#him and kit going back and forth
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kitxvoss · 1 year ago
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kit voss in every episode / 4x08
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tennessoui · 1 year ago
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alrightalrightalright what about an au where newly knighted obi-wan kenobi is working as a jedi on a hugely top secret project in the middle of nowhere, outer rim, with a very small amount of help from the jedi order and strict instructions to not let anyone know what he's doing - and one night he gets involved in something he has no business getting involved in but this is obi-wan, after all, he never can leave well enough alone. he's trying to bust and rescue a slave ring he uncovers (again, completely on accident, he just took a night off for a drink)
and he decides to go undercover himself to get back to where the (pleasure) slaves are being held so he can set about freeing them, but before he's done, smuggler anakin skywalker bursts in and rushes all of them onto his ship to get them away, taking well-meaning but solidly jedi obi-wan with him
but obi-wan IS under strict orders to not disclose anything about himself or why he was on the planet because this is a super secret jedi project....and anakin thinks he just rescued him from slavery, so it's not like he can just politely ask to be dropped back off roughly around the location he was picked up
and the longer they fly about the galaxy, the more obi-wan is hesitant to return at all. not that he has issues with the order or anything. not that he doesn't feel extremely uncomfortable lying to anakin about his past when anakin is being very kind and understanding and opening up about his own past as a slave....
but despite his duty to the order to return to that planet, despite the guilt he feels when he cannot be as honest with anakin as the smuggler is with him....he sorta...he sorta really likes the other man. he likes the type of freedom he's showing him. he likes the miniature missions they send themselves on. he especially likes the way he catches anakin looking at him sometimes from the pilot's seat, as if he's the biggest, most precious, most unexpected gift he has ever received
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verefex · 1 year ago
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Oh Kitty Kat wants to play with word puns when flirting I see?
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your move
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kitsquared · 4 months ago
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I didnt realize till now. Till sings the last
"Leave no regrets"
instead of Luka??
Till steals Luka's line when the other times they both go back and forth with the chorus of Blink Gone
...
OH. He probably. Actually. Almost steals the round especially with that score because of that
Plus adds to his spirit blazing back
Quite literallly in the lyrics:
And this hot, fiery thrill
Blazes up in the sky till the end
Which he sings as a motivator after Luka's first provocation to remind Till of Ivan
And actually protrays how he finishes the round when Mizi shows up
Mizi, who is named after Till's song, Unknown (Till the End) ?
I
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abbyshands · 1 year ago
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hers only
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└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
synopsis; gf!abby does not like clara, the gym trainer who can’t keep her hands off you. so who’s surprised when she loses her composure, channeling her rage in the form of rough, hard sex?
pairing; dom!abby anderson x sub!fem!reader
warnings; abby’s jealous as fuck, a little toxic!abby but not really, use of a strap-on, abby refers to the strap as her dick/cock, and strap is referred to as her dick/cock, throat-fucking (with fingers), fingering, choking, pretty rough sex, degrading (slut/bitch/whore, etc), a little praise, use of baby/honey, one use of y/n BEFORE the smut (sorry, it was necessary), spanking, reader cries, abby gives reader a sensory overload, dumbfucking, etc
a/n; hello! my name is kitlyn, kit for short :) i’m a huge writer, and tlou is my latest obsession. so, ofc, i had to get this fic out for my gf, and much more to come. i hope you like this, and if you have any ideas for me to write, please lmk!
p.s.; your daily reminder (or a fun fact), abby canonically bench presses 205 pounds. i rest my case <3
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
she could only make it a few weeks before her annoyance got the best of her.
you were bulking up for an upcoming mission, assigned to you by issac. in the area you would be in, scar presence was heavy, and you wouldn’t be back to the wlf for a bit, so gaining muscle was a necessity.
abby just wished she didn’t have to watch that girl’s hands all over you to get the job done.
she didn’t understand why she couldn’t train you herself, why issac wouldn’t fucking let her. he waved her off, giving her some bullshit about “a lack of focus.”
come on. if she knew you needed to bulk up, if it meant it would keep you safe, she wouldn’t lose her focus just because it was you.
maybe.
but this was the replacement. some other girl in the wlf, hands all over you as she helped you do pull-ups. your body was covered in sweat, and you had been at this for over an hour. the girl, whose name was clara, had her hands on your hips as you lifted yourself up and over the bar again and again.
“c’mon, give me ten more. you got it,” clara said. you were looking at yourself in the mirror as you let out a grunt with each pull-up you did, on your tenth at this point. but you did your best to push through.
“clara,” you groaned. “i can’t fucking—“ you began. but your trainer cut you off.
“don’t use your breath. just keep going. i’ve seen you do it before. you got it,” clara said once more, tone firm. you didn’t think it would be a good idea to deny her. so you went on.
but you were fully oblivious to the pair of blue eyes fixed on you across the room.
you had forgotten that abby also worked out around this time to lift with manny, so it didn’t even occur to you that she was gazing at this whole thing like a hawk.
“abs!” manny said to abby, accent thick. he snapped his fingers in front of abby’s face, and abby looked at him both confusedly, but also annoyedly.
“huh? what, what is it?” abby asked. she had fully spaced out, and her cheeks were red. but it wasn’t because of the workout.
it was your fucking trainer.
“estás bien? i lost you a few minutes ago,” manny said. abby had gotten used to his habit of going back and forth from spanish to english, to the point where she knew a thing or two. so she easily responded.
“yeah, i’m fine. let’s just finish for today, okay? i’m not feeling it,” she excused. but manny could see where her eyes were.
you.
“ah,” manny said. he seemed to understand now, a look of comprehension across his face as he said that. “okay. i’ll see you back at the room, then, sí?” manny asked as he held his fist out.
abby did the same and gave him the small fist bump he was looking for. “yeah, see you.”
once manny had left, abby began to pack up her gym bag. by now, you had finished your pull-ups, and were taking needy gulps from your water bottle. clara gave you a small pat on the back once you had finished drinking.
“that was good. you got any more in you?” clara laughed.
you smiled at her, shrugging. “not sure. i’ve gotta meet my girlfriend soon,” you said. really, it was in an hour or two. but you’d have to shower, change, etc. so, to you, it was soon.
nevertheless, you figured a bit more couldn’t hurt. so, you said, “but i think i can do a few more reps.”
clara just gave you a nod. each time you would bring up this girlfriend of yours, her demeanor changed like that. she’d tense, and pause her words.
you knew what it seemed like, and obviously, you didn’t like clara. but you did kind of need her.
and besides, if abby—fuck, if abby knew? it'd be a fucking field day to say the least.
you ended up choosing back squatting as a way to finish off your session with clara. you ducked your head under the bar, elbows flexing as you removed it from the rack. you caved a little under the heaviness of it, but with clara’s reassurance, you did your best to move.
clara put her arms under yours as you held the bar behind your back. she squatted along with you, body behind yours as she spotted you.
you could only make it ten or so reps before you failed on the eleventh, much to your surprise, as it had never happened to you before. clara put her hands on your chest quickly, and helped you move the bar back up to the rack.
“sorry,” you whispered in a huff, face red from the tension your body had just undergone. clara’s front pressed to your back for just a moment, and you felt a little uncomfy. she had spotted you before while doing a back squat, but not once did you fail one, forcing her to really touch you like that.
“it’s okay, it’s okay. you did fine,” clara smiled. this time, she put a hand on your shoulder, way too close for comfort. and then, she murmured to you, her own face red. “i’m proud of you.”
oh, that was fucking it.
abby discarded her gym bag on the floor. she tossed it somewhere. she would grab it later. but she couldn’t fucking watch this anymore. who the hell did this girl think she was, hands all over you like that? and who knows what she was saying to you? that was abby’s fucking job.
and hers only.
“y/n,” an all too familiar voice said from your left, and you didn’t need to look to know who had spoken.
you were thinking, my savior, once abby’s voice filled your ears. but when your eyes moved to hers, you were sure your soul left your body.
because she looked pissed.
clara moved her hand off your shoulder, and you hated the way she did it—like the two of you had been doing way more than just working out.
“grab your shit, we’re leaving,” abby said firmly to you, and she couldn’t help but send a small glare clara’s way. you weren’t the only one feeling scared, because clara was pale as a ghost. she had known you had a girlfriend, obviously.
but it was abby fucking anderson?
neither you nor clara said a word as you packed up your gym bag. once you had, abby was grabbing you by the waist, and yanking you out of the gym, leaving clara far, far behind you.
“abs—“ you tried, you really fucking did. but abby didn’t want to hear it.
“not a fucking word.”
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
manny knew better than to come back to the room once he saw abby eyeing you like that in the gym. it wouldn’t be the first, nor would it be the last, time that abby’s temper had ended in a room full of sex.
as soon as you were inside of the room, abby was grabbing your gym bag from your hands, tossing it far away, and kissing you aggressively. you responded with a whine, but let her, kissing her back with just as much passion. her hand gripped your neck as she all but slammed you onto the door, free hand running over your body like it was a temple she was born to worship.
really, it was.
abby put her free hand under your leg and held it up, pressing herself into you as her tongue battled yours. you moaned into her mouth as her grip on your neck compressed, her fingers digging into the soft skin of your thighs.
what a good day to have worn shorts…
when abby finally pulled back, your lips were spilling with drool, lips numb and plump from the belligerence in abby’s kisses. your whole face was hot, and abby’s face was red.
and, fuck, did she look mad.
abby smashed her lips back onto yours, and kissed you all the way to her bed. once there, she pushed you down onto it and got on top of you, her large thighs on either side of your lap.
if you weren’t in for it before, you surely were now.
abby reached her arm out to open the drawer of her bedside table, and it was only a moment or two before she was pulling out a very familiar item.
her strap.
“a- abs, wh- what are you—“ you began dumbly, way too curious to find out what it was she had in mind. but abby wasn’t feeling at all gracious.
you talk when she says you can.
“shut the fuck up,” abby damn near growled at you, the kind of tone she reserved for when she was really fucking angry. you had heard it many times before. when you were on a mission and battling scars. when issac reprimanded her for being careless in the field. when mel pissed her off one too many times.
bottom line, when shit didn’t go her way.
and the idea that she felt that way now both turned you on and scared the fuck out of you.
abby was quick to secure the strap’s harness to her waist. the view of the dildo attached to it always made your mouth fill with drool: black, veiny, seven and a half inches long. she’d made you cum with it so many times you lost count, and it was a million times better than the real thing.
especially when you had abby anderson on top of you, or behind you, or below you, encouraging you to take it like the good girl you were.
she grabbed your hips with fervor, forcing you to wrap your legs around her torso once your bottoms, and underwear, were out of her way. you let out a needy mewl as she slid the tip through your already wet folds, riling you up, just like that.
when your eyes closed as an answer, abby tutted, and moved one of her large hands down to grab you by the chin. “look at me,” she demanded.
and who the hell would you be to deny that?
your eyes were weak and needy as they met abby’s, pupils big with just a touch of fear, heart pounding in your ears. abby spoke firmly, and you could tell that she wasn’t playing around.
you had left fun and games behind the second you walked into this room.
“you’re gonna take this dick as much as i want you to, over and over again. n’ i’m gonna fuck you rough, ‘til you’re babbling out nonsense. do you hear me?”
your body felt paralyzed when those words left abby’s lips, her tone dripping in anger. you couldn’t manage much, and all you could do was nod. but she was not having that.
she squeezed down on your chin, which made you whimper out. “words.”
“y- yes, ma’am, i- i understand,” you weakly muttered out, and that seemed to suffice for her. abby let up on her grip, and her hand moved down from your chin to your lips.
“good. now suck.”
you didn’t delay. you opened your mouth for abby to push her fingers inside of it, index and ring beginning to fuck it. abby could feel your drool as she pumped the two fingers in and out of you, your tongue eagerly wrapping around them.
she doesn’t give a damn in the world as she pounds them to the back of your throat, making you gag, and your eyes close and roll back as she does so.
not for long.
“open your eyes. keep ‘em on me,” abby says in a rough tone, and you oblige a little too quickly. water’s already filling the corners of your eyes, and abby can see that when she looks at you.
and she’s barely begun.
“crying for me already, hm? why am i not surprised?” abby couldn’t help but mock you. you looked so feeble like this, choking on her fingers like the whore you were.
“i’d save your tears, honey. ‘cause there’s a lot more where this came from.”
just as you’re beginning to get used to the rough feeling of abby fucking your face with her fingers, she pulls them out, and you let out a small whimper of disapproval.
but it quickly blends into a moan.
her index and ring, the two fingers that you had just had your tongue around, that were soaked in your drool, pushed inside of you without so much as a warning.
“oh, f- fuck, abby,” you moaned as the suddenness of the moment took over your senses. your thighs clenched around her as she skillfully pumped her fingers in and out of your cunt, just as she had so many times in the past.
abby used her other hand to pry your thighs back open. “ah ah, baby. spread your legs for me.”
just when you figured this couldn’t get any more forceful, abby was pushing a third finger inside of you, her middle one, and using her thumb to rub your clit.
your response was way too fast as you grabbed one of abby’s broad shoulders, digging your fingernails into the freckled skin on it. you let out a loud moan as your eyes squeezed shut, letting it all sink in. three of abby’s fingers deep inside of you, pumping in and out of your wet pussy as she thumbed your clit like a fucking pro.
“fuckfuckfuck,” you groaned, and, god, did abby like that. barely begun with you, and you were already drunk off her touch.
but then again, that’s how it always went.
“look at you, fucking soaked for me. needy bitch,” abby degraded you mercilessly as she curled her fingers inside of you, easily hitting your g-spot.
“mmph, abby…” you could barely manage.
“hush,” she said harshly. your gaze moved up to hers as she fingered you, her usual pale blue eyes big, pupils enlarged. it was clear that she wasn’t letting up any time soon. “don’t talk unless i say you can.”
you didn’t.
abby had you soaking her fingers in your release soon enough, your orgasm spilling over you. she pulled her fingers out of you and moved them to her lips, leaving not even one drop behind as she sucked them dry. the view filled your abdomen with butterflies: that was for damn sure.
if this is how she made you feel with your fingers, you could hardly imagine her dick.
and abby didn’t delay. you didn’t get even a second to process before she was lining the tip of the silicone toy to your cunt, and pushing into you forcefully.
“abby, w- wait, fuck. t- too soon,” you whimpered, but you knew abby didn’t give a shit about what you had to say. she shushed you with her hand, putting her fingers past your lips once more.
“don’t care. you’re gonna take this cock like a good fucking girl,” she emphasized the word as she thrust into you hard. “and i don’t wanna hear shit. got that?”
you nodded, and didn’t try to speak again. you just did what abby wanted you to, sucking on her long fingers to keep you occupied while she pounded into your pussy.
“clara can’t fuck you this good, can she, baby?” abby rasped as each thrust grew more ravenous, both fingers pushing deeper.
so that’s what this was all about. well, really, you figured as much. you knew clara’s behavior would somehow bite you in the ass. but now that you had abby’s words to confirm it, you couldn’t be more sure.
you did what you could to shake your head, but let’s be real. it was abby fucking anderson. speechlessness was never an answer in her books. she took her fingers out of your mouth for the last time, eager to hear you talk now.
“say it.”
“n- no, abby. s’just you. s’only you,” your tongue slurred as the words left your lips, and abby couldn’t help but get off on the way you were speaking, a smug smirk on her face.
“mmhm. only i get to fuck this pretty pussy of yours, y’hear me?” abby let out in a grunt, her drool covered hand settling onto your neck, squeezing down. she was fucking you hard, no mercy as her hips thrust aggressively, pushing herself as deep inside of you as she could possibly go.
you were more than okay with that.
“y- yes, ma’am,” you let out a groan of your own as abby rutted her hips into you, eyes locked on hers. “i’m yours. a- all yours.”
you were a whining and whimpering mess as abby gave you a nod of approval, hand gripping your neck like it was her lifeline. “that’s a good whore. mine and no one else’s.”
“how do you think days like today make me feel, huh? fucking bitch with her hands all over you, gawking at you like you’re hers. well, let me tell you somethin��,” abby snarls. she pulls out of you, tip pressed to your folds, and for a moment, you think she’s going to make you beg for her to fuck you once more. but just like that, she’s slamming back inside, going, arguably, deeper than she had before.
“she doesn’t get to have you. no one’s ever gonna fuck you this good. no one’s ever gonna love you like i do. you’re all fucking mine, like it or not. got that?”
you’re not surprised by the aggression in her tone, but, damn, is she pissed. you can feel her anger seep into your skin as she fucks you like a toy, addresses you like a doll.
and you let her.
“m’sorry, abby, m’so sorry. i know i’m yours. i’m yours, swear to god i am. m’so sorry,” you moan dumbly as she squeezes your neck.
which you’re sure will have marks to show for it tomorrow.
“i know you are, baby,” abby rasps. her hand moves from her neck to your thigh now, and she digs her fingernails into it as she slams into you. “and you fucking should be.”
and again, abby has you cumming, her name rolling off your tongue like music as, this time, it’s her cock you soak in your release. “there you go, honey. know you like when i fuck this pussy like this. that’s it,” abby whispered.
your brain was way too foggy with the aggression of this session with your girlfriend to get your words out properly.
what was is it that abby had said about making you babble again?
“f- fuck, abby. oh, fuck,” you whined, body tired from receiving your second orgasm that evening. but abby was nowhere near done with you: both of you knew that.
abby didn’t speak as she pulled herself out of you, grabbing you by the hips and flipping your body over, so that you were no longer on your back. she forced you onto all fours, your ass poking up into the air. she yanks your bottoms fully off of you from behind, underwear following, and settles her hands onto your ass.
“abby, come on, please,” you all but cry out. you’re not sure how much you can take, not when it’s so sudden, anyway. abby’s anger is slowly going away, your caring girlfriend coming back little by little. but you weren’t quite there yet.
“you’ve got one more in you, baby, i know you do,” abby says softly, and she circles her thumbs over your ass. the move is almost loving.
“and you’re gonna take it, like the good slut you are. mkay?”
like you said. almost.
you grumble, but you can’t say no. not only did you not want to, but when it came to abby, that was one of the last things on your mind. probably. . .not a good idea. so, “mkay,” is what you say in response.
“good girl. can fuck you better like this, anyway,” abby hums. she begins to take your shirt off, and you lift your arms up to help her remove you tank top. and then, who’s surprised, she unhooks your bra with ease, discarding it on the floor somewhere.
the feeling’s familiar as abby pushes inside of your aching pussy once more. you’re sore and tired, brain fucked out from abby’s belligerence. but you need her, just as much as you need the very oxygen in your lungs.
and she needs you.
as if this isn’t enough, her arms move under yours, and squeeze each of your tits. it quickly reminds you of the way clara spotted you earlier, because that was one of the very things that had caused this in the first place.
but this felt so much better.
your eyes rolled back into your head as abby rubbed hard circles into your nipples, eager and needy to get you off for the third time in a row. she knew it wouldn’t be long now. each time she fucked you like this, round after round, your orgasms came in quick successions.
literally.
abby was pushing into your g-spot once again, and the feeling of it all was almost too much. if she wanted you to babble, then she got it: because there was no other way to describe the words spilling from your lips.
“a- abby, fuck, please don’t stop. you feel s- so good, f- fuck, please.” you weren’t making any sense by now, at least not to yourself. but abby knew what you wanted.
because she knew just how to please you.
“keep moaning, baby. you sound adorable,” abby chuckled as she fucked you, hips pushing deep into a spot you didn’t even know you had. “all cockdrunk off this dick, like the whore you are. my whore.”
she just had to add that. for good measure.
“tell me how much you like it. tell me how much you like it when i pound your pussy like this.”
you were licking your lips in the neediest way as she pressed her thumbs into your tits. you couldn’t help but push yourself back into her, that fucking needy for her. “i- i love it, abby. love it so much, fuck. you fuck me so good.”
abby moved one of her hands back from your tit and onto your ass, and gave you a small spank there. “fuck, yeah, i do. never gonna get it this good from anyone else, are you, baby? not clara, not any other bitch. just me, yeah?”
“mmph, mhm,” you murmured, and, fuck, were you on the brink. of course no one else could fuck you like this. no one could fuck like this period. some days, you wished the world could see just what abby anderson had to offer.
but that would involve a hell of a lot of sharing that you didn’t want to do.
“aw, i’m fucking you dumb, huh, baby? can’t even get a word out. dumb fucking slut,” abby smirked, slapping your ass one more time, then massaging the red mark with her thumb. “who do you belong to, hm?”
abby wasn’t wrong. your brain was fogged up, cloudy as she slammed into you from the back, and you couldn’t even see as your eyes rolled back into your head for the millionth time over. your words came out messy, drunken, incoherent. “i- i b—i’m—yours, i b- belong to—to you.”
you could feel your third orgasm bubbling up inside of you as abby pounded you from the back, and she had both hands on your tits once more, gripping both of them as she thumbed at your nipples. your face was hot, your lewd moans filling the room to the brim, as abby filled you.
“f- fuck, abby, don’t stop,” you whimpered out, and you had never sounded so broken before. “g- gonna cum.”
well, that much was obvious.
abby didn’t hold you back. she encouraged you with each thrust of her hips, every one increasing in speed with each second that passed by. she was a pro at this, and she knew it.
“that’s it, honey. cum on my cock, loud, like you mean it. wanna hear you scream for me,” she said with a small grunt, and she said it like it was a demand.
you obeyed.
you were yelling your girlfriend’s name as white spilled all over the silicone that was her dick, a series of pornographic moans falling from your swollen lips. your expression was just that, too: lewd, broken, because you had never been fucked like that in your life.
for the last time, abby pulled out of you, and unsecured the harness around her torso. once she put it to the side, she couldn’t help but put her fingers to your pussy for the last time, scooping a bit of your white release onto them. you shuddered as she did so, and looked behind you, just to see her suck her fingers off.
you lay limp on the bed as abby got up to grab a small towel. gingerly, she began to wipe your body clean, beginning with your thighs. she kissed up them as she did it, and it was so, so different to the way she had been manhandling you mere seconds beforehand.
that was abby for you.
once you were both clean, abby laid down beside you, and pulled you close to her body. she put her hands on your waist, and pressed a kiss to your forehead as you snuggled into her broad chest. you didn’t even feel awkward about the fact that you were the only one naked.
if abby didn’t care, then neither did you.
“you okay, baby? wasn’t too rough with you, was i?” abby asked, her thumb circling your cheek. you smiled up at her, a rush of butterflies soaring inside your abdomen at the small rasp in the way she cooed.
“no, abs. not at all. i mean, i always knew you got jealous, but—wow,” you couldn’t help your giggle.
abby feigned annoyance by giving you an eye roll, but you could tell that she was just being playful. besides, it’s not like she could deny the fact. so she smirked. “what can i say? you just have that effect on me. besides, you have to admit—clara was way too close for comfort.”
“mmhm,” you hum.
“but maybe that was a good thing.”
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
reblogs are very much welcomed <3
———
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jedi-starbird · 9 months ago
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Picture this: Padawan Obi-Wan somehow ends up backed into a corner without his lightsaber. Panicking, he grabs the first thing in his pockets, the river stone Qui-Gon gave him, and just. fucking launches it at the bad guy's head in a one kit KO.
Qui-Gon turns up 10 seconds later like I found your saber! are you alright padawan?? w-why are you cleaning blood off your river stone???
He thinks it's hilarious once Obi-Wan explains and keeps giving him bigger and bigger stones.
Next time they end up in a sticky situation Qui-Gon just hands Obi-Wan a large rock like go forth my padawan :)
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w2soneshots · 15 days ago
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Hi! You wanted some w2s requests and I have been obsessed with the idea of Harry coming off the pitch after the charity match and then spending the night with his girlfriend who has been living the WAG dream for the day. Make it whatever you want I just need sweaty Harry in a football kit.
Wag -W2S
words: 0.9k+
warnings: smut, head (m receiving), unprotected sex, cream pie.
summary: after your boyfriend, Harry, played in the sidemen charity match and lost, you go back to your hotel room and make him forget all about the result.
notes: hii loves! Thank you anon for this request (I also combed it with this smut req😋), I’m obsessed🫶🏼. The match was sooo good and Harry looked unbelievable😌. Enjoy❤️‍🔥✨
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Liked by sidemen, wroetoshaw and others
y/username: words can't explain how proud I am, 4.7 million raised for charity! + thoroughly enjoyed being a wag for the day🤭🤍
-comments-
ksi: all for a good cause man!!!
faithlouisak: so so cute🥹
-> y/username: love u bb
tobjizzle: 🫶🏿
y/nfanpage21: you look GORGEOUS omfg
user: WAG y/n is iconiccc
Today your long term boyfriend, Harry, played at Wembley in the sidemen charity match. The match finished just a short while ago and you've been waiting in the friends and family lounge for him to finish up in the changing rooms.
"Hi," he greeted you with a tired smile as he, Ethan and Simon came to meet their girls. He wrapped his arms around you before you could say a word. You sighed softly, swaying back and forth.
"Ready to go babe?" You asked him quietly, as you'd planned beforehand to just get room service and skip the after game buffet. "Yeah, ready," he replied before pulling away from you. You smiled up at him as you intertwined your fingers and practically lead him out of the lounge. "Well done lads. Bye girls, we'll catch up soon!" You shouted to the couples before walking out of the doors.
You finally got back to the hotel, after an excruciatingly long car ride, in which Harry fell asleep on your shoulder mid way through. He felt a little more spritely after his power nap and so when you entered the room, after kicking off your shoes and placing your bag down, you noticed that he was looking at you in a funny way.
"What?" You looked down, thinking there was something wrong with your outfit. He took a step forward. "y/n?" He asked, voice lowered. Your eyes widened slightly as you realised exactly what was about to happen.
Within seconds your lips had connected. A fire ignited in your stomach as the kiss intensified. His warm hand traveled up the back of your thigh, so you lifted your leg and wrapped it around his hip.
He grunted softly at the action and his free hand moved into your hair. He began peppering kisses down your jaw, leading to the hem of your top. He looked up at you through his lashes as he slowly pulled the straps down so your shirt fell and landed on your hips.
"Okay, you take yours off now. A top for a top," you breathless voiced. He was quick to comply, immediately reaching behind his back and pulling it over his head. You smiled cheekily.
It didn't take long before you were both completely naked, your bodies practically intertwined as you made out. You gently lead him over to the king sized bed, sitting him down on it as you remained standing above him.
Slowly you knelt in front of him, knees on the soft carpet. His mouth dropped open slightly. "Love, you don't have to-" "shhh..." you interrupted him, placing a finger over his soft lips. "I want to. Please?"
He breathed out a laugh as he leaned toward you. "How could I ever deny my girl?" You grinned happily before reaching out. "You like my nails baby?" You asked as your hand wrapped around the base of his hard cock.
"Hm?" He grunted in response. "I got a new set... just for you. Like em?" Your voice was teasing as he waited impatiently for you to move your hand. He finally looked down and he swore he almost came right then and there. You, like this, knelt in front of him with your perfect hand wrapped around him.
"I love them. Love you, I love you so much," he rushed out before letting out a breathy growl when you finally twisted your hand. You wrapped your mouth around his throbbing tip and swirled your tongue, then you took as much of him in as you could, using your hand for the rest.
"Fuck. Yes y/n... mmm... just like that love," he murmured, hand uncontrollably moving to the back of your head to assist your movements, being extremely gentle of course. You could feel him getting close but just before he could finish he pulled you off of his dick and lifted you onto the bed.
Within seconds you were laying on your back, the soft sheets underneath you. He looked at you for permission before quickly swiping his cock between your folds to soak up your juices and then immediately inserting himself into you.
"God- you're so wet for me sweetheart." He let out a loud grunt when he finally felt your walls squeezing him. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the familiar feeling.
After a short moment he began pounding into you. His thumb circled your clit as your manicured nails scratched up his muscly back. "Haz- I'm gonna-" you let out a deep moan when your orgasm washed over you, Harry followed closely behind.
He practically fell onto you as you both caught your breaths. "If that's what I get when we lose I might do it more often," he whispered jokingly. "Just imagine what you'll get when you win, maybe next year." You smirked before pushing him off of you and walking towards the bathroom.
"Coming?" You asked. He shot up and stumbled off the bed as he rushed to follow you. You giggled before turning the shower on.
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bunny-jpeg · 2 months ago
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drive-away phone call
lewis hamilton
request: 107 + 7 with Lewis Hamilton as a rival. Reader took his phone and ran/drove off. Boomshakala yes gawd 107. “your ass is going to be seven different shades of red after that little stunt.” + 7. “you want me to give you your book/phone/item back? make me.”
tags: smut/pwp, rivals au, driver!reader, brattiness, spanking, teasing, dirty talk, cough sex & doggy style, hate sex, unprotected sex, pull out method
eros (the valentine's day collection)
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ferrari were idiots. they wanted a king and a queen for their team. champions to secure them wins. hefty contracts were signed by you and lewis hamilton.
plucked from mclaren and mercedes, shedding the orange and the black then fitted in the fiery reds. it was a bright idea to the team. celebration was in order when the two of you happily signed the contracts. the issue was you and lewis had been bitter rivals for close to seven years.
the famous rumor was that mercedes retracted their contract they had for you because you and lewis verbally chewed each other out behind their headquarters when you were both there at the same time. you and lewis butted heads.
and very few things smoothed over with time in the world of f1.
lewis had been looking for his phone all morning, after first day of the pre-season testing he had been looking for it. he even went to mercedes side of the track to see if it grew legs and walked over there.
but of course, you had seen it.
"looking for this hamilton?" your voice was like a siren's song and when he looked over he saw you standing there in your team kit with one hand on your hip and the other dangling his phone like a toy, "you have to be careful with this, if someone managed to figure out the password. you'd be in a world of trouble."
he sharply exhaled and said, "and who would be able to guess the password." his attempt hold some confidence.
you made a smug face and said, "zero-six, forty-four...surprised you put nico's number first." and grew into a bright grin when the realization dawned on lewis, "don't worry, teammates are meant to keep secrets. but, if you want me to give you your phone back? make me." and then like a rabbit you sped off before lewis could process what you said.
and soon he was chasing after you.
laughter through the back hallways, it was teasing and embarrassing. but lewis had to admit, it turned him on. this brat of a driver who had been under his skin for nearly ten years! you both pushed and pulled each other.
when lewis finally caught you, he slammed you up against the door. the phone tumbled from your hand and onto the carpeted floor. he leaned in close, his dark eyes on yours. there was a fire in your gaze as you held onto his wrist while his fingers held your throat.
"you're a pain in my fucking side." he said.
"oh yeah, and you're saint lewis, patron saint of victory. you stole my twenty-nineteen victory." you said lowly.
"you're still holding onto that." he leaned in, "you said to not go easy on you. you didn't want weakness." he lips were dangerously close to yours, "you can't say one thing and want another. you wanted aggressive, i gave you aggressive."
you swallowed, he felt the muscles of your neck under his palm. you tried to hold your own as you said, "i was happy when verstappen whipped your ass the year after."
lewis chuckled and said, "maybe. but, your ass is going to be seven different shades of red after that little stunt.” and pulled you in for a tight kiss. seven years of back and forth crashed into each other. and the two of you were making out in a back hallway.
the kisses grew hotter and eventually you both tumbled into the room behind you. little time for much of anything, other than the door could lock. sneakers kicked off, lewis' expensive shirt was toss over the to the far corner of the room. the lights onto turned on because it was motion activated.
your hands roamed his chest, "hate to admit it, you look good with tattoos." you looked into his dark eyes, "congrats, i gave you a compliment."
he chuckled and his hand went to your ass for a moment. he gave it a squeeze, "i guess their fitting, just like my handprints on your ass." then went in for another heated kiss.
clothes shed and once your ass was bare, lewis slapped the skin. he pushed you over the couch, your breasts hit the back of it as you tumbled over it.
"hey!" you chirped, then moaned when lewis laid another slap across the soft skin.
he watched it bounce and chuckled, "i said i was going to leave it red. shouldn't have taken my phone. should have stopped acting like a brat. this all could've been solved easily, if i knew that deep down you just wanted me." he got up on the couch behind you and laid more slaps.
"i don't want you."
"your soaked pussy tells me something else." he rubbed his hard cock up against your slit, "you hate that you'll never be as good as me." his voice hot in your ear, "and that's alright, you look better under me anyway." his words pulled something in you and you arched your back a little bit. your behind grew bruised and hot with his attention. and when he sank into your pussy, you bit back any noises.
but lewis knew, he had a feeling for years now that this was some game of chicken. see who could edge the other off the track followed by who could break under the sexual tension between you two. a hand on your hip as he got himself inside of you. he swore under his breath.
he should have done this years ago.
the two of you fucked, it wasn't passionate love making like in the movies. it was hot and both of you had to fight off the urge to be too loud. last thing you wanted was to start of the season in a flurry of speculation and rumors.
you told yourself this would be a one time deal, but you had little faith in that notion. you were going to be in each other's space more often, not separated by team divides. you were both ferrari now, and your passion would be as red hot as the colour of your uniform.
lewis laid more slaps across you ass, it made you tense up around his cock which only fueled him to do it more. it was erotic, hot in a way that made left a fire in his core. he moved against you. he could feel the heat under his touch. everything felt like an inferno. like a wildfire that had been gaining momentum over a long period of time. he'd call it a slow burn, but it was more like a bomb with a long fuse.
"fuck you, hamilton." you groaned as you held onto the back of the couch tightly. you bit your tongue to keep from being too loud. you feared that you'd draw blood.
"already am. already am." he said, his tone a little softer, "now that i've got you all figured out, there's no need for such harsh words. you want me. and you're in luck, because i want you." the couch inched a little across the carpeted floor from the sheer force that he was fucking you with.
if anyone tried to get the door unlocked, it would be game over. your panties were off in some corner and neither of you had any intentions of slowing down the feverish sex until you both felt satisfied.
"you feel good." he said, "look good too."
"no need to soften me up, hamilton. you're already inside of me." you whined as the movements quickened, the pleasure continued to mount between the both of you. it was heavy, it was erotic. it was nasty.
two bitter rivals. either you were wheel to wheel or at each other's throat. every victory over the other was a tally mark added to a long list of grievances. lewis kissed the back of your neck, his hands groped at your breasts.
"are you sorry yet?"
"sorry?"
"yeah, for all the trouble you caused me. seven years is a long time." his pace quickened and it made you see stars. you let out a small gasp from the momentum of his movements.
you looked over your shoulder at him and spat, "in your dreams, hamilton." before you cheek was shoved into the back of the couch.
lewis chuckled, "maybe it'll come true when i win my eighth championship." you cursed under your breath, but lewis couldn't make out what you said. regardless he continued to fuck you.
you knew you wouldn't last much longer, you were moaning a little louder. the pleasure was a heated mess in your core. your back arched and you let out a sweet moan. your tone was a little louder than you hoped.
"fuck." he groaned.
you whined, "that's it, that's fucking it." your cunt clenched around his cock as you climaxed. you felt the heat across your skin as the two of you continued to move together. you hated that the sex between you two are magnetic and it left your mind numb from the intensity.
"you feel good. i think we're going to have a pretty good season. we should've done this years ago." he kissed at the side of your neck, "should've stole my phone sooner."
you moaned and felt the flutter in your chest. lewis continued his thrusts, his pace was punishing before he pulled out and finished across your back. you whine from the feeling of hot cum across your back.
"not taking any risks." he said, "can't have you retiring on me yet." he chuckled. the heat in the air was heavy and the smell of sex was noticeable.
you collected your thoughts and said with exhaustion in your tone, "going to help me clean up, hamilton. or stare at it until it dries?"
lewis could only laugh.
-
the next afternoon, you sat on top of some tires because sitting in a chair wasn't helping at that moment. pain still radiated from your back.
you noticed your older teammate walk by. there was a slight prep in lando's step as he approached you. he was whistling casually, which meant horrible news.
you sighed, "what do you want?" when he got close enough. he leaned against the stack of tires you were seated on. he leaned in close and beamed at you.
"heard someone is finally getting along their teammate."
your eyes went wide. you fake coughed into your hand and tried to play it off, "what the fuck, no! hate lewis' guts, it probably was max and charles, or you and carlos for all i know." you tried to point it back to him.
"aw c'mon, don't play stupid. the whole track heard you two." <3
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obeymeluv · 1 month ago
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In Your Defense [PT - 4 - Diasomnia]
You decide to work at Sam's for Valentine's Day and your crush just happens to hear a customer hitting on you. If they get arrested, can you be their alibi? AKA: This person has a death wish and you find out your crush might be jealous?
Note: Each one is random and some will be longer than others. If I made everyone the same length this thing would be MASSIVE and I would probably die.
Happy late V-Day :)
Malleus is forever amused at the many holidays humans entertain. They're certainly festive and unique. This one relies on red, pink, white, and sweets! He's absolutely fascinated by the sheer amount of heart-shaped items and clever cards but the idea of so many sweets turns his stomach a bit.
Just a bit.
The almost-cloying smell of sugar hits his nose and it's nearly enough to make him leave the shop. He reminds himself that he's not required to eat the sweets nor get anything massive and that does well enough to settle his stomach. He stoops to enter, green eyes turned skyward lest he tangle himself in the cute, frilly banners strung back and forth across the store. Sparkly pink pens draw his attention, the tops decorated with hearts, and he wonders if his grandmother would be interested in it.
Perhaps the heart-shaped trinket box next to it? She's always looking for things to sort and contain her hoard. He picks the deepest one, a great red heart, and puts it in his basket along with the pen.
He meanders through the aisles, picking up an obnoxiously adorable pillow for Lilia. It's meant to look like an envelope sealed with a heart sticker and would do well for his back on gaming nights (which are most nights). Silver and Sebek are much harder to buy for, as they're quite practical and not really prone to whimsy like Lilia. Malleus recalls Lilia trying to broaden Sebek's...people skills...and sets his basket between his feet as he peruses the books. Some of the titles are simple and honest but he thinks Sebek would be hurt if he opened How to Make Friends so he opts for Success in Every Situation.
For Silver, who has hobbies but is always wondering how to incorporate things into training exercises, he picks up a crocheting kit and an origami practice book. Both of these things rely on manual dexterity and patience, the perfect compliments to swordsmanship! Satisfied, Malleus rejoins the line. He's distracted, untangling a heart-shaped hanger with curly gold ribbon when he hears it.
He can't UNHEAR it! Not with his fae ears.
How much do you cost? Malleus clucks his tongue in disapproval, careful not to move his feet lest the magic push down into the shop floor and start to splinter it. Because it needs to go somewhere, he's not surprised that it radiates off of him and starts shaking the shelves. Glimpses of light peeking through slats in the front of the shop are snuffed out by darkness as thunder roars in the distance. The shop lights flicker and buzz as if to protest the conversation on his behalf.
The shop goes deathly quiet. It's enough for him to reign in his magic, that cretin's voice no longer grating on his ears. Malleus swallows down the smoke tickling his throat and walks calmly to the front. His shoes echo quietly but pointedly on the floor. He can see the cretin shrinking with every step and it has nothing to do with the fact that he towers over him.
"Be careful asking the cost of things, human," Malleus looks down at the man, "you may find yourself in a situation where the cost is too steep and the unwillingness to pay leaves you worse off than what you started. So ask yourself: what are you willing to pay? Is the price worth it?"
"No," he whispers in the absolute terror Malleus is all too familiar with. "No, it's not."
You were the first one to not look at him in such a way, and the realization hits him when he locks eyes with you. Yes, the man is running--tripping--out of the store but you look glowing and so happy to see him! His heart swells immeasurably in his chest. Fatally, he fears on occasion.
The lights flicker back to life in the shop, sun caressing the outside once more. Malleus apologizes to the people he cut in front of, gesturing for them to resume natural order but they refuse. He thanks them and hands you his basket. Before you can scan anything, Sam slides in to finish the transaction. "After I check out these lovely imps I'm going to close down for a bit and do inventory, check some things. You should grab what you were looking at earlier!"
You give him a curious look but take the opportunity. Sam probably didn't want to say he was worried about his freezers and fridges after that little stunt. Malleus' magic tends to cast a small effect field that wears off when he's not around. You're careful to hide the ice cream cake from Malleus, glad Sam has charmed bags for cold goods.
"Might I interest you in coming to Diasomnia for the holiday, Child of Man?" Malleus tips his head as he walks out the door. "We've had great success keeping Lilia out of the kitchen this time. He's not fond of marshmallows, you see."
"Sounds interesting! I'd love to! I have something to share, anyways."
"As do we!" Malleus takes your hand and teleports you to Diasomnia where you walk into a small feast catered by various places in town. Diasomnia students were picking and conversating. Malleus guides you to the tea room where there five places set. Lilia, Sebek, and Silver had made their plates and a pot of tea. Malleus pulls out your chair for you and takes your plate and his, not giving you time to make your own.
By the time he returns you've set out the heart-shaped ice cream cake.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Malleus!"
"Quite." he smiles down at you, careful to keep his hair from the food as he sets the plate down carefully.
----
Lilia is a bit put out that Valentine's Day doesn't really have any funny gag items like the April fool's day Sebek and Silver loathe. Surely there must be something, right? He can't stop his nose from turning up at the airy sweetness of marshmallows, finding them stuffed damn near everywhere in the store. Marshmallows have no place in his basket but crunchy suckers and candy hearts do. He giggles to himself as he tries on a pair of heart glasses and finds they actually cut the light quite well.
Super cute glasses for super cute him, right?
He gets Silver a cute stuffed squirrel holding a little sign saying 'NUTS ABOUT YOU!' and starts rooting around for something dragon related for Malleus. Lilia's forced to settle for a dinosaur card that says 'I love you THIS BIG! (My arms are short, okay?)' on the inside. Normally he'd get Malleus an ice cream treat but he found the secret stash and doesn't think Queen Maleficia would want him to have too much. Sebek is hard to buy for, as unyielding as Baur, but Lilia thinks a book of exercise challenges will keep him occupied.
Someone had stuffed a heart-speckled, tinsel-rimmed noisemaker near the book and he couldn't be more delighted. Lilia finds a Valentine's-themed confetti popper near fake mailboxes a few aisles over. Sadly, it's the only one of its kind. He consoles himself with a bottle of tomato juice and gets in line.
"How much do you cost? Come now, boy!" Lilia wants to bite his own tongue for saying 'boy' in public like he's old. He's not even 700 yet! Not very cute of him. "Why worry about the price when you don't even have your wallet?" he's waiving said wallet in the man's face.
Being an ex-general, it was nothing to pick his pocket. A mix of genuine skill and fae speed, naturally. Maybe a little magic to get him up to the front of the line. "H-Hey! Give that back!" the guy tries to grab it and Lilia casually flicks it back and forth out of reach.
Neither fast nor smart, this one. Sad.
"I'll trade you," Lilia offers with a sweet smile that belies the fact that he's not playing. "You leave this innocent cashier alone and you get your wallet back. Sounds good, yes?"
The man tries to grab it several more times before Lilia flicks it halfway across the store. It lands about six aisles over. Predictably, the whelp goes to get it.
"Next in line, please!" you call out, the two of you grinning at each other.
---
Silver knows he shouldn't enable his father's late-night gaming but when it comes to Lilia, he doesn't have a lot of ideas. The drinks are limited edition, colorful, and somewhat dessert-y. They claim to have vitamins and zero marshmallows so Silver thinks a can or two won't hurt. He picks up a few bags of popcorn and some 'mystery box' style candy snacks. Trying to guess the flavor of the jelly beans and fruit bars was sure to please Lilia's...unique palette.
Sebek's gift was a gamble; the artwork on the Fae and Folklore was absolutely gorgeous--gilded in gold and watercolor--but he didn't know if the contents would turn into a rant about humans and their inaccuracies. He decided he was willing to take the risk. Sebek was an avid reader and it might give Malleus a moment of reprieve (even though he didn't mind).
He'd really only come into Sam's for those two; he couldn't shop for Sebek while out in town with him and there were practically no energy drinks to speak of. Apparently online ordering was popular and someone had bought up quite a few. Malleus' gift was tucked away in Diasomnia because Silver was still on the fence about giving it to him. It was meant for children but you were supposed to be able to dig up your own bones and fossils like you were excavating.
It's the thought that counts, right?
Bags of mixed nuts catch his eye and he stops to grab a few. He meant to get some when he bought birdseed in town but it slipped his mind. Silver waits patiently in line, nearly lulled to sleep when the chatter melted into background noise.
"How much do you cost?"
He startles himself awake. That voice was so loud and begging for attention! Begging to be funny. Dredges of sleepiness disappeared with every blink; Silver's brow furrowed when lines upon lines of price stickers came into view. Who the hell was asking about the price of something when it was posted all over the store?! Sam was quite diligent in that; he would never leave you guessing!
Silver finds himself very awake when he realizes you're being accosted by this nonsense. He doesn't know if you look more mad or upset but the guy is clearly waiting for you to feed into something you don't want. Something in him burns and Silver finds himself clutching the handle of the basket so hard it almost cracks.
He stomps up to the man, his aurora borealis eyes boring holes into him. "Considering how you'll pay for the lack of consideration and insolence?" Silver asks him. He sets the basket down and crosses his arms.
He's prepared to roll up his sleeves and start swinging. Lilia would approve, he's sure.
"Lack of consideration?" the guy guffaws, "What do you mean--"
"Look around you! Who likes this? Who wants this? They don't!" Silver jerks his head to you, "And they don't!" he throws an arm out to the people behind him. The guy starts to look at different faces and Silver knows when his shoulders slump, he's won. Satisfied but still a little pissed, Silver goes to the back of the line and watches the man like a hawk to make sure he leaves.
"My hero!" you tease when he finally makes it up to you. Silver can only blush.
-----
Sebek didn't really see the point in Valentine's Day because you don't need a dedicated day to care for people. You also don't need to tell them, just show them! He's not quite disgusted at the amount of candy and sweets he sees but he doesn't know how to feel about it. It reminds him of all the times his father gave him candy and sweets unprompted. He didn't not appreciate it but he thought it was a little underhanded that his father was a dentist handing out sweets.
Who wants soft things, anyways? They need to make crunchy Valentine's candy! He finds candy bracelets and his mouth waters a little, imagining the sweetness and the crunch. It was about the only tolerable thing in this store. The rest of it was an infestation of pink and red and cute.
Gross.
He weeds through bad puns and tacky cards until he finds one for his mother and father. Not too sappy but not cold, either. Sufficient. The attempt to find Malleus a decent, non-bedazzled pen was almost futile but he thinks his Lord will like it for letters to Queen Maleficia. Grandfather Baur gets snacks these humans might find a little tough but the crocodilian fae will like the chew and challenge.
Silver was last on his list. Sebek tried to control the disgust on his face as he looked at all manner of pillows---fluffy ones, pink ones, fuzzy ones, soft wispy ones, ones with happy faces on them--on the aisle. Against his better judgement, he began stretching and squeezing them. Being half fae, it was drilled into him not to be a poor gift-giver.
And if he had to stand near pink, fluffy, glittery pillows he wasn't going to half-ass this. As he flipped them and patted them, Sebek was sorely wishing he could've found something while he was in town. Lilia and Malleus came so easily!
WHY MUST SILVER BE A PAIN? DUMB HUMAN!
You know you don't mean that, Sebek thought to himself, frowning a bit as he tested what must've been the twentieth pillow. Confident with his choice but disappointed that it was a pink cloud pillow, he tries not to sulk as he gets in line. He snaps to alertness when he hears the idiot human ask how much do you cost.
He can hear you trying to steer the conversation back to checking out and the guy says 'yeah, I'm checking something out' and Sebek is done.
"YOU ARE INTOLERABLE AND THAT IS INAPPROPRIATE!" he shouts at the man, pointing a finger at him.
There is a pause. The man looks down at his basket. "I'm not taking that from a guy with a pink pillow." he snorts.
Something in Sebek snaps. He takes said pink pillow and closes the space before the guy can put his hands up.
"SAM! SAM?" you call out as feathers explode and start raining everywhere. IT'S A PILLOW!
SAM DOESN'T BUY CHEAP STUFF! HOW DID IT BUST?!
You watch as Sebek effortlessly dodges every sloppy punch, pillow bunched angrily in his fist. The guy's already been smacked in the face, the stomach, just about everywhere one could think to aim a pillow. It lands solidly and you're not sure if it's because of the feathers bunched in what's left of the pillow or how hard Sebek is swinging. All of a sudden, the pillow is abandoned and they're grappling.
Sebek has the upper hand in this, too. It's not really a contest when he can wrap around him, slip under him, and fold him up like a lawn chair. He lets the guy flail in his arms, knees pinned to his chest, and drops him unceremoniously. The guy tries to take Sebek down at the knees and he's unfazed. Sebek goes dead weight on the man, falling unapologetically and knocking the air out of him.
The man is stunned and Sebek picks him up in one arm like a limp toddler. He's muttering curses all the way to the door, lobbing the man out like a sack of potatoes. No one moves as he disappears between the shelf and reemerges with a new pink cloud pillow.
Sam walks out to the sight of Sebek AND HIS FLOOR absolutely LITTERED with feathers. Surprisingly, he's not angry. Sebek is allowed to check out on the condition that he helps you sweep. It wasn't your fault, of course, but you're currently on the clock. He waits to the side, cheeks dusted pink, until you hand him a broom.
"Thanks for that," you smile.
"Say nothing, human!" Sebek stares at the floor, sweeping so hard he cracks the broom handle. Sam just sighs and gets another one from the back.
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heliosunny · 4 days ago
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Could I please request yandere lucky egg for zhongli or capitano? (Capitano plsssssssssssssss)
LUCKY EGG
Yandere!Capitano x Reader
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You stared at the unmoving egg in your hands, brows furrowed.
It had been three days. Three days of waiting, watching, and even whispering to it—just in case. But nothing. No signs of life, no cracks, not even a single wobble.
“…Maybe it’s just a weird rock?”
Still, your curiosity refused to let you throw it away. It was heavy, warm, and honestly, something about it unsettled you. But that wasn’t going to stop you from testing a theory.
So, with the kind of logic only sheer boredom could provide, you set up a pan, turned on the heat, and carefully placed the egg in.
The moment the pan got hot, the egg shuddered.
You barely had time to register that before a deep crack split the shell.
“Oh, fu—”
BOOM
A sudden explosion of dark energy sent you flying back, only for something much heavier to crash directly on top of you. You gasped as your back hit the floor, and a wave of heat radiated from the figure pinning you down.
Blinking through the daze, you found yourself staring up at a man—tall, broad, and very much not an egg.
“You… were trying to cook me?”
Instead of replying, you asked him multiple questions.
"Who are you?"
"Where did you come from?"
"Why were you in an egg?"
But all you got were vague, unsettling responses.
"I don't remember much" he admitted, adjusting the gloves on his hands. "Only that I was waiting... for you."
That didn't make you feel any less concerned.
After some back and forth—mostly you trying to make sense of things while he kept staring at you like you hung the stars—you decided he needed a bath. He was covered in remnants of whatever strange energy surrounded him when he hatched, and honestly, you needed a moment to process everything.
You directed him to the bath and handed him a towel and some spare clothes.
"You wish for me to cleanse myself?"
"Uh, yeah? Unless you want to keep smelling like a burnt egg."
"As you wish."
When he finally emerged from the bathroom, steam trailing behind him. His wet hair clung to his skin, and the loose clothing you lent him only made him look more dangerous, less armored but no less imposing.
However, your eyes quickly caught on to something—his hand. A fresh wound, jagged and slightly bleeding, marred his palm.
"Wait, you're hurt."
Before he could react, you grabbed a first-aid kit and motioned for him to sit. He obeyed surprisingly easily.
"You shouldn’t ignore injuries, you know." you muttered, wrapping the bandage snugly around his hand.
The entire time, he didn't flinch. If anything, his focus was solely on you.
"You care for me"
"Yeah, well, you did just hatch out of an egg in my kitchen."
As you finished bandaging his hand, your gaze drifted to his long, damp hair. It cascaded over his shoulders in dark waves.
"You should tie your hair up" you suggested, reaching for a hair tie. "It'll get in the way otherwise."
He studied you for a moment before giving a nod.
You weren’t expecting him to be so agreeable, but you took the chance to gather his hair and carefully tie it back.
Once done, you stepped back, admiring your work. "There. Much better."
He lifted a hand to touch his tied hair, then let out a hum of approval. "I’ll allow you to tend to me as you see fit."
You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, yeah, lucky me."
But deep down, you weren’t sure if bringing another person into your life was a good idea. Your job already kept you busy enough, and now you had to deal with… him.
For now, though, you decided he could stay. At least until you figured out what exactly he was.
Pulling out your phone, you quickly texted your best friend, Jollie.
You: Hey, uh… I just hatched a grown man from an egg.
Jollie’s reply was almost instant.
Jollie: I’m sorry, what.
You: Long story. He’s got long hair, and I tied it up, but you’d probably do a better job. Wanna come over later?
Jollie: I’m dropping everything. Be there soon.
You sighed, pocketing your phone. You had no idea how you were going to explain this, but at least you wouldn’t be dealing with it alone.
An hour later, Jollie arrived, practically bursting through the door.
"Alright, where’s the egg-man?" she demanded, hands on her hips.
You gestured toward Capitano, who sat stiffly in a chair, watching her with unwavering intensity. He had barely moved since you last spoke.
"Huh. Wasn't expecting him to be this tall."
"Yeah, well, try convincing him to let you cut his hair."
Jollie smirked and pulled out her scissors. "No problem. I deal with stubborn warriors all the time."
The moment she stepped closer, however, Capitano’s demeanor shifted. His eyes darkened, and his presence became suffocating. He didn’t move, but the threat was clear.
Jollie froze mid-step. "...Okay, never mind. Not a fan of personal space being invaded. Got it."
"Capitano-that's what he called himself-, she’s just going to clean up your hair." you said
His gaze flickered to you, and after a long pause, he finally relented. "...Fine."
Jollie sighed in relief and got to work, carefully trimming the ends to keep it neat without taking too much off. But the real shock came when she snipped a slightly longer piece—only for it to immediately grow back.
You gawked. "Wait, what?"
Jollie stepped back, staring at the scissors like they betrayed her. "Well, that’s new."
Capitano, completely unfazed, turned his attention back to you. "I prefer it when you tie my hair."
"...That doesn’t explain why it grew back instantly!"
"It just does."
Jollie let out a whistle. "Man, if I had hair like that, I’d never have to worry about bad hair days."
While she finished up, Capitano’s sharp eyes suddenly landed on the ring on her hand. He studied it for a moment before speaking.
"What is that?" He motioned toward the ring. "And where can I get one?"
Jollie blinked, then laughed. "This? It’s a wedding ring. It means I’m married."
Capitano turned to you, "...And if I wanted one?"
"What—"
Jollie smirked, already sensing way too much in his tone. "Oh? Thinking of proposing already?"
Capitano didn’t answer. He just kept his gaze on you, as if calculating something.
You groaned, covering your face. "I should’ve left you in the egg."
---
Being a chef meant you spent most of your time in the kitchen, away from the bustling tavern floor. You only stepped out when a guest specifically asked to meet the person behind their meal. Over time, you’d gathered a few fans—regulars who praised your cooking a little too enthusiastically. It was flattering, sure, but you never thought much of it.
Capitano, however, did.
You had insisted he stay home, especially since he still didn’t fully understand how things worked around here. But come evening, when Jollie arrived to pick you up after your shift, Capitano had tagged along.
A small group of guests had gathered around you near the kitchen entrance. One leaned a little too close, complimenting your skills with an almost flirtatious edge.
"You know, if you ever get tired of cooking here, I’d love to have a personal chef like you"
Another chimed in. "Seriously, your food alone is worth traveling back for. But the chef themself? Even better."
You laughed, waving off the comments. "Alright, alright, I get it. You like my food. Now eat before it gets cold."
That was when you felt it—an oppressive weight in the air.
Capitano was watching.
Jollie was the first to notice,"Uh, you might wanna do something before he commits a crime."
You turned just in time to see him striding forward.
The guests, oblivious to who exactly he was, paused as he loomed behind you.
Capitano's hand suddenly found your waist, pulling you firmly against him.
"You belong to me."
Jollie sighed, already sensing the storm brewing. "Welp. That’s my cue to drag him out before he starts growling."
The moment you stepped outside the tavern, Capitano was still brooding. His grip on your wrist hadn’t loosened since he practically dragged you away from the guests.
Jollie, walking beside you, let out an exhausted sigh. “You have to do something about him, or one day, we’re gonna find your guests mysteriously missing.”
“Alright, what the hell was that?”
“They were too close.”
“That’s not a crime, Capitano. People like my food. That’s it.”
“They like you.”
“Oh, wow, what a shocking revelation. People like the person who feeds them.” You yanked your wrist free and turned to face him fully. “Listen, I cannot have you acting like that in my workplace.”
“I work in the kitchen. That means I only come out when needed. If people start thinking I have some jealous, looming bodyguard around, it’s gonna ruin everything. What if my boss bans me from interacting with guests? What if people stop coming?”
You didn't finish.
“And if that happens? We starve. I lose my job, I can’t buy food, and you can’t mooch off my cooking anymore.”
For once, that actually made him pause.
Jollie snickered. “You should’ve just led with that. Man eats like he’s preparing for war.”
You crossed your arms. “So? Are you gonna stop being like that?”
“...I don’t like them looking at you.”
“You don’t have to like it. You just have to tolerate it.”
“…Fine.”
Jollie gave you an impressed nod. “Damn. You actually tamed him.”
“Let’s just get home before he finds something else to be mad about.”
That night, as always, Capitano laid beside you, his hand firmly clasped around yours. You had no idea why he insisted on holding your hand in his sleep, but the few times you tried to pull away, he would stir, grip tightening as if you were the only thing anchoring him. Eventually, you just gave up and let it happen.
Jollie, of course, was horrified when she found out.
“You what?” she practically screeched when you mentioned it the next morning.
“It’s not like that! He just—he won’t sleep unless I’m there.”
Jollie gave you the most skeptical look. “Oh sure, totally normal. Just a grown man who hatched from an egg refusing to sleep unless he’s holding your hand.”
“I tried to sleep separately, but he wouldn’t let go.”
Jollie sighed, shaking her head. “This guy is down bad.”
You ignored her teasing, but you did realize something—Capitano still didn’t have proper clothes. Up until now, you’d just been giving him whatever you could gather—old clothes from friends, random pieces from your closet. He didn’t seem to care what he wore, but still, you figured it was time to fix that.
So, on your next free day, you took him shopping.
The marketplace was lively, filled with stalls of various goods, but you were focused on getting Capitano real clothes. You led him to a clothing stall, where a gorgeous woman greeted you with a warm smile.
“Welcome! Looking for something specific?”
You paused, briefly stunned. Wow. She’s hot.
You glanced at Capitano, then back at the woman. Wait. Wouldn’t they look good together?
Grinning, you nudged him. “Hey… you like her, huh?”
He said nothing. Didn’t even glance her way. Instead, he just stood there, waiting.
“Wow. Tough crowd.”
Shrugging, you began picking out clothes for him. Every time you held something up, he took it without complaint and changed into it. You threw jackets, shirts, pants at him, fully expecting him to reject something—but he wore everything you recommended without hesitation.
The shopkeeper laughed. “Most guys are picky, but he’s letting you dress him up like a doll.”
“You’re really just gonna wear whatever I tell you to?”
“If it pleases you.”
After a long shopping trip, you finally settled on a decent outfit for Capitano. A dark coat with fitted sleeves, a high-collared shirt, and well-tailored pants—it suited him.
You gave him a once-over. “Huh. You actually look… handsome, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“Don’t push it.”
With that done, you figured things would return to normal—well, as normal as they could be with an egg-man living in your home. But something kept nagging at you.
His wound.
Ever since you first bandaged his hand, it hadn’t healed. You had to change the bandages often, and while he never complained, it was weird. Even small cuts should’ve at least started closing by now.
As you carefully replaced the bandage that evening, you frowned. “This should be gone by now.”
“It does not pain me.”
“That’s not the point. Why isn’t it healing?”
He was silent for a long moment before murmuring, “I don’t know.”
“Are you sure?”
“I don’t remember.”
Something about the way he said it made you question if that was true—or if he was just refusing to tell you.
----
At first, having an intern wasn’t so bad. Lirienne was quick to learn, efficient, and didn’t need much guidance. You figured training her would be easy—maybe even helpful in the long run.
What you didn’t know was that she had other plans.
She wasn’t here to assist you. She wanted to replace you.
Of course, you didn’t notice at first. You were busy keeping the kitchen running, ensuring everything was perfect. But Capitano? He noticed.
He had already become your unofficial shadow, lingering around the kitchen even when he wasn’t supposed to.
And that’s how he caught on.
“Lirienne, be more careful next time. If I hadn’t caught that in time, the dish would’ve been ruined.”
She bowed her head slightly, expression apologetic. “I’m so sorry! I don’t know how that happened. It won’t happen again.”
You sighed, waving it off. “It’s fine, just focus.”
Lirienne was careful, never making obvious mistakes, but Capitano saw the small things. Ingredients placed too close to the fire. Unstable stacks of plates positioned near the edge of counters. Subtle miscalculations in orders that could be blamed on you.
She was setting you up.
And though you remained oblivious, Capitano was already planning how to deal with her.
“She’s setting you up.”
You paused mid-motion, turning to him. “What?”
“The intern.” His voice was certain. “She’s creating accidents and letting you take the blame.”
“That’s ridiculous. Why would she—”
“To take your place.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but the way he looked at you made you hesitate. Capitano wasn’t the type to make baseless accusations.
“Do you trust me?”
Capitano had been by your side since the day he hatched. He didn’t lie. If he said something, he meant it.
“…Yes” you admitted.
“Then be careful.”
You wanted to believe Lirienne was just clumsy. That she was just adjusting to the kitchen.
But if Capitano was right, then this was only the beginning.
Days passed, and despite Capitano’s warning, you tried to convince yourself that things weren’t that bad. Sure, Lirienne was suspicious, but outright trying to sabotage you? Maybe Capitano was being overprotective.
That illusion shattered the night you were walking home.
The streets were quieter than usual, the distant hum of taverns and late-night chatter fading as you took your usual route. You were halfway there when two men stepped out of a nearby alley, blocking your path.
You stopped “Can I help you?”
They didn’t answer. One of them took a slow step forward, cracking his knuckles.
“You’re the chef from that tavern, yeah?”
You took a cautious step back, but before you could turn, they lunged.
And then—a blur of movement. A rush of wind.
The next thing you knew, a broom had swung through the air, slamming into one of the men’s heads with enough force to send him stumbling. The second man barely had time to react before Capitano spun the broom in his hands like a trained weapon, jabbing the handle hard into his stomach. The man doubled over with a wheeze before Capitano kicked him to the ground.
The first guy tried to reach for a hidden knife. Capitano didn’t give him the chance. With a sharp twirl, the broom’s bristles smacked him across the face, sending him crashing onto the pavement.
“Are you hurt?”
“You—with a broom?”
He looked down at the slightly crooked handle, then back at you. “It was within reach.”
These guys weren’t random muggers. They knew who you were.
And if Capitano hadn’t been here…
Capitano didn’t need to hear you say it—he knew what you were thinking. He could see it in the way your hands clenched, in the furrow of your brow.
You were worried. And that was unacceptable.
So, while you slept that night, completely unaware, Capitano made his move.
Stalking wasn’t new to him. Tracking someone’s habits, their movements, their weaknesses—it was as natural to him as breathing. Lirienne was no different. She was arrogant, thinking she could eliminate you without consequences.
Getting into her home was easy. He could’ve ended it right then and there. But that wasn’t enough. No, she needed to suffer.
So he made it look like a robbery. Tossed her belongings, shattered a few things. Let her wake up to a scene of chaos before he moved to the next step.
Her close friends—anyone she might rely on—received anonymous threats. Carefully crafted blackmail, things that made them too scared to associate with her.
By the time Lirienne realized she was being hunted, it was too late. Capitano had already buried her in paranoia.
With Lirienne gone, things returned to normal—or at least, as normal as they could be. Your worries faded, and you could finally focus on your job without looking over your shoulder.
One evening, after a long shift, you decided to take Capitano out for a drink. It had been a while since you both relaxed.
But when you got home, you found him asleep on the couch, the dim glow of the TV flickering across his face.
You sighed, shaking your head fondly. Big scary man, knocked out on the couch like a cat in a sunbeam.
Grabbing the remote, you turned off the TV. At first, you thought you imagined it. But then he mumbled again, voice low, almost pained.
“Don’t… leave…”
You crouched beside him, watching as his brows furrowed ever so slightly. His breathing was steady, but his body was tense—like even in his sleep, he was holding onto something.
You hesitated before reaching out, placing a hand on his. His grip relaxed slightly, and his shoulders eased.
You swallowed. Maybe… taking him out for a drink could wait.
You stayed crouched beside him, watching his sleeping face, his quiet breaths filling the silence.
Then, just as you were about to pull your hand away—
“…Failed… again…”
Failed? Again?
That—didn’t sound like something he would say. Capitano wasn’t the type to speak of failure. He carried himself with unwavering confidence, like a man who never wavered.
So what was he dreaming about?
Your thoughts were cut short as his breathing shifted, deeper now, heavier. His fingers twitched again before his eyes fluttered open.
For a moment, he just stared at the ceiling. Then, slowly, his gaze drifted to you.
“…You’re awake”
“You’re still here.”
“Where else would I be?” you scoffed lightly, trying to shake the strange feeling. “C’mon, you’re sleeping on the couch again. Let’s get you to bed.”
As you led him to the bedroom, you couldn’t help but glance back at him.
Failed again.
Failed what?
The words lingered in your mind long after Capitano had fallen asleep again, this time properly in bed. You sat on the edge, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest, trying to piece together what it meant.
Capitano had no memories of his past—at least, that’s what he claimed. But sometimes, things slipped through the cracks. Little moments, little murmurs. You hadn’t questioned them before, thinking they were just remnants of something long gone.
But now?
You couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling in your gut.
Had he been someone before? Was there something he wasn’t telling you—or worse, something he didn’t even remember himself?
Carefully, you reached out, tracing your fingers over his bandaged hand. The wound that never healed. Another mystery.
Maybe it was time to start looking for answers.
The next morning, you woke up with Capitano’s hand still in yours. At some point in the night, he had shifted closer.
You needed answers.
But where would you even start?
Capitano didn’t remember much—or at least, that’s what he said. And you doubted he would suddenly recall everything if you just asked him outright. But there had to be something to go off.
The wound that wouldn’t heal. The way his hair grew back instantly. The strange strength and reflexes he showed when he fought off those men. Even the way he had hatched from that egg instead of being born normally—everything about him was unnatural.
And yet, he didn’t seem concerned about it.
You exhaled, slowly slipping your hand from his. As much as you wanted to shake him awake and demand answers, you knew that wasn’t going to work.
So instead, you would do what you did best—observe.
That day, you started paying closer attention.
You watched how Capitano moved, how he interacted with the world around him. He didn’t seem lost or confused like someone who had lost their memory—he carried himself with the confidence of a man who knew who he was.
But sometimes, little things slipped.
Like how he instinctively reached for a weapon he didn’t have when startled. Or how he watched battles with an almost detached familiarity, as if he had seen a thousand of them before.
And then there was the way he spoke.
You had never really thought about it before, but Capitano’s words—his mannerisms—felt old. Like he wasn’t just from another place, but another time.
You couldn’t ignore it anymore.
That evening, as you bandaged his hand yet again, you finally spoke.
“…What do you think you failed at?”
His eyes met yours. “What?”
You hesitated, but there was no point in backing down now. “You said something in your sleep. Failed again.”
His grip on the edge of the table tightened slightly. “…I don’t remember.”
“Capitano,” you murmured, tightening the last part of the bandage. “If there’s something I should know, just tell me.”
“…If I had failed, would you leave me?”
“What?”
“If I was a failure,” he repeated, voice quieter this time, “would you still stay?”
You didn’t know what he had failed at—what his past even was. But looking at him now, waiting for your answer like it mattered more than anything, you knew one thing for sure.
“…You’re not a failure to me.”
“…Then that’s enough.”
It wasn’t the answer you wanted. It didn’t explain anything. But for now, it was all he was willing to give.
-----
The moment you got the news, everything around you blurred into nothing.
Jollie was dead.
You didn’t remember how you got home. Your feet carried you there, but your mind wasn’t present. The words repeated in your head over and over, but they refused to make sense. She was just here. She was supposed to visit soon. We were supposed to talk again. She can’t be...
You locked the door behind you and didn’t leave.
You ignored your phone, the messages piling up, the calls that went unanswered. Eating, working, even moving—none of it mattered. The weight in your chest was suffocating, pressing down until you couldn’t breathe.
The kitchen felt cold. The thought of stepping inside, of cooking anything, felt wrong. Jollie had been the one person who always demanded a taste test, who teased you about your "serious chef face" while you worked. Without her, even your passion felt empty.
Capitano stayed.
He didn’t leave your side, not even once. He didn’t force you to talk, didn’t try to shake you out of it. He just remained—a quiet, unmoving figure watching over you.
Even when you curled up in bed, staring blankly at the wall, he was there. When you sat at the table without touching your food, he stood nearby. And when the grief finally cracked, when the tears came without warning, his hand found yours, firm and grounding.
Jollie was gone. And you didn’t know how to move forward.
Capitano had never been one to sit idly by.
Watching you waste away in your grief, locked inside, refusing to eat, to move—it was unacceptable. If you couldn’t pull yourself out of it, then he would do it for you.
And that meant finding the truth.
Jollie’s death wasn’t random. Capitano could feel it in his bones—there was something off about it.
His first step was gathering information. People talked, especially when they thought no one important was listening. Capitano stalked the streets at night, blending into the shadows, eavesdropping in places you wouldn’t dare step foot in.
And soon enough, the pieces started falling into place.
Jollie’s husband.
A man drowning in debt. A man who had more than one mistress tucked away in secret corners of the city. A man who had everything to lose if Jollie ever decided to leave him and take what little wealth they had left.
Capitano dug deeper.
The debts weren’t small. The lenders he owed money to weren’t the forgiving type. If he didn’t pay, he wouldn’t live long enough to see another day.
And then, there it was—the final piece. Capitano uncovered the exchange. The bribe. The order.
Jollie’s husband had arranged it himself. Paid to have her eliminated.
Once Capitano had everything he needed, he didn’t act immediately. No—he brought you with him.
You had resisted at first, still drained, still lost in your grief. But he didn’t give you a choice. He made you come, guiding you through the dark streets until you arrived at a secluded meeting spot.
There, Jollie’s husband was waiting.
The proof was laid out before you. The debts. The mistresses. The transaction. Everything that led to Jollie’s death.
You could hardly breathe.
“You decide” Capitano told you, “What happens to him?”
You wanted to hate him. Wanted to scream, to lash out. But in the end, you couldn’t bring yourself to be cruel.
“…Just turn him in” you whispered. “Let the authorities deal with him.”
Capitano stared at you for a long moment before nodding. Without another word, he took you home.
You thought it was over. You thought you had done the right thing, made the right choice.
But Capitano knew better.
Men like Jollie’s husband didn’t deserve mercy.
And so, later that night, without your knowledge, Capitano paid him a final visit.
By morning, Jollie’s husband was gone. No one would ever find the body.
And you?
You would never know.
For the first time in what felt like forever, you could breathe again.
Jollie was gone, and that pain would never truly fade—but knowing the truth, knowing she was free from the man who betrayed her, brought a strange sense of peace.
Capitano stood beside you. He had done more than just watch over you—he had acted. He had carried you through your darkest moment without hesitation.
And as the weight on your chest finally lightened, Capitano made a silent vow to himself.
From this day forward, he would stay by your side. To protect you. To ensure your happiness. To be the one constant you could rely on.
Jollie may have left a void, but Capitano would make sure you were never alone again.
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lewisvinga · 11 months ago
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his lucky charm | carlos sainz x fem! reader / daughter
summary; even during the most stressful moments of football, carlos needs his good luck charm, his 6 month old daughter, in his arms.
word count; 630
warnings; ? idk pero hala madrid siempreeee
taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03
note; [requests are closed] I HAD TO DO THIS😫 i’m weak for madridista carlos and i saw a video of a guy holding his daughter while watching benzema score a penalty and it reminded me of carlos ! but also, el clásico win tdy w bellingol winner tho🤭🤭🤭
masterlist !
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
“Carlos, you know you can set her down in her crib, right?” Y/n asked again for the second time in 10 minutes, looking at the sleeping baby in her husband's arms.
“Ahorita no, mi amor.” [not now, my love] Carlos quickly shushed his wife as he kept his eyes on the screen.
Sometime around the second half, he had picked up little Catalina in hopes it would calm down his nerves over the Real Madrid and Manchester City match. However, when the match went into overtime, his nerves just became worse.
He was so nervous that he couldn’t help but rock back and forth which made his daughter fall into a deep slumber in his arms. It made Y/n laugh to herself. She was a fan of the Madrid-based team but not to the extent of Carlos who lives and breathes Real Madrid.
Her father-in-law even made a joke once that the Sainz’s bleed white, the team's official color. Sure, she was nervous because it was a knockout match for the top competition of club football but not nervous to the extent of her husband.
“Carlos, I really think you should put Catalina down before-“
“She’s my good luck charm!” Carlos exclaimed, holding the 6-month-old close to his chest. She even was wearing the white Real Madrid kit his father gifted them when she was born, making her even more of a ‘good luck charm’
Y/n playfully rolls her eyes at her husband's antics. She gets up to go to the kitchen to grab her phone and a bottle of water. When she walked back to the living room, she saw him biting his fingernails and kneeling on the floor instead of sitting on the couch.
“Carlos, what are you…” Her voice trailed off. She wore a confused expression as he held a now awake Catalina in one hand and the other hand kept running through his hair.
“Penalties, mi amor! Penalties!”
Y/n sat back down on the couch and held her phone up so she could record his reactions. They were down to the last penalty, the 5th one. If Real Madrid made it then that means they would pass.
Even Catalina, who doesn’t even understand what is going on, was focused on the screen as #22 for the Madrid-based team took his spot. Y/n noticed her husband holding his breath as the player swung his leg back and kicked the ball. The ball makes it in causing her husband to let out a cheer.
Carlos immediately stands up to his feet and holds Catalina out. “Mi gatita! Ganamos! Vamos a los semifinales!” [my little cat! we won! we’re going to the semifinals!] He loudly exclaimed to his 6 month old daughter who gurgled in reply. “Te dije, Y/n! [i told you] She’s our lucky charm!”
He holds her close and leaves kisses all over her chubby cheeks. Catalina squeals at the sensation of her father's beard scratching her face. She plants her hands on his face as he continues to kiss her, letting out fits of giggles.
Y/n’s heart melted at the interaction between her husband and their daughter. She knew he’d make the best girl dad the moment she found out she was pregnant. She was right, he is the best girl dad.
She couldn’t help but burst out into laughter when she heard Carlos start to sing the anthem of Real Madrid to Catalina who kept gurgling at her father's antics.
Y/n stood recording and quickly uploaded the video of her husband and daughter to Instagram, captioning it ‘a Madridista and his lucky charm🤍 hala madrid!’. She knew people would immediately fawn over their favorite driver cheering to his daughter, but for now, she was just enjoying the show he was giving with his not-so-perfect singing.
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februarysmoonlight · 2 days ago
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not today, maybe tomorrow
aka your childhood best friend (and crush) came back… different.
———
you’ve been patching up jason for a long time.
it started when you were both just kids. he’d come to you with the injuries he didn’t want to show his father, and you, who had experience in patching people up, were happy to help. mostly you were eager to spend any time with him he would give, even if that meant brutal gunshots and ugly stab wounds. you refused to admit to yourself that you had a ginormous crush on him— but you did. it was a secret that sat on your chest like an elephant: you are in love with jason todd.
then he died, and that excitement became grief. you became a nurse, fixing people up for a living because it was the only thing you were really good at. you spent years just… stuck. stuck on him, stuck in the past, stuck wishing he didn’t die.
and then jason came back, and it was just different.
the first time, he stumbled in through your apartment window, bleeding buckets from a bullet lodged in his shoulder. he failed to come to you as red hood (because you pointed a tiny little revolver at him and he was in no position to leave), so you were the first one who saw him as jason. still, he refused to say a word. not when you cried so hard your hands shook, not in the hours you spent fixing him up, not when you begged him to stay, to come back.
you didn’t see him after that for nearly six months. you were starting to think it was a dream. you had all but convinced yourself the blood on your windowsill came from your own hands, that this version of jason was a cruel manifestation of just how much you missed him.
but it happened again, and again, his visits growing more frequent as time went on. before, he only came to you when he was circling the drain. now all it takes is a deep cut in the arm for him to request aid from your gentle hands. he spoke almost exclusively in its better than it looks, and thank you’s, but at least he spoke.
you hate this arrangement. you really do. you want jason, all of him, your friend, and the boy you loved back. you want him to actually speak, talk to you like he’s your friend and not your patient. you’re tired of being woken up in the middle of the night to put a bandaid on his injuries. you’re tired of dropping everything to get nothing in return. but what’s the alternative? losing him? not when you just got him back.
not when you love him so much. so much your chest hurts when you think about what would happen if you asked for more.
but it’s draining. being jason’s on call personal doctor— no matter how much you care about him, you’re not sure how much you have left in you.
“my therapist said i need to start saying no to you. put myself first.” you say, pulling the thread through jason’s wound, sewing it closed.
“smart lady. you should listen to her.” he says, flickering his eyes up to yours.
“you wouldn’t come back if i stopped sewing you up.”
“that’s not true.”
you don’t respond to that. it’s too vulnerable, the way his eyes chase yours while you stare down at the gash on his arm, running a sewing needle back and forth through his skin. you don’t know what to think, it’s far too late and you’re far too tired to have any idea what it is you want from him.
you’re scared. scared that if you stop doing this for him you’ll lose him all over again. scared that you’re nothing more than a private medic. scared that the moment you ask for more than 2 am visits and blood stained carpets you’ll get left behind.
he sighs, pulling you out of your head just as you finish the last stitch. you cut the thread with a pair of grooming scissors, tying a small knot to keep everything in place. you look up at him, noting the frown firmly tugging at his features, and the defeated expression in his eye.
“you’re good to go.” you say, leaning back, putting your supplies back into your first aid kit, wiping the blood on your hands against the white box.
“thank you.”
he stands with a small groan, slipping back into his costume. you focus on cleaning up, refusing to look up at him as he walks back towards the window where he came, his combat boots scraping against the floor.
“i’ll come back.” he says, quietly, with his hands hooked under the windowsill.
sure you will you think, but instead you simply nod, keeping your eyes trained on the blood stains in your carpet. you know if you look back up at him the tears stinging your eyes will spill, and you’ll lose the scraps of jason you’re so determined to keep.
he sighs, pushing himself through the window, and just like that, he’s gone. just like the first time, the only confirmation you have that he is real are the droplets of blood running down your fingertips.
you wait for him to come back. one hour, one night, one week. you feel stupid, hoping so desperately he’ll come when you know he won’t. at least, not without a near-fatal wound you have to magically heal. anxiety overwhelms any thoughts of him— did you scare him off? was that moment too much for him?
you feel like such an idiot, that is, until he returns. you don’t expect it to be him when you open the door. because it’s only six p.m and he’s… at the door… and not breaking and entering through your window…
but, to your surprise, it’s him.
jason, who isn’t making eye contact and you can only assume it has something to do with how absolutely rigid his stance is. jason, who is white knuckling a bouquet of lilies with one hand and a bag of takeout from your favorite guilty pleasure restaurant with the other. you didn’t realize he remembered your favorites, not after all this time.
“ah- shit.” he says, looking up at you with those ice blue eyes. this is the first time in… you can’t even remember how long that he’s come to you just as jason, no red hood attached.
“jason?” you ask, your eyebrows knitting unconsciously together. he looks back down, mumbling something along the lines of i look like a jackass.
“i’m late.” he says, looking back up to you. you swallow down a wad of spit that resembles your overwhelming anxiety. you can feel the crush that you can never seem to kick bubbling up again, fighting to spill over the surface, as your eyes go back and forth from the flowers, the food, and him.
you nod, staring at him blankly, unsure of what to expect. he awkwardly shoves the bouquet towards you, taking a breath.
“i told you i’d come back.” he says, while you take the flowers from his hand. it’s not a cheap grocery store bouquet either, the flowers are fresh and perky, arranged professionally with baby’s breath, the stems cut carefully at an angle.
you look up at him, gently bringing the lilies to your nose. “are you hurt?” you ask, because honestly, you’re confused as to why jason would be here without a knife jammed in his back.
he grimaces, shaking his head. “no, i— fuck. i’m fine, i just— i wanted to say… look, i’m sorry.”
your eyes widen. you lower the flowers and press them against your stomach, confused and nervous and excited all at once. “…for?” you prompt, tilting your head.
he sighs, forcing the words out like it’s the hardest thing he’s ever done. “i’ve been a real asshole. i, uh… i should’ve been treating you better, y’know, not waking you up ‘cause i’m bleeding just enough to get to see you. not leaving you behind over and over.” he omits the part that some nights he’s less careful than others because he wants to see you so badly it hurts. “‘cause…” he starts, taking a deep breath. “i really care about you. and it took me way too long to get my head out of my ass and realize you deserve better. and a week ago, that meant getting the hell out of your life before i ruined it. today that means doing everything i can to make it up to you.”
your heart beats faster than you can bare, your eyes wide. you feel like you’re falling, your stomach doing somersaults as he speaks. just about everything you’ve wanted him to say just fell from his lips, and you don’t know what to say in return.
luckily, he’s not done.
“i brought you the food and the flowers, ‘cause i didn’t want to spring too much on you. i figured i’d wait for you to decide whether or not you hate me before i ask you out on a proper date.” he says, looking up at you.
oh.
now it’s your turn to speak. you don’t know what to say— you’re on cloud nine because the boy you’ve had a crush on for nearly a decade is asking you out. all you can do is look up at him like a complete idiot, while his expression grows more and more nervous.
“would you like to come in?” you ask, finally pushing the words out, praying you don’t sound too gleeful.
for the first time in years, you see him smile. part of its relief, that much you know, but there’s this unfamiliar look in his eye that tells you it’s much, much more. he relaxes, letting his shoulders fall back.
“lead the way.”
———
pause i just want to thank y’all SO MUCH for all the love on my previous fics. i’ve had this acc for like a week and i am so grateful for all of the notes and reblogs and people who have been so kind as to follow me !! this account really is just to force me to write and like… have hobbies so y’all interacting means so much <3 i hope you enjoyed this one !! tysm!!
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neo-novaa · 2 years ago
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SMUT!!! 16+
thinking about reader tending to miguel after a late night of swinging around and saving the city. thinking about how he’d come home, just before dawn, his suit ripped in places and stained crimson in others.
thinking about how you can’t sleep without him, and he knows this, and it doesn’t surprise him when he sees you wide awake, standing in the middle of your shared apartment.
and it only takes you a second before you’re bringing him into the bathroom, trying your best to pull off the suit and avoid the weeping cuts and flowering bruises all across his body. you know he should take the next night off— you know he wont.
the first aid kit is sitting out on the counter. you put it there after a sinking feeling that he’d come home with more than just bruises.
and you couldn’t be any further from being a medical professional, but you know enough in order to take care of miguel.
you know how to sew up the deepest cuts and ice the darkest bruises, you knew which brands of numbing cream worked on him and how much ibuprofen he'd have to take tonight. you’ve been at this for almost a year; you knew his body better than he did.
for as fucked up of a situation this was — your boyfriend coming home at 4:26am and covered in blood, half of which not belonging to him — it’s one of the rare times that miguel surrenders himself to you.
in moments like this, he trusts you completely. he’s relaxing his body and letting you take the reins: you tell him what to do, how to do it, and when it should be done. everything you say is littered with quiet “please?” and every time he listens you give him a softer “thank you”
soon enough he’s covered in gauze and thread and neosporin, and those gentle touches to find out where else he’s hurt start to turn more paced— more articulated. cool fingertips brushing against his warm skin, asking him “does it hurt here?” on his shoulder, his cheek, and finally, his lips.
you kiss him, and you’re gentle with him. you are so, so gentle with him, a stark contrast from the way he can get with you: all tooth and tongue, as if he’s fighting for something.
sometimes, it ends there. it ends with miguel scooping you up, laying you down in your shared bed, and running a warm hand down your spine until you’re able to fall asleep.
sometimes, it doesn’t end there: sometimes you keep going. sometimes your hands wander and wander and get lost in his hair and his scars and his skin until his hands find their way to your waist. his grip is firm as he rocks you back and forth on his thigh, whispering a perfect balance of praise and filth into your ear. 
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inkluvs · 2 years ago
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okay so there are those kits where you can make a mold of your dick so you can make a dildo out of it. eddie would definitely make you a dildo of his dick and gift it to you for a birthday or smth
okay. so. i’ve been staring at this for a while and trying to form a coherent thought and this is what i came up with. also @taintedcigs proofread this <3 <3
omg imagine he puts the dildo in a pretty little box and you’re opening all the presents you’ve gotten and you go to open that one and eddie’s like. let’s maybe open that one later yeah? and you’re like. 🤨🤨🤨. but you say okay anyways and carry on but obv that voice in your head is wondering what it could possibly be. like you’re trying to remember the weight of the box in your hand and trying to match it up to anything eddie might have mentioned ever. but you have no luck <//3 so instead as soon as the last person leaves you run to find the pink box where you’d left it, only to realize eddie’d taken it with him to your room, an easy smile on his lips as he handed it you, “open it babe” and so you do, and your eyes widen as soon as you see the silicon of the dildo, pulling it out and staring at it, speechless until you start to gather the similarities. the slight bump on the underside of the silicone that would've been the prominent vain on eddie's cock, the way it curved ever so slightly, the same way as his. in fact the more you turned it around in your hands the more there seemed to be similarities between the silicone and eddie’s cock. “can i?” you tug at the waistband of his jeans and he nods enthusiastically. you pull his cock out and stare at it for a moment, your eyes flicking back and forth between the toy and him before smiling, “they’re the same” “mhm” “you made this?” “yeah,” “d’you wanna use it?”
15 minutes later you find yourself whimpering and whining at the hands of eddie, your slick coating the pink silicone and leaking onto eddie’s hand <3 <3
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allthingsfangirl101 · 2 months ago
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Unlikely Hero – Tyler Owens
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Tyler's POV
The second I saw her, I put on my annoyed face. Y/N and I have constantly crossed paths. While I chase tornados, Y/N chases to collect weather data. The first time I met her we almost ran into each other. Literally.
Our truck was racing to follow a tornado. Y/N's van was following it for data collection. After our almost accident, we both pulled over and got into a bit of a screaming match. We weren't fully screaming at each other: just bitter insults and sarcastic comebacks.
Because of our argument, we both missed the tornado. When we drove away, I kept thinking about how fiery Y/N was. There was a brief moment where all I wanted to do was put her fieriness to good use.
Over the years, we've run into each other constantly. My group, her group, and my fans think we hate each other. That's not completely true. I find myself watching her van go, hoping that they are safe. After a storm, I often searched for her to make sure she made it out.
"Well well well," she scoffed. I smirked as she folded her arms over her chest. "If it isn't the famous YouTube Storm Chaser. He only does it for the fame."
"And here's Miss Weather Expert who thinks she can do this through her little numbers," I shot back. "She'd leave a town behind, only focused on her data. And people call me selfish."
"Which means you're going to be stealing my statistics in your little videos and making it seem like you're the genius," she said without hesitation. She patted me on the shoulder as she walked away. I couldn't help but watch her head up to her motel room, wishing I was going with her.
"You ever going to get past this back and forth and just ask the girl out?" Boone teased me. I sent him a glare before pretending to get something out of the truck. I didn't want him to see how much I wish I had the guts to actually ask Y/N out.
I was torn away from my regret and self-loathing when all of our phones started going off. I grabbed it and saw the Tornado Warning. Just then, I heard Y/N's door open. I watched as she ran down the stairs and jogged to her van all while giving her team instructions.
My breath got caught in my throat when Y/N stopped and made eye contact with me. She sent me a small smile.
"Stay safe, Chaser," she said gently.
"You too, Numbers."
* * * * *
The storm passed and we started heading toward the nearest safety base. The town was destroyed. The tornado ripped right through it. As we drove through the streets, we kept our eyes on the rubble, looking for any sign of survivors.
My stomach flipped as soon as my eyes landed on Y/N's team's van on its side. I slammed on the brakes and threw the truck into park. I ignored my team as I hopped out and ran toward the van. I looked through the window but nothing. I started scanning the area, looking for any sign of Y/N.
"Tyler!" Boone yelled as he chased after me. "We gotta get these kits to the. . . Holy shit. Isn't that Y/N's van?"
"Yeah," I said, my heart in my throat. "We gotta find her."
I left him and started searching the area for any sign of Y/N. The longer it took to find her, the more frantic the search became. Suddenly, I finally caught a glimpse of someone under a piece of metal.
"Y/N!" I yelled as I ran over to her. I ran over and instantly started trying to lift it.
"Boone! I need some help over here!"
He ran to my side and helped me lift it. Some of the others ran over and helped us hold the piece of metal. Once they had a good hold on it, I let it go and started to get Y/N out. I gently and slowly pulled Y/N out from under the metal, trying desperately hard not to worsen her injuries.
I got her far enough away from the metal and pulled her into my arms. I scanned her body, instantly seeing scratches, blood, and bruises covering her body. I reached forward and carefully moved some hair out of her face.
Boone appeared at my side and looked at Y/N over my shoulder. "Is she. . ."
"I don't know," I cut him off. "We need to get her to the hospital. Now."
I stood up, carefully with her in my arms. I had Boone drive as I sat in the back with Y/N's head resting on my lap. I kept running my fingers through her hair as Boone drove quickly toward the nearest hospital.
When we pulled up to the hospital, nurses came rushing out. I didn't want to hand her over so I carried her out of the truck. They started to take her from me but I stopped.
"Tyler," Boone said gently. "They can help her."
I finally let them take her but followed close behind. Boone held me back as they took her past the waiting room. He patted my shoulder and led me over to some chairs. I nervously bounced my knee, unable to sit still.
We were in the emergency room for hours before a doctor came to talk to us.
"How is she?" I asked as I stood up.
"We stopped some internal bleeding and made sure her broken ribs didn't puncture her lung," the doctor nodded.
"So, she's going to be okay, right?" Boone asked.
"I want her to stay here for a couple of days so we can keep an eye on her," the doctor nodded, "but she should make a full recovery."
"Can I see her?"
"She's still coming out of the anesthesia, but you can wait in her room."
* * * * *
I stayed by her bedside, waiting eagerly for her to wake up. Every time she moved, I flinched. Whenever a nurse came to check her vitals, I kept a close eye on her, wanting nothing more than to see her eyes scowling at me.
I was wide awake for hours. I wanted to be awake when she finally woke up. Not as soon as I would've liked, I heard her let out a small whimper. I held my breath, waiting for her to wake up.
"Y/N," I whispered, her name getting caught in my throat.
"Tyler?" Her voice was so soft it killed me. "What are you. . . What happened?"
"The storm hit your van," I gently tried to explain. "You were thrown from it. I found you."
"Wait," she cut me off. "You found me?"
"Yeah," I said, unable to look away from her eyes. "We were heading back to the school to drop off some meals, but I saw your van."
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"For what?" I asked, scooting closer to her.
"You're late to drop off those meals."
I shook my head and laughed. "I know," I teased her. "Never thought I'd abandon the needy for my archenemy. But I couldn't ignore the fact that I can hold this over your head for years."
"Such a gentlemen," she scoffed.
My teasing smirk dropped. Unable to hide it any longer, I gently grabbed her face and pressed my lips to hers. She let out a small moan as she started to kiss me back. As our lips moved in sync, my mind went to what it looked like when I found her. The image of her stuck and unconscious made me break the kiss.
"Don't do that to me again," I whispered as I leaned my forehead against hers. "Please don't let me think I'm going to lose you. I couldn't bear it."
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "We were just trying to get to the school down the street. I was trying to stop being selfish and help the people. Like you guys do."
My heart sank when her voice broke. "I never should have called you selfish," I said gently. "I always thought our little back-and-forth was fun and flirty. I didn't mean to go too far."
"You didn't," she tried to soothe as she grabbed my hands. "I always hoped your snappy comments were you secretly trying to tell me you liked me."
"They were," I said quickly. "They absolutely were."
Y/N smiled when I leaned in and kissed her again. She broke the kiss with her signature playful smirk. "As much as I love our back and forth, can we maybe be a little nicer to each other now that we're. . ."
"Together?"
"Are we?" She asked, her voice dropping. I leaned in and gently kissed her.
"I'd like to be, Numbers," I whispered. She let out a soft giggle.
"Me too, Chaser."
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theemporium · 9 months ago
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how about a number 8 you're mai tai with lando norris x non famous!reader
and
a number 37 smut-berry daiquiri with max verstappen
thanks cece, once again congrats on 10k, love love love your fics.
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
8. shielding the other one with their body
.
You knew Silverstone was going to be insane since it was Lando’s home race.
Though your relationship with Lando wasn’t new, attending his races and being seen around the paddock were. Lando had respected your desire to keep the relationship private, even if it made it a little harder with the distance between you both during the season. But it was worth it. 
You were worth it. 
It wasn’t until a year or so into the relationship where you began making appearances in the paddock. You never showed up with Lando, trying to keep the least amount of attention on you but it didn’t take long for fans to start to pick up on the links between you both. 
But Silverstone was different. 
It was his first home race you were actually attending since the two of you started dating and you couldn’t say no to the excited look on his face when he asked you to attend. He wanted to share this experience with you, with the girl he was pretty sure he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. 
He just wished the experience didn’t include almost getting stampeded by fans.  
It happened far too fast for either you or Lando to fully realise what was happening. You were trying to make your way to the paddock entrance, passes in hand as you were approaching the turnstiles. 
But then a large group of fans appeared out of nowhere and screams broke out and suddenly there were so many people around you. They were shoving you back and forth, left and right, you didn’t know which direction was what. You didn’t know where Lando was.
Your breathing was starting to pick up, your heart was racing and your whole body was freezing up under panic as you realised you didn’t even know how to get out of the crowd. You couldn’t even bring yourself to call out to Lando, to anyone for help. You were frozen.
You smelt him before you even saw him.
You smelt Lando’s cologne overwhelming you as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. You could feel him yelling as his chest vibrated under your cheek but your hearing was muffled and you couldn’t quite work out what he was saying. 
All you knew was that you were in Lando’s arms and you knew he would keep you safe. 
He didn’t pull away until you were in the McLaren motorhome (not that you really remember how you got there) and he only pulled away enough to cup your face, his brows furrowed in concern and guilt written across his face. 
“M’sorry, baby,” he whispered with a heavy voice as his eyes skimmed across your body. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? I can get Jon to get a first aid kit or we can go to medical—”
“I’m fine,” you murmured, your fists clenching the fabric of his hoodie like you were worried he would be pulled away from you. “That was…a lot.” 
“I thought there would be more security,” Lando frowned, his thumbs skimming along your cheek like the action was just as soothing to him as it was to you. “I wouldn’t have put you in that position if I knew—”
“I’m fine, Lando,” you spoke again, giving him a soft smile in hopes it would help reassure him. “All thanks to you. My knight in papaya armour.” 
Lando snorted. “Oh, that was terrible.” 
“Yeah, but it made you laugh,” you retorted.
“I’m glad you’re here with me,” Lando confessed, a soft expression painted across his face. 
“I’m glad I’m here too, baby.”
.
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