe’s oversized grey shirt he gave you few days ago.

he smiled even more when he saw you’re sleeping in this specific shirt. his shirt. he then spoke up again.

,,can i come in?” you were staring at him for a while, thinking about his offer. even tho you were exhausted, you decided to say yes.

when he got inside, he actually got worried cause there were like ten opened books on your bed, some notes placed on your table.

you laid back down on your bed and after a while rafe joined you. he looked at you, with a small soft smile.

,,for how long have you been studying baby? you look.. tired.” rafe caressed your hair slowly.

you sat up again, which made rafe’s palm slid down on your back. ,,for a while, don’t worry.” you mumbled.

he couldn’t help but start to feel a bit excited.. your tiredness, the way you run your fingers throught your hair and the way your eyes blink slowly.. somehow all of this turned him on a little bit. or maybe it was because he hasn’t seen you all day? who knows.

you weren’t paying attention to that at all. you were too busy reading stuff about acids and bases, another informations you’ll never use.

after couple minutes, you could feel rafe’s lips softly pressing against the side of your neck, which made you close your eyes for couple seconds.

,,rafe.. i’ve had a bad day..” you said, meaning every word that left your mouth. rafe just smirked lightly, and kept kissing your neck.

,,maybe i could.. make it better.” he mumbled under his kisses, smirk still remaining on his face. his hand moved towards yours, gently taking the notes out of your hand before he placed them on the ground.

after couple seconds he got on top of you, now pressing his lips on yours. his hands were running over your hips, caressing them slowly with his fingers.

,,rafe, not today.. please.” you whispered to him, in between your kisses. his mouth left yours for a while, so he could speak.

,,shh baby you’re clearly exhausted just.. just relax, alright?” he said, before he started kissing your neck again.

you didn’t want to have sex, not after you’ve had like the worst day ever. you also didn’t want to piss him off, but you’re not even in the mood.

you could feel him getting lower, his kisses caressing your collarbone now. meanwhile, his palms were already touching your thighs under your shirt.

you hated that you didn’t like it, that your body wasn’t reacting like it normally would. the only thing you wanted at that moment was sleep. you needed to sleep after this very long and hard day.

you didn’t even realize that he was already shirtless, actually you both were. you were laying under him, just in your black bra and black underwear. when you looked at him with your tired eyes, you could see his smirk widening.

,,you’re so beautiful.” he whispered before leaning closer to you again, leaving kisses all over your chest. when you saw him taking off his shorts, his lips still on your chest, you just lost it.

it wasn’t like you were scared of him or something, you know he wouldn’t hurt you, ever, even when it comes to this. but you just really didn’t want to do it. not today.

rafe was about to kiss your lips again but he stopped when he saw tears on your face. his smirk quickly faded away.

,,please, stop.. please.” you cried out softly, your teary eyes staring on his face. he placed his palm on your cheek, his thumb wiping away your tears.

,,hey shh..shh, i’ll.. stop now.” he whispered to you. he felt so bad right now. he moved next to you and put his shirt back on.

,,baby i.. i’m so sorry.” he whispered, ran his fingers throught his hair. he wanted nothing more than just comfort you and make things right.

,,it’s fine. i’m sorry i just..” you rubbed your eyes, your wet cheeks making his heart ache. he made you cry. oh he felt like shit.

,,don’t apologize baby, i fucked up okay?” he laid next to you, his arm wrapped around your shoulders again. he pulled you closer to him, his other hand went around you.

,,i’m so sorry baby.” he kissed the top of your head, slowly caressing your back. you kept sobbing for couple minutes. he looked down at you when he didn’t hear your sobs anymore, and the view of you made him smile. you’re so cute when you’re asleep.

he kept hugging you, his head lightly pressing against the top of yours. after a while he also closed his eyes and fell asleep.

i hope you’ll like this since it’s quite a short story :) also i’m working on my masterlist rn 🫶🏻

[belokhvostikova]

─── 𐙚 Fic Authors Self-Rec Game

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics you’ve written, then pass it on to at least five other writers! Let’s spread the self-love! ༝༚༝༚

I love when my presence is acknowledged by @onegirlmanytales. Someone cool knows me, he he.

The “Plug” | (Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader) (18+)

Man, just like all my fics, I hated writing this one, but it was worth it! Yay! I don’t know, it just has such a nice feel to it, mostly because I like the idea of Eddie having a crush on us (me). This was also inspired by some Soundgasm audio, lol, so it has quite a nice bit of horniness to it! I’m just quite proud of how decently written it is, especially since I usually crash out on writing during the middle and end of my fics, and this one is just pretty damn alright!

The Yearbook: Club Pictures | (Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

I felt so wanted and famous during this series, lol! It was my first, too! You guys were just very receptive to the first chapter, which really motivated to continue. And, I know I shouldn’t, but I love Eddie being mean to us, then profusely groveling, okay?! It’s fun, I swear! But, my god, let me tell you, that last chapter in this series was literal HELL ON EARTH to write, I never want to experience that again, I think it’s like 35k words or more, I don’t know what I was thinking…

The One Where Everybody Finds Out | (Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader) (18+)

This one was just actually fun to write! It’s quite stupid, but I enjoy the stupidity of it. You watch Friends, then this comes along, you know, inevitable. Although, much like all my other fics, I feel as though it could have ended better in terms of the writing. Y’all, I’m telling you, all my fics start out great, then just get shit! How does one stop that from happening! It’s like I get summit fever, ugh!

Eddie’s Situationship | (Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

Don’t know if this counts, given that it’s just a blurbo, not a fic, but suck it, because I LOVE IT! Drug Dealer!Eddie, man, I love it too much. I don’t know, something about a scary man liking us (me) is so hot, AH! I just want this to happen to me, okay?! There, that’s why it’s my favorite, damn it!

Dustin Fucking Henderson | (Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader) (18+)

Listen, I’m going to be quite honest, I feel strongly mediocre about my fics, okay? They’re not anything to die for, like this one. But see, this one, it’s quite precious, because it’s, like, the second oneshot I ever post, and my MOST liked fic ever! Which, with all love, pisses me off, because it’s so POORLY written, lol! Like, if I could (totally won’t), I’d rewrite this bitch 10x better. I love the plot line! Love the blowjob! Just hate the writing!

Okay, now this is where I shut up. Mothertrucker, just post your favorite fics, okay? It’s Tumblr. You don’t have to be nervous, people have said way worse stuff than being proud of their work! @oneforthemunny @queenimmadolla @m0llygunn @munsonology @madelynraemunson