#i needed to add sound or else it was going to be weird
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louissviolin · 4 months ago
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These two get my mind thinking all the time.
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dykedvonte · 4 months ago
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My post about Anya is making like a little ruckus on Twitter and I think it’s crazy how many people like have a problem with it.
Like you don’t have to agree with how I characterize Anya and her actions but it’s more like, why are you focused on only one aspect of her character? Why are you removing nuance from the situation? I don’t see it as giving Curly the benefit of the doubt when it comes to doing better for Anya, but as exploring his character and hers relationship with a the very little authentic facts we get about them. In truth, there’s a lot more I wish Curly did, even if it wasn’t pragmatic but I realize the issue there.
The first psychological horror game in a while that’s real intricate in its storytelling and makes you need to really need to address the morality of intentions and its already getting torn asunder smh 😔
#I don’t know if it’s the case of people who hate curly and think he should’ve just killed Jimmy won’t accept anything else#but I really am trying to get the idea that they were stuck for over a year in space together on a ship barely kept together with wildly#different and conflicting personalities who also got more hostile because they know they are going home to unemployment#it sounds heartless to say and he should have prioritized her more but in his head that’s not the only thing he has to manage and he has to#fit the necessary actions to take in his head with all that including his perception of them as a friend vs as a boss#idk I just don’t believe Curly was comforting Jimmy with the intent of helping him get rid of Anya. he wanted to help both of them he went#about it horribly like the game is literally about realizing how misguided you can be and that responsibility#and how to be responsible look different even if there are better options like it’s just weird just block my ass dawg#also I think the argument of how could the situation be worse if he stopped Jimmy is stupid cause it’s under the guise that Curly would#assume someone he trusted would just try and commit murder suicide or he’d get degloved and all his crew directly#or indirectly killed by that friend like sorry if that’s a reach statement like adding#your supplementary thoughts is how analysis is born but adding facts about events we don’t know happened and treating them like character#truths is lame is a cop out from actually engaging with parts of the story that adds grey areas to characters you wants to see in black#this is just a stupid like thing to me but it makes me sad cause I don’t even hate seeing depictions of Curly as more aware and#accommodating to Jimmy purposely but I need you to understand he thought he was doing the right thing for both his friends and his closest#friend but the key point is he thought he was doing right for both of them like what game were we both watching???#mouthwashing#like just block me pls like Anya would not share ur mindset or hold ur hand like do more than just pity her if you like her so much
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jamminvroomvroom · 3 months ago
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as sick as it sounds, i loved you first. 2
LN x fem!leclerc reader
PART 2 OF 2 -> read part 1 linked HERE!
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here we go again guys, you know the drill! follows directly on from part 1 because of the silly word count :(
warnings: warnings: 18+!! minors GO AWAY! smut, angst, fluff, kinda enemies to lovers? kinda? r is charles sister oop, miscommunication, both of them are down bad for eachother but they are also extremely dumb! breeding kink, size kink, pain kink (if u squint), unprotected p in v (don’t be silly!)
part 2: 6.1k words
8. i have you.
“you never told me why.” lando blurts.
the sun is setting outside, the pair of you sprawled out over your hotel bed. he’d been in your room for a few hours, tangled with you between the linen sheets. it’s thursday in brazil, and he’d made a beeline for your hotel room after media day wrapped up. he couldn’t explain the anxiety he felt, pooling thickly in the pit of his belly, but it subsided as soon as he saw your pretty face, peeking through the crack in your door.
he’d stayed after, a habit that had been developing of late, when you were both at home in monaco, but it was unusual on a race weekend. you’d pulled out your laptop to do some work, and chucked the remote at him, telling him to put something on netflix. he’d just smiled and obliged, more than willing to stay with you.
“told you ‘why’ what?” you look up from your laptop, confused.
“why you haven’t really been with anyone else.” his voice is small, scared he’s overstepping but he figures he’s seen you naked one too many times to get shy.
“oh.”
you stare off into the dim light of the room for a second, collecting your thoughts, reliving it all.
“you don’t need to tell me, sorry if that was weird-“
“no, uh, it’s fine. it’s a bit tragic really, embarrassing.” you start. “there was a guy, a couple of years ago. he was on my course at uni. he was perfect, flowers on my doorstep once a week, romantic dinners overlooking the harbour.” you reminisce, smiling sadly. “we went on a few dates and he was selling it all perfectly, it was like he was telling me everything i wanted to hear. i trusted him, so i slept with him. it was my first time.” your breath hitches. “next thing i know, he’s telling everyone that will listen that he’s best friends with charles leclerc and that he’s fucked an f1 drivers sister. and, you know, monaco is small. charles and arthur beat the shit out of him.” you laugh, but it doesn’t reach your eyes, which are now glossed over with fresh, stinging tears.
lando slides closer to you, tentatively wrapping an arm over your shoulder.
“it’s always been hard, you know? people trying to get close to me so that they could get close to charles. all my life, it’s been the same shit. i just wanted someone to want me for me, just once.”
you’re crying now, and lando wants to die for causing it.
“hey, ‘m so sorry, honey. i shouldn’t have asked.” he shushes you, pulling you close. he kisses the top of your head gently, and you snuggle further into him.
“no, it’s okay. wanted you to know. that’s why i like this. us.” it comes out just above a whisper.
“that’s why i like us too.” he murmurs. you look up at him, scanning his face.
“what’s your story? charles said something to me once about a bad breakup.” you ask softly. lando sighs.
“she wanted the lifestyle more than she wanted me.” he shrugs.
“i’m sorry.”
“don’t be. i’m better off.” i have you, he wants to add.
“i like the fact that we can’t hurt eachother that way.” you breathe, voicing the sentiment that you’ve both shared since the very first time you were together.
“i like it too, honey. more than you know.”
-
9. ache.
a weight lifts off of him in vegas.
brazil had been a shit show, one that he wanted to forget. one that left him awake for two days avoiding your calls, until you snapped him out of it by showing up at his place anyway, and giving him the best head of his fucking life. he’d slept like a damn baby after that.
he had a week off, after, which he spent in your bed more than his own, and then he was promptly off to nevada, awaiting your arrival a few days later and fixated on clawing something back after brazil, even if it was just pride.
well, that fixation didn’t amount to much, but at least you were there, somewhere, watching and waiting. charles is a wreck, though, storming away from parc ferme, which means you’ll be with him, instead of with lando. he feels selfish at the way it stings.
he’s exhausted when he leaves the track, dead on his feet in the elevator up to his room. he can’t bring himself to join max or george and celebrate. he’ll make it up to both of them another time. his phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out, recognising your contact. he doesn’t even fight the smile that pulls at the corners of his mouth.
packed something special for you. you gonna come find out what?
he’s in love with you. has been for a while.
the attention you pay to him for himl, the way you tease him and laugh with him and let him lose himself in unravelling you. your quick wit, mesmerising eyes, the way you switch languages when he scrambles your brain and you can’t think hard enough to keep speaking english. he’s a goner, and he knows it.
he doesn’t bother replying, just makes a beeline for your room. he’s spent enough time in it already this weekend to make it there without much thought. you’d even left him a keycard, which he retrieves with nimble fingers from his wallet, letting himself into your suite.
he calls your name, rounding the corner and he could die right there, just at the sight of you.
you’re lamplit, knelt on the middle of your bed, wrapped in nothing but intricate, baby pink lace.
“my god.” he pants, jaw dropped. you’re ethereal, gorgeous, a delicate gift wrapped up just for him to open.
“do you like it?” your eyes are wide, daunted.
“what the fuck did i do to deserve you?” he stalks to the end of the bed, shrugging off his jacket, his hoodie, until he’s left in a white vest and team joggers. he kneels down at the foot of the bed, ready to crawl over you. “i love it.”
you flush, grinning sweetly as he crawls over you, pushing you back into the mattress.
“you did this all for me?” lando asks, stroking over a lacy bra strap.
“thought you deserved it.” you purr, but your facade slips for just a minute. “is this okay? never done this before.” you glance up at him with round, doe eyes that make him swallow hard, melting further into you.
“‘s perfect.” he promises. “you’re so perfect.”
lando kisses you softly, his warm skin pressing into yours. you moan quietly into his mouth, holding him close. he thumbs over the lace adorning your bust, stroking it. you squirm every time he brushes your skin.
“wanna be on top. wanna try it.” you pant into his mouth, watching closely as he groans, eyes fluttering as he imagines the sight.
“only if you keep this on.” he bargains, flipping the pair of you over.
you sit up on his lap, smoothing your hands over his chest as his find your hips. he steadies you, playing with the band of your panties, tracing over the pattern.
“can’t believe you did this all for me.” lando coos, taking the opportunity to take it all in, you, flustered and breathtaking, straddling him. dressed up all for him, all his.
“you deserve it.”
“do you think you’re ready for me? lemme see.” his hand skates between your thighs, pressing the pads of his fingers against the crotch of your underwear. he applies pressure against the wet patch that he feels, licking his lips. “were you thinking about me when you were getting all dressed up? thinking about how i’d touch you?”
“yeah,” you nod frantically, grinding down on his fingers. “wanted you all day but i wanted to be good for you.” you pout. you’re gonna kill him, he thinks.
“always good for me.” he applies more pressure, toying with your clit through the lace, the sensation making you quiver, bucking your hips.
“just want you inside of me, lando. i’m ready.” you plead, palming over his sweats. your hand travels further, finding his between your legs. you tug your underwear to the side, and he feels just how wet you are for him.
“you sure, baby?”
there he goes again. baby. your tummy twists.
“yeah, lan, i want it to hurt a little.” you sound so sweet for him and it shreds the rest of his self restraint.
lando sits up just enough to rip off his vest, taps your thigh so that you lift up for a second, long enough for him to shrug off his sweats. when he’s bare, he paws at your hips, helping you to adjust. your fingers wrap around his length and he jolts, mouth falling open as you swipe the head of him through your slit. you sink down, taking just the tip, but it feels like the first time all over again, the angle creating delicious pressure that burns through your pelvis. your eyes squeeze shut and he swirls his fingers over your sides.
“take it easy for me, love.” lando urges, looking up at you with concern.
“i like it. promise.” you choke out, eyes rolling back at the pleasure, the burn.
you continue to slide down on him, sinking further and further until you’re flush against his pelvis. you roll your hips experimentally, your clit brushing against the thatch of hair at his base and you squirm, sensitive.
“want me to help?” he asks through gritted teeth.
“wanna do this for you.” you pant, rocking your hips against his.
the angle is brutal, so intoxicatingly good, and you can already feel yourself leaking all over him. you build up a rhythm, slow and steady, watching the ripple of his abs everytime you sink back down on him, the way his curls fan over his forehead, the veins in his arms bulging as he grips at your waist tighter and tighter.
“you look so pretty, baby, taking me like this.” lando sighs, helping you pick up the pace. you cry out, leaning backwards, fingers gripping his firm thighs.
“it’s so good, you feel so good.” you whine, arching your back.
he’s entranced by the way your breasts bounce, fighting against the skimpy bra and he sinks his teeth into his plush bottom lip, eyeing you hungrily. one hand leaves your waist and travels to the cups of your bra, tugging so harshly that you hear the threads break. he frees your tits, watching in delight as they fall out of the lace confines.
“you’re so sexy, honey, look so beautiful. you’re all mine, aren’t you? this is all for me, right?” lando’s eyes roll back in his head when he feels the way you clamp down around him at his words. he’s gonna fill you up, he thinks, mark you as his from the inside out.
“yeah, lan, all yours.” you slur, fighting the urge to cum. “‘m all yours.”
he can see that you’re tiring, the ache setting in, so he pulls you forward, until you’re chest to chest, wrapped up his his thick arms.
“i’ve got you, baby.” he swears, holding you close as he rolls his hips, fucking up into you.
it’s all too much like this, the constant pressure on your clit, the head of his cock tapping against your cervix, the thrumming of his heart, the cold sweat of his chest peaking your nipples. you let out a strangled cry of his name, and you see white, your nerve endings overstimulated and fried. all you can hear is his voice, pulling your through it and out the other side.
“did so good for me, baby, such a good girl. took it all so well, love.”
you’re limp on top of him, a dead weight curled around him like a life force. there’s nothing that could make him move you, and wouldn’t let you go unless you asked. you lay there in silence, your mixed release leaking out of you. your heart rate steadies, about as much as it can with him around, and you feel yourself blinking away sleep, exhausted. lando notices, of course he does.
“let’s clean up.” he suggests, sitting up carefully with you on his lap.
“carry me?” you request sleepily, a lazy smile painting your face.
“as you wish.” he jokes, bowing his head.
your legs wrap around his waist as he shuffles off of the bed, and he walks to the bathroom, setting you down on the marble sink top. he leans into the shower, adjusting the temperature and turning the water on. he lets it heat up and turns back to you. no words are exchanged as he peels your ruined panties off, as he unhooks your bra and drops its all onto the counter. he tugs you off of the side, guiding your under the stream of water, the warmth making you relax into him. he’s more than happy to prop you up.
“my legs ache.” you giggle, resting your cheek against his shoulder.
“was it worth it?”
“definitely.”
“good.”
he cleans you, massaging soap into your skin, and washing it off. you stay close while he does the same for himself, passing him different products as you clean up together. it’s quiet, nothing needs to be said, and you wonder if this is what life with him would be like. domestic and easy.
“stay.” you let yourself ask, croaking the request out into the silence. you’re both drying off, and he’s gathering he’s clothes.
“i thought you’d want me to go.” he looks like a deer in headlights. cute.*
“stay.” your repeat, and this time it sounds like a plea. he slides his boxers on.
“okay.”
he’s like a furnace under the covers and you can’t help but curl into his side, legs wrapping around eachothers. there’s no going back from this, you fear. he’s thinking the same thing. you kiss his chest as you fall asleep, just a quick press of your lips to his pec, but it makes him hot all over. if the lights were still on, you’d see him blushing. he returns the favour with careful peck to your hairline. you both nuzzle impossibly closer.
“has it ever been like that for you?” you whisper into the darkness. you hear the change in his breathing.
the question is loaded; have you ever felt like this before? was that just sex to you? what are we? what is this? do you want me how i want you?
“never.” it’s barely a whisper
you fall asleep with a smile on your face.
-
when you wake up, he stirs, bronzed arms tightening around you.
“go back to sleep.” he grumbles, pulling your back to his chest.
“i need to catch my flight.” you reply, turning around to face him.
you’re stunned when you see him smushed into the pillow, lips pouty, eye lashes fluttering to clear away sleep. he looks so pretty in the morning light, and you wish you’d asked him to stay the night sooner.
“just fly with me.” lando mutters. you freeze.
“lan, you know i can’t do that. what would that look like?”
“who cares?” he half shrugs behind you, and you wriggle away, sit up in bed.
“uh, me? i care, lando. i can’t be seen flying around with some other driver, do you know how much that would complicate things?”
“some other driver.” he huffs. that gets his attention, and he sits up. “what so we can sneak around, and you’ll let me fuck you, but being on an airplane together is crossing the line?” he grunts sarcastically. you narrow your eyes at him.
“don’t say it like that.” you scold.
“how should i say it, then? i thought maybe this meant something more to you.” he’s standing from the bed now, hurt thick in his voice, and you panic, reaching out for him, but he’s finding his clothes.
“it does! it does mean something to me but… lando, i can’t put charles in that position. i can’t put myself in that position.” you reason weakly, standing and rapidly moving towards him. you pull him to face you, holding onto his shoulders. “don’t go, please.” you whisper, cupping his cheek.
he stares down at you, dejected, a wounded animal, and pushes your hands off of him.
“i, uh. i care about you. a lot. too much, i think. i can’t go through this again, and you can’t hurt your brother. so…” he breathes shakily.
“so?” you plead, shaking your head. “don’t do this, we can…”
“i’m not gonna be ‘some other driver’, honey. ‘m sorry.”
“lando-“
“its okay. this was good while it lasted, and i know you’re gonna find what you’re looking for, without all of the, uh,” he gestures around blindly. “the complications.”
“don’t go.” you whisper, catching his hand. tears pool in the corners of your eyes, distorting him.
“go catch your flight.” he smiles sadly, finally dressed, and then he’s gone.
you stand frozen, taking stock of whatever the fuck just happened.
i care about you.
good while it lasted.
you’re gonna find what you’re looking for.
complications.
you choke out a sob, stumble backwards onto the foot of your bed when it hits you.
you’d already found what you were looking for, and now, he was gone.
-
you’re supposed to go straight to qatar with charles, but you beg him to get you a flight home instead.
he can hear that you’ve been crying, and tells you that he’ll kill anyone that you need him to. you promise it’s fine, through even more tears, tell him that you’ll fill him in when he’s got a minute to breathe.
the ticket lands in your inbox and you flee. you spend the twelve hour flight watching love actually, crying into a glass of wine, and wondering if you should get gracie abrams’ lyrics tattooed on your forehead.
i love you, i’m sorry would be quite fitting right about now.
when you land, you don’t even go home, making a beeline for alex and charles’ apartment instead. when alex lets you in, confused to see your face, leo does laps around your feet. you drop your bags and fall into her arms, sob until your throat is raw and your eyes are bloodshot.
“i fucked up.” you wail, breathing hard.
“lando?” she asks, tentative. she has a knowing look, and your eyes nearly fall out of your head.
“what? how did you-“
“well let’s just say that we saw the DM he sent you, and arthur was actually sat opposite me when you said you were with him.” she admits. you gasp.
“does charles… does he…?”
“oh, sweetie, charles knows nothing. although he did ask me what shoe size you wear after coming to your place a few weeks back. he said something about a pair of birkenstocks that looked huge compared to your other shoes, and i told him that was just the style.” she snorts, and you slap your hand over your forehead.
“oh, jesus.” you whine, hiding your face in your hands.
“wanna tell me what happened?”
“i don’t even know, he asked me to fly with him and then i said it would complicate things, that i couldn’t been seen with, quote on quote, ‘some other driver.’” you sigh.
“some other driver? oh, girl.”
“yep.”
“were you guys dating…? or?”
“no! lately things had been a bit more,” you pause, gathering your thoughts. “intimate? i don’t know. i definitely have feelings for him.”
alex looks at you sympathetically, strokes your knee soothingly.
“have you told him that?”
“no, i didn’t know how and now he’s done with me.” you wince, a fresh wave of tears pricking your eyes.
“maybe not, sweetie, maybe you if you told him how you felt, he’d understand. is charles what you’re worried about?”
“charles, the fans, all of it.” you whimper.
“the fans can be, well, intense, but take it from me, if lando’s worth it, none of that matters. is he worth it?”
you pause, weighing it all up. the way he’d been with you, so gentle and caring, considerate and interested in you. he’d made you feel safe and satisfied, and everytime you caught him looking at you, you felt that first initial spark all over again. you could laugh with him, push and tease and not just be charles leclerc’s little sister. you look forward to seeing him, feeling him, speaking to him. all of this together feels heavy, but you want to bear it.
“he is.” you whisper, looking at alex nervously. “oh, god, what do i do?”
“i think there’s a paddock pass with your name on it that you should make use of.” she tells you, wrapping you in a tight hug. “and if charles has a problem, tell him he has to go through me.”
-
10. pizza and pasta.
max fewtrell sips his coffee in the hotel lobby, waiting for keegan to join him. it’s hot in qatar, dry and bright, ornate.
his phone buzzes.
message request from: yourusername
HI SORRY ARE YOU IN QATAR????
he probably looks like a cartoon character, eyes bulging out of his skull.
another message comes through.
this sounds insane and i’m sorry that this is like, the first time we’ve ever spoken, but i need a huge favour. like a really really huge favour.
max scratches the back of his head, pulling a face at his phone. baffled wouldn’t even begin to cover how he feels.
he picks up his phone, and opens the messages.
-
lando over exerts himself keeping away from you. the sprint race had been a breeze compared to staying away, out of your reach. it hurts like hell, but it’s a necessary evil for both your sakes.
he wants to sleep, do nothing else but collapse onto his mattress, phone silenced and curtains drawn as tightly shut as they can go. he unlocks the door to his hotel room. the light flashes green, and he relaxes, finally. until, he doesn’t.
there’s a faint sound coming from down the short corridor that separates his front door from his sleeping area. it’s not max, he’s just left him outside his own hotel room, and it’s not keegan, either, for the same reason. he wonders if he has another stalker, braces himself and picks up the first thing he can find. a shoe. useless, he thinks.
lando creeps down the corridor, poised and ready, jumps out of his skin when you round the corner before he can get there. you yelp, bracing yourself against the wall.
“what the fuck, i thought you were a murderer!” lando huffs, throwing his head back.
somehow, the sight of you is worse than any murderer could ever be.
“putain! god, i’m so sorry! so sorry!” you squeak.
“how did you get in here?”
“funny story,” you tilt your head to the side, trying to look harmless. “max let me in.”
“verstappen?” lando asks, face twisting with confusion.
“no, idiot. fewtrell.” you reply, duh-like. “i can go, i know this is crazy and weird and a total violation, but i had to talk to you.” your voice softens and lando seems to finally relax. he’ll kill max later.
“this is batshit, actually, but i respect the grind.” lando shrugs. “what do you want?” he sounds harsher than intended, closed off, but you suppose you deserve it.
“i’m sorry about what happened last weekend.” you inhale shakily. “i… i care about you a lot, too, and i have done for a while but i was too scared to say it. i realised as soon as you left that i never ever wanna hurt you like that. never want you to feel like i don’t lo- care about you… like that.” you catch yourself, not ready to say certain words. he gets the gist.
“i don’t wanna be some hookup anymore. it was fine at first, when i thought that’s all i could have from you, but i know that it’s not. i want you.” lando states, his words poignant. “whatever pace you need, whatever you want from me, i wanna give it to you.”
the space between you dissipates.
“i saw you, you know, watching me from your garage all those months ago, like you were trying place me.” your voice is barely above a whisper. “admittedly, i kinda wanted to punch you for ruining that dress, but i also, really really secretly thought you were cute.”
“well, if we’re being honest, i really wanted to fuck you the first time i saw you.” he jokes crudely, and you slap his chest. “in my defence, i was blackout drunk.”
“asshole.” you mutter. you’re so close now that his nose bumps yours.
“i think you like it.” he whispers.
“yeah, i really do.”
your lips meet his urgently, homecoming. it’s been too long since you’ve had him in your hands, touched him and felt him breathe against you. the kiss is passionate, frantic, and you know you’re in love with him. you’re certain.
-
an hour later, you’re tucked into bed with him, a movie that you’re not paying attention to playing idly on the tv. pizza crusts lay on a plate, the leftovers of your impromptu dinner date.
you’ve covered your degree, how he got into racing, what you do for work, who you’re friends are, family dynamics.
you learn that his favourite colour actually is yellow, and he learns that you’re favourite drink is red wine. he prefers pizza, you prefer pasta. you like flat whites, and he doesn’t like coffee at all.
“after abu dhabi, i’ll take you on a real date. i promise.” he sounds excited as he says it, and you melt into his side.
“oh yeah?” you ask, looking up at him, your cheeks smushed against his shoulder. he tucks your hair behind your ear, thumb stroking your cheek tenderly. he just hums in response, gazing down at you.
“gonna talk to your brothers as well.” he murmurs, dipping down to peck your lips.
“not just yet.” you whisper. he furrows his eyebrows.
“why?” he doesn’t sound upset, maybe a little deflated.
“i wanna enjoy this a bit longer, at least go on a real date before, you know, they kill you.” you keep your tone serious, holding it together well. he bursts out laughing, squeezing you closer.
“and here i was worried that you were ashamed of me.” he’s grinning toothily, boyish and pure, and you kiss him again, deeper.
“never.” you coo.
-
11. daylight.
abu dhabi is a distant memory by the time you get back to monaco. you were happy for your brother and your boyfriend.
yeah, that’s what you get to call him now.
your first date had been effortless and yet so intricately perfect, lando planning it down to the last detail. flowers delivered to you the morning of, picking you up at the door, telling you just how beautiful you looked. your table had been waiting for you, candlelit, dressed immaculately. a bottle of red wine served as the centrepiece, your favourite kind. swoon.
he orders pizza, you order pasta. halfway through, you switch plates.
you wake up the next morning in his arms, content and satiated, still bare from the night before. your phone is buzzing, stirring your both out of your deep sleep. you ignore it.
“c’mere.” he begs, breath fanning out across your neck and you wriggle backwards, further into his arms. your naked skin moulds with his, and you can feel him, ready and waiting against the curve of your ass. he’s still half asleep, and so are you, but you spread your legs just enough for him to swipe himself through your folds and slip right in.
you groan at the stretch, he shushes you soothingly, clinging to your frame. everything is so warm and heightened.
“so ready for me.” he whispers, kissing over your shoulder, hips making the most minimal, languid thrusts that make you dizzy.
“want you like this every morning.” you purr, hiking your top leg up even further. he’s basically on top of you now, his body half covering yours.
lando drags your hips back to meet his, breathing heavily against the back of your neck.
“anytime you want me ‘m here. ‘m yours.” lando mutters, eyes rolling back in his head when you clench around him. lewd sounds are exchanged between your lazy bodies, so worked up, two powder kegs desperate to explode.
it happens in waves, powerful orgasms washing over your bodies like the sunlight through the curtains. it’s bright and warm and leaves you buzzing underneath him, electrified.
“good morning.” you smirk, rolling over to face him.
he’s already sunk back down into the mattress, a satisfied grin on his face, eyelashes dusting the tops of his cheeks where his eyes have fallen shut. he looks angelic, and if it wasn’t for his devious ways, you’d hail him a saint.
“very good morning, baby.” lando pants, scrubbing his hands over his face.
“you look so pretty.” you breathe, raking your nails through his hair. he groans, shivers of pleasure radiating through his scalp and down his back.
“not as pretty as you.” he surges forward, pinning you to the bed, the pair of you a hazy mess of limbs and laughter, so wrapped up in eachother. he’s peppering you with kisses, all over you face and your chest, further and further down your body.
round two is about to commence, and you’re more than excited, ready to welcome him back between your thighs, when you both here a loud, repetitive thud coming from faraway. lando pulls back, trying to pinpoint the sound.
“is that the door?” he says to himself. “sorry, baby. need to get that.” he frowns apologetically. you sigh, waving your hand in understanding, watching as he grabs a robe.
-
charles nearly chokes on air and fury when he gets the all caps message from arthur, followed by one from lorenzo, then his publicist.
arthur: HAVE YOU SEEN TWITTER? i don’t know if i should laugh or cry
enzo: be nice to her, don’t be a little bitch
publicist: Charles, we will need to address this news immediately and conclude whether the photos are out of context or not. Meeting scheduled on the shared calendar.
first question: what fucking photos? did someone catch him picking his nose in public?
second question: who does he need to be nice too?
third question: can he not go five fucking minutes without some impending media crisis?
he opens twitter and doesn’t need to look hard, because there on his screen is a picture taken the night before of his precious baby sister, and there is lando fucking norris with his tongue down her throat.
alex asks him where he’s going, watching him storm out keys in hand. he doesn’t respond with anything but a growl and a mutter of your name. alex’s eyes go wide, reached for her phone.
to: your number
girl he knows! idk how but he KNOWS!
for once in your life PICK UP THE PHONE
JESUS OKAY i just saw twitter…
OKAY im tracking charles location rn and looks like he’s near lando’s?
MISS LECLERC PLEASE! HELLO?????
it was nice knowing you babe.
-
you pick up your phone as lando leaves the room, scrolling absentmindedly through your notifications. your interest peaks, however, when you see about a million texts from alex, and even more missed call. in fact, you have literally thousands of notifications, and your blood runs cold.
you’d been so careful last night, surely it hadn’t leaked. your blood runs cold when you open your text chain with alex. the aggressive knocking on the door suddenly makes harrowing sense and you spring from the mattress just in time to hear the front door click.
“is she here?” you hear charles bellow, voice laced thickly with anger.
“uh… who?” lando tries, he really does, but he’s not a good liar. you wince, grabbing anything to cover your dignity: lando’s sweats and a t-shirt. you scramble out of the bedroom, sliding down the corridor from the sheer speed you’re moving at.
“fucking hell.” charles sighs, wincing at the sight of you. “of all the people on the planet, you pick my rival? you pick him?” charles barks at you. you close your eyes, focusing on your breathing as your chest constricts. “i told you. i specifically told you not to mess around with him, and c’mon, i don’t ask you for much.” charles throws his hands out in frustration.
“charles, listen to me,” you keep your voice calm and steady. “we’re not messing around, we… we’re together.” you confirm, watching his jaw tick.
“together? with him? do you know how many girls probably think they’re in a relationship with him? half of the portuguese modelling industry is linked to him.” charles laughs incredulously, disgusted. your eyes narrow, watching lando crumble into a million pieces in your peripheral.
“don’t you dare ruin this for me! and how can you come into his house and speak to him that way? my god, charles, you don’t get it, do you? i can never be happy with anyone because of you! everyone, everyone, uses me to get to you and, god, i finally found someone who cares about me and couldn’t give less of a shit about who you are and you don’t approve? shall i stay single and lonely and in your shadow forever? should i go for some greasy hedge fund legacy who wants to fuck any leclerc he can get his hands on? huh? i’m sorry if you don’t approve, truly, i am, but you will not have a say in this.”
charles stays silent, as does lando, the only sound in the hallway being your heavy breathing, a symptom of your monologue. you feel the ghost of lando’s touch on your waist, soothing you from your outburst, and you lean into his touch, looking up at him. his eyes are reassuring, the only source of comfort.
charles watches intently, the silent communication between you both, and it knocks him for six. ultimately, he wants you to be happy, but it begs the question: can lando make you happy? the way you truly deserve? he sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, lets out a muttered string of expletives.
“will you look after her?” he stares daggers at lando, watches the way the brit straightens up.
“i will.” lando nods firmly, eyes sincere.
“and you won’t hurt her? you won’t fuck her around?” charles looks like he’s desperately pleading, but his voice is commanding, no margin for error.
“i promise.”
“and you’ll make her happy?”
“i’d do anything for her.”
your head snaps towards lando, the tears you’d been holding back finally breaking the dam. charles watches closely, steps backwards towards the door. there isn’t space for him here right now.
“okay. i- okay.” you watch the way charles backs down, and he finally meets your eyes again. “ma chére, je suis désolé.” he tells you solemnly. you nod, lips in a thin, hard line. you can feel lando nudge you forward.
“come here, loser.” you groan, opening your arms for your brother. charles meets you half way, squeezes you tight. he gently kisses your forehead and turns to leave, not before shooting lando a look that says ‘i’m watching you.’
you turn back to your newfound boyfriend, tears still falling, but you pay them no mind.
“well done, baby.” he affirms, thumbing away your tears.
“i love you, lando.” you whisper, threading your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck. “thank you.” his eyes glaze over, total adoration swirling in the pools of green.
“so glad you said that because i absolutely love you too.” he laughs, hauling you in for a kiss. it’s a mess of tears and laughter and a weird sense of serenity.
“you might wanna call your publicist. pictures of last night leaked.” you mumble against his lips.
“at least we don’t have to sneak around anymore.” he shrugs. “i’ll call later. got things to do.” he picks you up effortlessly, throwing you over his shoulder. you squeal, and he teasingly slaps your ass.
you catch sight of the apartment as he walks you through it, and you think about the first time you saw it, under the cover of darkness, covert and clandestine.
you much prefer it in the light of day.
you prefer lando in the light of day, too.
yourusername and landonorris just posted on instagram:
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liked by: francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux, oscarpiastri and others.
yourusername: oops!
comments on this post have been disabled.
-
thank god that’s over lmfao - thank you for reading!!
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luludeluluramblings · 7 months ago
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Smalltown!Neglected!Meta!Reader x Yandere!Batfam ☁️ Part Four
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
Part One ☁️ Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️ Part Five ☁️ Part Six ☁️ Part Seven ☁️ Part Eight
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
Warning: Obessive behavior, Yandere tendencies, su*c*de/death.
A/N: Finally adding warning labels. We’re getting somewhere. I’ve had some of this written out, but had to add some stuff in to drive it home. Reader’s coping skills are failing, but everyone’s starting to get obsessive. Also, I’ve been fighting myself on drawing art for this. (I’m a bit out of practice.)
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
Reader has basically called befriending Damian and Jason a lost cause.
Bruce still avoids reader. And, everyone else is still busy with what Reader assumes is Batwork. (Which is fine, Reader is fine. It’s not like they’re stuck in the manor pacing the halls every damn day.)
Cass and Duke’s get back from their respective missions. They weren’t gone too long, but they’re come back a bit roughed up. They debrief with Bruce and then have to go back to being civilians.
Reader is waiting to comfort them. Not to confront them. Reader’s more concerned with how Duke has a mild limp and how Cass’s knuckles have some bruising than them ditching. Plus, reader is still not completely sure that her family is Gotham’s vigilantes. They need to confirm.
But, Duke and Cass both appreciate Reader checking on them and not asking questions. Cass suspects Reader suspects something, judging by Reader’s body language. But, it’s nice for someone who’s naturally soft to be soft with you.
Duke appreciates how Reader treats him so, normally. In a way it reminds him of his childhood, when things were easier. He has a normal friend now, completely mostly free of Gotham’s crazy.
Reader is happy their back, but disappointed that they won’t be going to the school gala. In fact, a few family members make comments about how it sounds like a waste of time.
Bruce, however, is actually happy Reader is excited. And, Reader gets even more excited when one of their new friends ask to be their date. Reader’s date is so genuinely excited about going to this Gala with Reader. (Uh-oh, that’s not good.)
Some of Reader’s other friends, the more haughty and wealthy ones, tell Reader that they should’ve picked someone more… refined. Which Reader defends that their Date is perfectly sweet and good looking to boot.
But, this leads Reader to decide not to tell anyone in the family about their date. They don’t want to hear the same thing from their Gotham family. Reader does inform BFF, younger brother, and Nana of their date. For some reason, BFF was a bit disgruntled, and even Nana tried to convince them it was probably best not to go. Younger Brother was encouraging reader to have fun. (But he was whispering into the phone, and asking Reader if he could come visit them soon. Please. People are acting weird here. Is everything okay, do you need me to come home. No. No. Don’t— It’s fine. I just wanna come visit you.)
But, reader was committed to going and enjoying their date and wearing their custom made outfit.
That night, Reader was given Bruce’s permission to get ready at one of their friends’ houses. Reader was practically spoiled by their friends, it was almost a bit overwhelming. Their date meet them at the Gala escorting them inside and having a wonderful time. (I hope it last. It’s not going to though. How sad.)
At the end of the night, their Date escorted them home. To end a near perfect night Reader got a kiss. A long and pretty heated kiss. Right in front of the Entrance camera.
Tim had pulled up the camera feed when Reader got home, at Bruce’s request, just to check on Reader. (He was going to do it anyway.) The entire family was winding down from Patrol in the Batcave when the feed came on. Leaving them all to get a front row seat to Reader’s little act of rebellion.
(That’s all this was, right. Just a little act of rebellion. This won’t happen again, obviously. They won’t fucking let it.)
Bruce is livid. It doesn’t help that Jason wolf-whistles to further enrage him. (Jason is making plans to break someone’s leg though. Possibly the Dates. How fucking dare they corrupt you, that’s his job.)
Stephane is honestly impressed, didn’t think Reader had it in them. (How cute! I wonder what we could get up to together.)
Duke, sweet Duke, didn’t want to see that. His (best) friend getting tongued down on camera. He’s going to need bleach and therapy. (Why would you do that? When you can just game with him. You’re his bro. Gross.)
Cassandra is… understanding. Reader has needs. Reader wants affection. That’s fine. But, not that one. Pick someone else. (Llet her pick, actually. You can’t read people like her, you need someone better. Someone you she can trust. She needs to approve of them first.)
Dick is more disapproving, but he understands. Still, this changes how he sees Reader. Sweet innocent helpless Reader has a wild side. (But still reader is clearly helpless, obviously they don’t know what they’re doing.)
It also changes how Barbara sees Reader. Or confirms. Barbara runs under the assumption that Reader is more like Bruce than anyone realizes. (She’s not wrong, but it’s not in the way she thinks.) Bruce is a bit of natural flirt, he just hides it in his ‘Brucie’ persona. Reader apparently takes after that. (Damian sure didn’t.)
Damian, is disgusted, disappointed, and disapproving. He doesn’t doubt Father will scold you, but your date needs to be dealt with and all other suitors as well. (He’ll take care of it. He’s your brother, that’s his job.)
Tim, however, is legitimately jealous. He wanted to see this side of reader first. He got a glimpse of it before, but he wants it for himself now that he sees the full thing. (Also, right in front of the camera? Did Reader know it was there? If they did, would they be okay with Tim filming them more? Just to observe, please.)
Tim immediately starts pulling up all the information he can about Reader’s date. Without Bruce’s prompting this time. Bruce does nod in approval before marching to the entrance. Intent on putting an end to this and giving Reader a firm talking to.
It goes, horribly. Date is forced to leave and Bruce tears into Reader. (What happened to the outfit I bought you? Why didn’t you tell me you had a date? I didn’t approve of this. I don’t care that you’re back on time or that you’re old enough, you’re my child! Mine! You get my approval first.)
Reader stays composed, barely. The good news is that the brutal scolding is the only consequence Reader faces. (Bruce is more upset about Reader not seeking his approval than doing something he disapproves of. He’s your father. He should have a damn say. Would you have done this to D̴̖̞͑̊̓a̷͎͗̇d̸̜͍̩̓̎d̸̪̩̟̆̎y̶̛̼̌? Why are you doing this to him?)
The bad news, Reader’s date’s life is over. With just a few clicks from Tim and approval from Bruce, Date’s family company falling apart. Reported to the government, lawsuits filed by third-parties. Hidden debts needing to be collected NOW. Any misfiled taxes? Found and reported. And, most importantly, all calls and ways for Date to contact reader again, blocked.
Socially and financially, Date’s life is ruined in less than twenty-four hours. Worst of all, Reader doesn’t know. They’re still on cloud nine about the night, despite Bruce’s lecture. But, come Sunday morning, two days later, things fall apart.
Date is reported dead. Apparent suic1de just the night before. The financial implosion of the family was named the apparent reason.
Reader is distraught, confused, and hurt. What happened? What’s going on? This can’t be happening. I don’t want to lose anymore people I care about. I don’t want to lose someone like Momma and Daddy again.
Reader’s Gotham friends console Reader, saying it’s not their fault. That Date struggled with thought before. Don’t blame yourself. (They weren’t worth your time.)
Surprisingly enough, it’s Dick that finds reader having a borderline breakdown.
Dick clings and coddles and coos, but this time. Reader clings back. Reader clings back tight. Desperate for comfort. Which is surprising for Dick.
Most of the family tends to brush off his attempts at comfort until they hit rock bottom. For once, this isn’t someone hitting rock bottom before they need him. This is someone that’s just genuinely sad and overwhelmed and needs wants him.
Dick also ran under the assumption that Reader was allergic to affection, like Damian and Bruce. But, apparently, that wasn’t the case. It’s a nice feeling. To have someone not fight him when he tries to be comforting. Someone who is happy to take it. Of course, he doesn’t stay long. Once Reader pulls themselves together he’s got to get back to Buldhaven, but this time he leaves a bit slower. (But, him leaving somehow makes Reader feel worse.)
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marycorcaroli · 1 year ago
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first sex with zoro or sanji?
headcanons ; 18+.
rules ; masterlist.
i had a request for "first sex with zoro" but i decided to add sanji as well, hope no one minds ! english is not my first language, i apologize for the mistakes.
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sanji.
— the first time you have sex with sanji is like something tender and beautiful. his long fingers move over your body, sending shivers down your spine, and sanji loves it. he loves that you let him spoil you and not give anyone else the opportunity.
— he'll probably go crazy when he sees you completely naked. he'll spend several minutes looking at all your curves and admiring you.
— sanji will start with endless compliments to warm you up "you're so beautiful", "what did I do to deserve you?", "you're too beautiful for humans", "wow, you're already wet and we're just getting started, do you want my cock so bad?" i already told you he's shameless.
— will leave hickeys all over your body and afterwards, make sure to kiss each one so you don't forget his tender side.
— will lick you for hours before fucking everything out of you.
— just licking you will bring you to euphoric orgasms that make your legs shake, your brain stop functioning and your mouth can't produce anything, but sobs and pleas for more. sanji isn't rough, he wants you to feel all the pleasure possible and realize what it's really like.
— will kiss you while his fingers play with your swollen clit (he still didn't have enough he left you a total mess), his lips bite yours but at the same time he is so gentle and afraid that you won't like something.
— your comfort is important to him so don't be afraid to tell him if you're in pain or if you want him to be more gentle. sanji will do anything for you ! because he loves you to no end and he's afraid to hurt you.
— i bet he gets turned on by kissing you and can't stop.
— sanji will kiss you to hear you moaning into his mouth and sobbing. that way he will know that you like it and you are not afraid anymore.
— i don't think he'll want to hold your wrists, sanji thinks that way he'll completely limit your actions, and he likes it when you touch him ! !
— the first time he has sex, it's the missionary position! it's the best for him where he can look into your eyes and kiss your face ! ! my boy is so perfect.
— his pace is not the fastest, it's medium, it's your first time, even if he likes rough sex, pain, blindfold and restriction, he won't do those things, it's all for your comfort. sanji will be the most loving 🥺 he will start with slow thrusts so you get used to his length and don't feel pain.
— HE HAS SUCH A BIG DICK 😩 i know that for a fact ! ! sanji knows how to handle it and feeling it with his hand on your belly, god is he in heaven????
— will snuggle up to you all the time, most likely your whole neck will be in his drool for he keeps bumping his face into it.
— with your permission, will cum in you so that your cum will be fused into one ( it sounds so weird ) but if you are against it, cum on your stomach is just as good.
— aftercare ! ! will wash you in the cutest way, whispering compliments that make you red as a tomato in your ear while sanji kisses your cheeks <> bring you water, food or turn on your favorite show, watch until you fall asleep at his side, then turn off tv, hug you tight and kiss your temple, thinking about how wonderful you are and that he would do anything for you.
zoro.
— the most beautiful boy in the world ! !
— even if he looks tough, his heart is made of tenderness and love for you.
— he doesn't really need sex with you, you love and support each other, so zoro is more of a platonic relationship.
— but when it comes to sex he wants everything to be perfect. he will spend the whole day with you and show you the most beautiful places he associates with you.
— he will give you the most magnificent kisses that will show all his love for you, his hands will wrap around your whole body and press you tighter against him so that you can feel his heartbeat (it is accelerated because of you).
— he will gently undress you and keep looking at your eyes to make sure you want it.
— he is so happy : ( you trust him so much that you want to be close to him in this way. zoro will give you the most wonderful pleasure ! !
— completely undressing you, running his fingers over your body, over your scars or tattoos, leaving the wettest kisses on them.
— kisses ! ! it's important for zoro to kiss you during sex, so the intimacy between you increases.
— he will lick you till the last to make you ready for him. he has such an experienced tongue and your cunnie is so sweet, he can't hold back anymore 😩 he will bring you to squirt and then start working his fingers to see the show again.
— his pleasure is not so important to him, yours is much more important and he will do anything for it.
— he'll leave your clit swollen and kiss it in the most tender way <> and he won't mind leaving hickeys on your thighs and biting them a little. zoro is crazy about your thighs ! !
— before entering you he will say the most beautiful words of love to you "thank you for trusting me, i will do everything to make you feel great, i promise i will love you till my last breath and after that".
— like sanji, zoro's ideal position is missionary, where he can see all your emotions and can kiss your whole face.
— his pace is very smooth, he does not like sudden movements or too rough sex, he is a real romantic.
— sex with him will be long and pleasant, he is in no hurry and wants to remember this moment forever, which they will do.
— he doesn't care where to cum, he doesn't really want to make a mess, but if you ask him to, he will cum on your thighs or in you (he dreams about it).
— he will change your sheets and wash with you, telling you how good you are for him. he will bring you water or food and then fall asleep on your breasts while your fingers massage his head.
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wikiangela · 3 months ago
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you're my happily ever after (so i'll take my chance now, risk it all somehow)
rating: G
words: 2.6k
8x06 fix-it, because I'm pissed - I or my fics aren't going anywhere tho <3
thank you to @evansboyfrend for beta reading, ily 🫶
[also on Ao3]
It feels like the whole world is crumbling down. It feels like the Earth should shake, burst on fire, open up and swallow everything around. As dramatic as it is, he kind of expects it to happen, and it’s weird that he’s still sitting here. His ears are ringing, panic rising in his chest with each of Tommy’s words. He watches Tommy get up and head for the door, and he’s frozen to his spot. It’s not- it can’t be. It fucking can’t be. “Wait,” he finally manages to say, trying to keep his voice from trembling, “did you just break up with me?” He asks, hoping to any entity that listens that he just misinterpreted it, that he got it wrong. Because- because he can’t lose Tommy. He’s falling for him so fast and so hard. He’s ready for the next step. He’s ready to move in together. He’s ready to talk about one day, eventually, maybe getting married. He knows he wants that. He knows what he wants, and he wants Tommy.  “Yeah, I guess I did.” Tommy answers, glancing back at him, his expression sad but firm. But Buck knows him. Knows that this mask will crumble into something devastated as soon as he leaves. That Tommy’s heart will shatter, just as Buck’s is right now. He can see through Tommy, he knows that he cares about Buck. It just- it doesn’t make sense. What was he even talking about… It was all so much, so fast, Buck’s brain is still scrambling trying to understand it all.  “Believe me, I didn’t see-” Tommy starts, but Buck shakes his head and interrupts him. “No.” He stands up, his legs feeling shaky. Tommy fully turns towards him, confusion in his face. “What do you mean, ‘no’?” He frowns.
“I mean, no, you’re not breaking up with me.” Buck says more confidently than he feels. Because this can’t be it. The last six months, the best six months of his fucking life, can’t end like this. Can’t end at all. He won’t have this. “I know you care about me. And I care about you. And I don’t want to break up.” He sees Tommy open his mouth to speak, his expression hardening – putting on a mask again, trying to hide the hurt. He speaks again before Tommy can. “If you truly, genuinely want this, not because you think it’s gonna be better for me or you, but because you don’t want to be with me, fine, I can respect that. But I won’t accept it without a fight. I- I wanna fight for us, Tommy.” Buck steps closer to him, hoping that Tommy doesn’t step back, that might just break him. He doesn’t, he’s stuck in place, sad eyes on Buck’s. “Let me fight for us. You-” he adds quickly, on a roll now, not wanting Tommy to interrupt until after he’s done, after he’s said his piece. He needs to say it all now, let Tommy know how he feels. He can’t watch him leave without trying to fix it first. Tommy’s looking at him intently, just listening, not even trying to speak. “You gave me a second chance once, when I fucked up our first date, and I- I want to believe it wasn’t for nothing. So- so you’re my first man, so what?” Buck throws his hands up in frustration, he thinks he’s starting to sound a little frantic, speaking faster and faster. He just can’t let Tommy leave without him knowing exactly how Buck feels. “It’s far from my first relationship ever. Why- why is it so different just because you’re a man? It shouldn’t be. I don’t need to date other people, experiment or whatever else. I’ve dated people, slept around, did it all. I know how that goes, how it feels, and I don’t want to do it again. I know what I want, Tommy. And I want you. And don’t you dare tell me how I feel.” He feels anger seep in, Tommy’s words ringing in his head. What the actual fuck was he thinking? “I’m a grown man, I know how I feel. Yeah, it’s new and exciting, but it’s also real. It’s real to me, and- and if there’s any chance of forever, I want to take it. And-” he takes a breath. He feels like he’s been speaking in one breath, feeling a little lightheaded now, his heart hammering. Or maybe that’s just the panic. “And don’t start with the whole ‘I’m not your last’ bullshit.” He shakes his head again, tears welling up in his eyes, anger still building. Really, what in the world? How could Tommy want to just throw away the most wonderful relationship that’s happened to Buck in years? Maybe ever? “You don’t know that. I don’t know that. Yeah, we could break up one day. But you could also be my forever, and I could be yours. I’d love a chance to find out, even if it hurts in the end. But maybe that’s just me. Maybe I’m the only one here brave enough to risk it. And- and what about my heart, huh?” Tears are threatening to spill, his voice shaking now, with sadness and anger, and desperation. He can’t let him go, he can’t. “You said I’d break your heart eventually. But this, right now? This is you breaking mine.” He finishes, almost panting now, his monologue taking the wind out of him, wanting to say everything on his mind, in his heart. He hopes he got his point across. 
“Evan.” Tommy just whispers, with a pained expression. There are tears in his eyes, too, one lone one slipping through, falling down his cheek. Buck’s hand itches to reach out and wipe it off, but he’s not sure if he’s allowed to anymore. 
“Give us a chance, Tommy. Let us fight for this. Fight for me, for us. Fight with me.” He’s aware he sounds like he’s begging at this point, but he doesn’t care. This is too important. “I thought it’s been so good between us lately-”
“It has!” Tommy rushes to say. “It’s been amazing. You make me so happy. That’s why I’m scared, I just- I’m sorry, Evan, but I can’t let myself get hurt like this again. Because I- I’ve been there before, and it was hard to get back up, and with you- I don’t think I’d be able to ever recover from this one.” He admits, his stone-faced facade crumbling, and Buck can see his own feelings reflected in Tommy’s expression. Sad, devastated, heartbroken. 
“We can- we can take some time apart.” Buck says around a lump in his throat. He feels like he can’t breathe. All he wants is to rewind until before he dropped the moving in bomb which must be what made Tommy freak out. He could say anything else, and take it slower, and maybe they’d be on their way out right now, a date night like they planned. “If that’s what you need. A break. But not for good. And then let’s come back to it clear-headed, knowing for sure what we want. And if you still want to break up, I- I’ll respect that. But I already know what I want,” he repeats firmly, decisively. “I want a future with you. I want to move in together, and one day down the line get married, and- and I want it all with you. We can slow down if I’m rushing this. I tend to do that, and if it’s scaring you, I’m sorry.” He adds, not wanting to backtrack any of this, but aware of how intense he’s coming off. He’s never been more serious about anything in his life. “But the past six months have been the best in my life. I’ve never felt so happy, so free, so comfortable, so safe. And I’m not giving up on you, Tommy. I will fight for you until I can’t anymore, until you tell me that you don’t care about me and I should just fuck off.”
“Evan. You know I’ll never say that.” Tommy responds quietly.
“I know. Because I’m confident in us, in the fact that you do care, and you do want me. I know that.” Buck emphasizes, and realizes, not for the first time, that he never felt like this before. This secure. This confident about someone wanting him. “I also know you’re just trying to protect yourself, your heart, and I get it. But I can’t let you go without a fight. I won’t. I messed up a lot in my life, and I won’t mess up this. I refuse to. Because I-” he takes a sharp breath, the words pressing on his lips. He doesn’t want to say it for the first time in a possible break up, a moment of such anger and devastation. But he needs to put it all out there. Needs Tommy to understand how much he’s trying to throw away right now. “I love you, Tommy.” He confesses, sees Tommy’s face melt into the saddest expression Buck’s ever seen on anyone, tears spilling freely now. Both of theirs, he realizes, feeling wetness on his cheeks. “I’ve been falling for you a little bit more with each day we spend together, with each minute. And I know- I hope you feel the same. But if you can look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t-” he swallows thickly, the thought alone is too much to bear. 
“I can’t do that.” Tommy interrupts quickly. “Of course I love you, Evan. It happened so quickly it kind of scared me a little.” 
“I noticed.” Buck says dryly, and Tommy lets out a humorless chuckle. “If you ask me, which you didn’t, by the way, you decided for both of us, which was an asshole move,” he points out, and Tommy looks away, as if ashamed. Good. Buck loves him, which means he’s gonna call out when he’s acting shitty. “I’d rather give us a real try and get my heart shattered if it comes to this, instead of always wondering what if, always wondering if you’re my one who got away. Which you would be.”
“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, takes a step towards Buck, now just half a step away. “I’m sorry, maybe breaking up is too hasty. Impulsive,” he scoffs at himself, probably remembering how he called Buck that just a few minutes ago. Well, so maybe they’re both a little impulsive. Not a problem, in Buck’s opinion. “I don’t- I don’t want to break up. I never want to be away from you.” He says, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand flinches at his side, like he wants to reach out, grab Buck’s, touch him. Buck hopes he does. “It just- it seemed too fast. Like you got wrapped up in the moment. It’s still so new, I thought we were taking it one step at a time, and I didn’t-” he takes a deep breath, as if bracing himself, and Buck knows what he says is going to sting – and it does, it feels like a gut punch, actually, “I didn’t think you were as serious about this as I was getting. And I realize we should’ve done the mature thing and talked it out. I’m sorry. It’s just, we’ve barely talked about any future here. But I want it, of course I do. I’m just- I’m scared. My heart has never been in this much danger.” He looks into Buck’s eyes as he says it, more vulnerable than ever. This is everything Buck wants right now, for them to talk, to discuss this, to try fixing it, instead of one of them running away and the other giving up and not fighting for it. Buck’s been there, he doesn’t want a repeat.
“Tommy.” Buck is the one to close the distance between them, carefully brings his hands up to cup Tommy’s face, giving him a chance to back away, but he doesn’t. Instead, he breathes out a sigh of relief, like he craved Buck’s touch as much as Buck craves his. “You remember when I told you I wanted something with you? Even though I didn’t know what that something was yet?” he asks and Tommy nods slightly, Buck’s palms still resting on his cheeks. “I’ve been serious about you since that precise moment. About pursuing this, and wanting some kind of future with you. I know I tend to rush into things, it’s been a problem before.” He huffs a self-deprecating laugh. “I tried not to do that with you, but I failed, clearly. I just think from now on, we both should stay and talk and try to work it out if we have any issues with something. If you still want me.” He adds a little anxiously, but relaxed when he feels Tommy’s palms settle on his hips.
“Of course I want you, Evan. I always will.” Tommy says, that loving look in his eyes, that always makes Buck’s heart melt a little. That look that Buck loves so much, that made him think that Tommy might feel the same way.
“Good. Like I said, I’m not letting you go. Ever.” He says decisively, a huge weight that’s been there since the topic even started finally lifting off his chest. This might be the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and no matter the conclusion – which he’s pretty sure will be the happily ever after he’s always craved – it’s worth the risk, it’s worth everything.
“Good.” Tommy echoes, that gorgeous, scrunchy smile of his slowly spreading on his face, and it’s like sunshine came out from behind stormy clouds. “I don’t intend on letting you go, either. I love you, sweetheart. And I’m so sorry for… for this mess. For overreacting.”
“That’s fine, we’re past this- well, actually, we are gonna talk about it more, but at least we’re on the same page now, I hope.” Buck says, slowly leaning in. “I love you so much. I never want to lose you.”
“I’m sorry.” Tommy says again, and Buck just wants him to stop saying it. It’s fine, they’re fine now. “You won’t. You have me for as long as you want. I promise.”
“What if I want you forever?” Buck whispers, his face so close to Tommy's, their lips almost brush. It sends a shiver down his spine, like he hasn’t kissed him in days, when they just exchanged a quick kiss hello a few minutes ago.
“That works for me.” Tommy smiles again, and finally dives in for a kiss, but it lasts barely a second before he’s pulling away, Buck trying to follow. Tommy chuckles, running a comforting hand up and down Buck’s side. “But maybe let’s put a pause on the whole moving in together thing, huh? At least until we fully talk everything through.”
“Yeah, good idea.” Buck nods, his gaze flickering between Tommy’s eyes, now sparkling happily, and his pretty, kissable lips. It feels so good to be able to just have a mature conversation and resolve whatever issues arise. If they keep doing that, he thinks they’re going to be okay. He’ll make sure of that. “No need to be impulsive,” he adds, his lips twisting into a teasing smirk.
“Okay.” Tommy chuckles quietly, his cheeks reddening. “Just kiss me.” 
Buck doesn’t need to be told twice. He kisses Tommy like he means it, like he’s his person, like he’s the love of his life, trying to put all those emotions into a kiss. He knows for sure he’s getting the same intent back. And at this moment, in his kitchen, narrowly avoiding losing his love because of a stupid reason, he decides it. One day, not too quickly, but not too far into the future, he’s going to ask Tommy Kinard to marry him. And he’s more than sure of the response he’ll get.
[also on Ao3]
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theemporium · 7 months ago
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20 or 29 🩵 with max and lando (them forgetting dates) i want to bawl my eyes out please
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
29. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
.
They should have told you. 
They knew they should have told you, whether it was a message or a call or a fucking carrier pigeon. They knew they should have, or at least now they know they should have. And any excuse now just seemed pathetic, weak, unaccepting. 
It just added to the guilt bubbling inside them.
It had been a long three weeks with the triple header. Add in the week before where both boys headed to the factories of their respective teams to go over some upgrades and strategy plans, and it had been well over a month since you had seen either boyfriend in person. 
It was hard. Between work and time zones, it was hard to navigate a temporary long-distance relationship. But it was possible. You three made it work, but it wasn’t the same. And you couldn’t deny there was a part of you that envied them both, that envied the fact they were together and could lean on one another whilst you were stuck in another country. 
But they had missed you too. They had said as much in every phone call or good morning message you received them. Max had been relieved at the fact he owned his own jet, with both him and Lando excited to get in the air the second they were able to leave the track after the last race. They wanted to get to you as soon as possible, and you were excited to see your boys too. 
So, you dressed up a little—nothing too special, but it was more impressive than the pyjamas you had been in for most of your time home—and got a takeaway from their favourite cheat restaurant. You had set the house up, you had got snacks for a movie night. You had everything prepared for when they landed. 
And they never showed up. 
And it took a story from Daniel’s private instagram to see both boys in a club, celebrating with other drivers and colleagues, laughing and smiling and drinking. 
It was upsetting. It was fucking heartbreaking if you were honest. You had felt like you were going out of your mind missing them, going above and beyond for a stay-in date night. You had been so fucking excited and they hadn’t even bothered to send you a message to tell you their plans had changed. 
It really fucking hurt. 
“I just need some space.” 
Both boys stared at you, hopeless and lost and ashamed. Because maybe it was dramatic and maybe it was the last thing you needed after spending a month apart but you felt embarrassed and humiliated and a little out of place and—
You just needed a breather. You needed to spend time somewhere else, somewhere where you weren’t surrounded by constant reminders of them. And maybe in a weird, selfish way, you wanted them to feel the same kind of aching pining of not knowing when you were coming back. Just like you had felt the previous night, thinking they were going to be landing soon. 
“Are—” Lando swallowed harshly, his hands tightening into fists to stop them from shaking. “Are you breaking up with us?” 
“I—” Your eyes softened a little. “No. But I just…” 
“I’m sorry,” Max murmured, his eyes guilt-ridden and apologetic. “I’m so sorry. We are so sorry. It doesn’t change anything and we should have said something but—” 
“I know,” you said, your smile was a little fake and it broke the boys’ hearts to be on the receiving end of it. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose. And I know you’re both sorry. But it doesn’t change the fact that I feel like an afterthought in this relationship.” 
Max frowned. “Baby—” 
“I get it, you two are together all the time because you’re both racers. And I love that for you but,” you let out a long breath. “I think we need this. I need this.” 
“If it’s what you want,” Max eventually replied, nodding and blinking away the wetness welling up in his eyes. 
“Where are you going?” Lando asked, his voice soft and broken and it hit you in the chest how young he sounded. 
“I’m staying with a friend,” you said, and the boys knew better than to push for more details. 
Lando nodded, chewing the skin on his lower lip until it was red and raw. “We are sorry. We mean it.” 
You smiled sadly. “I know.”
.
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niqhtlord01 · 1 month ago
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Humans are weird: Social Battery
( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)
Alien: Friend Mark, I have a question.
Mark: Shoot.
Alien: Is there something wrong with human Jennifer?
Mark: You know you can just say “Jennifer”, you don’t need to add “human” in front of it.
Alien: Then how would you know of whom I speak?
Mark: I think it’s a safe bet that there aren’t any non-humans with human names.
Alien: I once met a twenty armed Morbigan named “Steve”.
Mark: ……….
Mark: So why do you think something’s up with Jennifer?
Alien: She went to a party with me earlier this week but afterwards she went straight to her room and has not gone to anything else since.
Mark: Is she sick?
Alien: She says she is done with people.
Mark: Ah, okay.
Mark: Don’t worry about it, her social battery is just recharging.
Alien: Is she part android?
Mark: No.
Alien: But you just said she has a battery.
Mark: It’s not a literal battery, more of an expression.
Mark: We use it when we are done interacting with people and don’t want to be around them anymore.
Alien: But I was led to believe humans are social creatures and need social interactions.
Alien: Why would Jennifer not want to be social?
Mark: Her social battery is just smaller and the effort of being social takes a larger drain on that battery until its empty.
Mark: Everything then can start to annoy them at that point and they are just done with the situation.
Mark: People, places, things; they are over all of it and just want to go home and not have to put up with it anymore.
Alien: Why go out at all then?
Mark: Well like you said we are still human and we all need social interactions.
Mark: It’s just that some people only need a small dose of interactions to feel content, others need a large amount.
Mark: So it can range from getting a coffee together with someone to needing to hike a nearby mountain.
Alien: So she is not sick?
Mark: Nah.
Mark: Give her a few days and she’ll be right as rain again.
Mark: If you want to help speed it up, give her some extra blankets and snacks.
Mark: Just be sure not to disturb her too long if you do.
Alien: Why?
Mark: When our social batteries are down our tendencies to be polite and cheery go down as well.
Alien: It can’t be that bad.
Mark: Last time I had no social battery I was forced to go to a party for someone who just quit smoking.
Alien: That doesn’t sound so bad.
Mark: I got them a pack of smokes as a gift and was not invited back after they smoked the entire thing in front of their guests.
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signedkoko · 1 year ago
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Heyo! I return!!!!
Could I get a mammon, blitzø and alastor (separate) with a wife reader who’s really oblivious and ditzy? Sorta like a bimbo?
🦷 anon! <33333
Alastor | Blitzo | Mammon [Romantic]
In which their partner is extremely oblivious and ditzy.
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Well, that's what he was here for, isn't it?
To make it look like you know what you're doing, to be the reason or you little 'show'
According to the public eye, if you're his partner then theres no way it's not a character, Alastor would NEVER date a clutz, let alone have the patience for one
Alastor found these little whispers amusing
Everyone thought they had some idea of what he was, but they were always throwing darts at the wrong board
All the better for him, he gets the joy of you making every day new and exciting as well as the strange rumours people came up with about the two of you
Everyone else was just so boring, so pitiful to the overlord
Either kneeling to his every wish, or putting on a face until he left them alone, or the rare run away screaming
But when you bumped into him on the street, you asked him if he was that 'one guy who tortured people and put it online' before you even apologized
Then you asked if he would kill you, and when he said yes, you asked if he could not
Oh yes, that made him laugh alright, you were such a cracking star
Anytime you might ask something stupid, he turns it into a joke and explain it to you later behind closed doors
Falling? tripping over yourself? He catches you and makes it look like a romantic dip, or a small dance
To him, you're cluelessness has its charm, because you've always been so honest and forward about everything that he doesn't ever feel like he has to pull secrets from you
You also amuse his every little quirk, which everyone else just finds weird, so that's a major plus
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Oh my god he is so stupid
But you make him look so smart it's insane, just add you to the room and suddenly he's a genius
At first, it was just by comparison, but now in order to compensate for you he is always trying his best to be the smartest he can be
Especially in his line of work, Blitzo doesn't like the idea of making a mistake that could cost your life
So instead he trains to make sure he can save you when you need it
You guys are very damsel in distress/knight in shining armour
Except this kind of backfires because him being so serious starts to get him caught a lot...and you always manage to get him out (usually by mistake)
Like that one time you busted into a room full of 20 armed demons and dropped your gun when they came at you, but it went off and landed in a crate of explosives
I mean both of you were very injured but you both got out soooo
" You really are the dumbest slut I know, my sweetie-pie. "
He gets really defensive about you, though
Sure, he’s your husband so he can make fun of you
But if anyone else calls you anything along the lines of stupid or useless he blows up on them
Sure, you're a bit oblivious, but they don't know your talents, and all the things you teach him behind closed doors
He won't let anyone get away with being cruel to you
A little bit of a roger rabbit and jessica rabbit duo
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Honestly exactly his type
Extremely wealthy husband and his bimbo wife?
The newspaper headlines go crazy for you guys and your strange duo, and a lot of photos of the two of you together are popular
Sort of funny looking tree man and his dolled up wifey
He's not really the brightest either, not when it comes to simple things that don't have to do with money or his status
So you are both very oblivious to things that aren't entirely straightforward and always have to whisper back and forth about a topic until you can figure it out
Two idiots in love
Nevertheless, he loves your dependance on him
He likes that you are always by his side in case you need help, so you are safe and sound
He's just as clingy as you are, he always has one arm around your waist
Calls you all sorts of sort of derogatory pet names but in a loving way
Dolly, sweetheart, gorgeous, legs, etc etc
Honestly though you are also probably explaining as much to him as he is you, just in different topics
But he has the confidence to go with his lack of knowledge and obliviousness
And confidence gets you far
" Yeah, like, the moon is full once a week or some shit "
" Isn't it once a month? "
" No doll, that's how often a blue moon occurs. "
" Ohh! Like once in a blue moon? "
Anyone overhearing this shit is fucking rolling in their grave 
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Author's Note - Hiii welcome back tooth anon!!! Sorry this took a hot min, for some reaosn this prompt was so hard for me but I REFUSED to give up (Never sleep never what!?!?!) Thank you for requesting, and I hope you enjoy!
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revelboo · 21 days ago
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I’m officially addicted to your fics. May I request an update to TFP Shockwave’s story? 💜
Sure!
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Point of Extinction Pt 11
TFP Shockwave x Reader
• Head lifting guiltily from where you’re absolutely not doodling stick figure Shockwaves that are pretty much a cube head with rabbit ears, a rectangle for his giant mech-tit-whatever it is he has going on there, and stick legs. And his antenna go back the second he spots you, pointedly looking everywhere but at you. Which, considering his default mode is staring for an uncomfortably long time and barely speaking, puts you on edge. “Everything okay?” And how do you erase the screen? Especially now that you’re realizing his cannon doesn’t actually look like a cannon. Why had you drawn it like that? At a loss, you sit on the screen.
• Everything is needlessly complicated now. Not okay as you put it. Because Megatron had been playing with his human and hadn’t bothered to stop when he’d tried to report his research findings. And he keeps thinking about it against his will. About the sounds that human had made, the way they’d moved against Megatron’s servo. Wondering what sounds you’d make. “Thirteen, do you interface for pleasure or only to breed?” He asks and your little mouth falls open. Making him suspect he’s been neglecting your needs.
• What? There’s no understanding how his weird processor works, but that’s the last question you expected. And wary of him misunderstanding any way you answer him, your eyes narrow as his head tips, antenna still back. “Why do you want to know?” Because no matter what led him to that question, you’re probably not going to like it. What’s going on in that head of his? ‘Could provide a human to interface with if required for-’ Lurching to your feet in alarm, because you don’t want him kidnapping some random person thinking you need a fuck buddy to be happy. “No!” Antennae flicking, he begins tapping his cannon against a thigh in agitation. “No, we don’t do that with strangers, okay? We need to know someone, trust them.”
• Ah. Intimacy only with trusted individuals and that eases tension he hadn’t even realized was bracketing his frame. Realizing he didn’t want you to agree or to have to watch you couple with someone else. “Understood,” he rumbles, reaching to touch a servo to your soft head. He’s not had need for a holoform before, so he’ll need to format one. Or perhaps mass shift. Shouldn’t be curious at all about how you’d feel wrapped around his spike. Servo shifting to tip your chin up, that warmth he can’t quite pin down spreads through him when you lay a soft hand on him. “I will tend to your needs, then.”
• What now? “No,” you blurt and his antenna go back. “What I mean is thank you for the um, very kind offer.” He’s just staring at you. How does he even think that would work? “But I’m good.” Sometimes you really hate his lack of face, you’re pretty sure you’re probably offending him, though. And you don’t even care about the stick figure with the dick cannon, because this is so much worse. He’s so damn serious about it, head tipping like he does when you swear he’s thinking about dissecting you. “I promise I’ll keep it in mind, though,” you add weakly.
Previous
Next
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acowardinmordor · 2 months ago
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I think when Steve gets Vecna'd, Eddie adds together what he knows about the situation and comes to a logical conclusion. To him at least. He knows that Steve came here asking for heavy drugs and high quantities. He knows that Steve was sounding a hell of a lot like 'sleep' meant something worse.
He knows that Steve is X, and that means all of the horrible things that Eddie knows X thinks about himself, the guy in front of him thinks that too. He knows that Steve, ever since the letters stopped, has been upsetting the freshmen by being distant and cold.
The only assumption he can come up with is that Steve already took something, and it's hit. Or it's causing a reaction. Or its a bad trip.
He has no hesitation about touching him, immediately checks his breathing and his heart rate. It sorta, kinda seems like an overdose, a little bit could be an allergic reaction, but Steve is trembling like he's scared, and his body is stiff. Those explanations don't make perfect sense, so he watches for something that would mean it IS medical, and heads towards his better guess.
Bad Trip.
Steve is high, and is in a bad brain place, and that means he needs to be grounded. Music helps, right? When he was on that bad trip with Rick after his first senior year, Rick put on one of Eddie's tapes, and talked to him. Calm shit. Encouraging shit.
Eddie fully ignores the flickering lights - electrical gets weird in the trailer sometimes - and grabs the mixtape he made for X, and shoves it into his sorta fucky boombox. It's a mix of X's favorite songs, and the ones he mentioned in his own letters. He doesn't know if Steve ever listened to them, but that tape is the only thought he has.
Gets it playing, and grabs hold of Steve's arms. He knows that Steve stopped talking to him. Since Steve knew who he was, and Eddie didn't know who X was, it means Steve probably doesn't care if Eddie wants him to be okay.
Eddie talks about how everyone else feels.
He tells him about how protective Dustin is. How angry Lucas gets anytime anyone says a bad word about Steve. How Eddie has never seen Robin smile so much. How no one judges him for needing to repeat a year. Everyone knows about how hurt he got, and everyone gets it. No one thinks worse of him for it.
He knows his voice isn't exactly calm and soothing, but the longer this insane eye-flutter, non responsive thing goes, the more terrified Eddie is.
"Steve, please, please, it's okay. Just find your way back. try to breathe, try to feel your body, and you'll be okay. I know - I know I've been an asshole to you. I know, okay. But the boys, Robin, shit, fuck, Steve, I need to apologize for shit, so you gotta slow down your breathing. Whatever you're seeing, it isn't real. I promise it's not real, okay? Come back to the real world and I can get you feeling better, I promise. Steve? Steve?"
He doesn't notice at first that Steve is starting to float. He's too focused on his face, the way his eyes are still rolled back. He lets go before he can notice his own hands rising with him. Shits too real, this isn't just a bad trip, he needs help, he needs an ambulance, a cop, anyone that can actually help Steve.
He has the phone in hand, and is about to dial when he turns back, needing to keep looking at him while he begs someone to come fast. He sees Steve in the air.
One step closer, then another. He keeps trying, another whispered sentence or three. But the lights are going crazy, and the music is staticky, the dialtone is screaming, and suddenly Steve is flattened to the ceiling, arms pulling slowly to the sides.
Eddie runs.
Leaves the door swung open as he throws himself into his van. His hands are shaking and he's hyperventilating too hard to notice Max Mayfield sprinting across the road, up the stairs and into the trailer. He's pulling away, when Max screams as Steve falls.
He hears the scream, he hears and feels the heavy thump of a weight hitting the ground. He knows what that sound must mean.
Eddie runs.
Behind him with the tape still playing, Max holds onto a terrified Steve, who has trickles of blood on his cheeks, and bruises blooming on his arms.
Steve, alive, cursed, who immediately asks if Eddie is safe.
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cambankromyy · 7 days ago
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THE ISLAND LOOKOUT (pt.10): get a room - (smau & irl au) childhood bsf!rafe cameron x thornton!reader
series masterlist; general masterlist; taglist
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warning/an; kinda? implied smut/sexual content. i think real real smut is coming in ch.12... AFTER midsummers
part 9 - part 10 - part 11
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you pull into tannyhill, the headlights cutting through the driveway as you park. the drive from the chateau was quiet, the kind of calm you didn’t realize you needed until you finally had it, especially after almost being caught with jj.
sarah’s already out of the car and heading toward the front door, phone in hand. "need to grab a few things before dinner," she says without looking up. you just follow her inside, not even bothering to answer. you can hear her moving around in the kitchen as you take off your shoes and toss your bag onto the couch.
it’s quieter than usual. too quiet. you glance around, the house emptier than you’re used to.
"where’s everyone?" you ask, scanning the room.
sarah doesn’t even glance up. "wheezie day. ward and rose took her out."
you nod, not needing any further details. you’ve learned enough to know the deal with wheezie and her little trips.
you don’t ask about rafe, though. "oh, i think he’s with topper at the club," sarah adds, clearly not caring enough to offer anything else.
you just shrug. it’s whatever. not like you’d want to hear any more about them tonight.
dinner’s laid-back, comfortable. nothing extraordinary, just easy chatter and the usual back-and-forth. it’s simple. you laugh, maybe share some stories. by the time you finish eating, you're full and content, ready to crash.
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you drop sarah back off at tannyhill after dinner, settling into your bed as soon as you get home, scrolling through your phone. the house stays quiet, though you can hear the crashing waves outside and the occasional sound of footsteps outside. at some point, you hear the front door open. voices—muffled, indistinct. you figure topper and ruthie are back, a little earlier than usual— 10 pm. maybe drunk and stumbling, but then the voices fade, and you don’t think much of it.
until you hear it.
a sound. a very specific sound.
your brow furrows. you sit up, listening closer.
moaning.
you immediately groan, flopping back onto your bed. ugh. topper. gross.
it wouldn’t be the first time. he and ruthie were shameless, and unfortunately, the walls in this house weren’t soundproof. you sigh and grab your phone, fingers already moving before you can think twice.
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you put your phone down, staring at the ceiling.
it’s fine. you don't care. it’s just rafe. and sofia.
it shouldn’t piss you off as much as it does.
you do not care that rafe is here. you do not care that he’s with sofia. you are completely indifferent.
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that’s why you go about your normal night. that’s why you act completely normal as you brush your teeth, change into your pj's, and definitely don't press your ear against the wall to see if you can still hear them.
(you can. you hate it.)
when you get into bed, you try to go to sleep, but your brain is racing. you grab your phone.
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sarah doesn't text back after that, probably falling asleep.
you should do the same. but you don't.
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the next morning, you wake up early, which is unusual for you. but you refuse to let last night make you weird. you go downstairs to get coffee and pretend nothing happened.
and then you see them.
rafe is sitting at the counter, staring into the void, looking like he didn’t sleep at all. sofia is standing in front of him, digging through the fridge like she owns the place, casually sipping from his water bottle.
topper and ruthie are there too, sitting at the kitchen table, lost in their own world as they eat breakfast. topper’s half-asleep, shoveling eggs into his mouth like it’s the only thing keeping him alive, while ruthie scrolls through her phone, nudging him every so often to show him something. they don’t even glance at you when you walk in.
which is fine. you don’t need them to. you just need to get your coffee and go.
you grab something from the fridge, acting casual, pretending that nothing about this morning is off—that nothing about this bothers you. you brace yourself for something nauseating, some gross display that’ll make you want to walk into the ocean. but then you actually watch them.
sofia’s hand trails over rafe’s shoulder. he doesn’t even react.
she leans in, saying something in his ear, probably something flirty, and he just nods absently, barely paying attention.
when she kisses him, he doesn’t even move forward. it’s all her.
you shouldn’t be, but you are. you’re happy. overjoyed that he could care less about sofia—but it feels so wrong to think like that.
you snap out of it, grab your drink, and practically skip out of the kitchen, knowing sofia is just a stand in. for who? you don't know. but some part of you, a feeling buried deep inside, wishes for it to be you.
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tags: @italk2god @angelicameron @marleymarleymarleymarley, @queenvane64, @raeven-marie43 @idiotussupremus @sereneera @yesshewrites1 @inlovewithchriss @ethanthequeefqueen @amterasuu @popou61 @drewsstars @yannew @anothertimegirl @flvredcas @yootvi @mrsdrewstarkeyy @niaunofficial @cooper8224 @rafegetinmybed @pogueprincesa @6r4cie @adalia-lovelace @bee-43 @drewrry @masongetinmybed @defnotayonna @lcversvoid @my-name-is-baby @lolasangelz @polli05927 @laniirackssss @rafecameronswifeyy @starsval @hypnotizedstarkey
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irisintheafterglow · 1 year ago
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don't even know, i'm talkin' nonsense
summary: on his way back from a patrol shift, your boss gets hit with a mystery quirk that affects his speech. you're the only one in the office who can help him (pro!bakugo x you).
wc: 2k
cw/tags: swearing cuz bakugo's here and he's angry, miscommunication-based comedy, idiot(s) in love, coworkers to lovers, a little bit of angst/comfort but it's just for the plot yk
note: i'm not sure where the concept of this came from; i was just listening to sabrina carpenter and was like,,,, hey i can use this. so have this! hope you like it :))
likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated <3
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“Okay, go over it one more time for me. I think I’ve got it,” you reassure him, only to be met with a skeptical glare. “I’m serious; I think I understand it, even though it took forever.” You tap the whiteboard of the meeting room with the red marker in your hand, slightly tired from scribbling down as much as you could comprehend from your boss’ vague gestures. He exhales deeply, dragging a hand down his face, and gives you an impatient look. “Ready when you are."
“Fucking hell, I can’t believe this is happening to me.”
“I didn’t understand a word of what you just said,” you remind him and he shoots you a withering glare that doesn’t deter you in the slightest. “And don’t try to write it, since that clearly didn’t work.” You glance at the scribbled mess of letters scratched onto a yellow notepad of paper, Bakugo’s first attempt to communicate that something was off when speech was not working.
“I fucking know that! You don’t think I can’t remember that you have no idea what I’m fucking saying?” You blink at him, desperately biting your tongue to avoid bursting out laughing. Even though Bakugo had been hit with a quirk that was creating some very entertaining moments in an otherwise bland office job, he could still make his palms crackle dangerously in warning. “Remind me to fire you when I get out of this.” You can’t control your laughter that time and you let a snort slip from your throat, wincing when his scathing eyes stare menacingly into you. 
“Sorry, I am so sorry,” you laugh quietly, attempting to subtly wipe a tear from your eye. “It’s just that…that time it was a dolphin.” You scrunch your face to avoid laughing again and try so hard that it makes your stomach hurt. Your boss continues to stand there, absolutely mortified, while you add another animal to the list of sounds that have come out of his mouth. Since he re-entered the office after a seemingly normal patrol shift, the noises of a bear, horse, mouse, tiger, monkey, a bird you couldn’t identify, and now a dolphin had exited his mouth in place of his scratchy voice. You thought it was a sneeze, the first time the bear roar had echoed through the office, but were equally perplexed when you asked him to sign a form and the only answer you received was high-pitched squeaking. 
“There’s no fucking way,” he’d muttered under his breath when you first explained to him what you thought was happening. It became all too real as his face paled when you played what your phone recorded as his “voice,” which only came out as the insistent hoots of a monkey. He was used to receiving weird looks on the street, especially when civilians realized that they were walking next to one of the top Pros in the country, but it dawned on him that they may have not heard his usual voice when he barked at them to move. “And you’re the only one in the office right now?” 
“I have no idea what you’re saying,” you inform him carefully. “But, if you’re wondering if anyone else is here to help you, there’s not.” You can only imagine what kind of colorful expletives he yelled by the unrelenting scream of bird noises that left his mouth. “And I was about to leave, so if you want me to stay and help–” 
“I don’t need your fucking help.”
“Oh, great. You’re a horse now,” you deadpan, understanding from his facial expressions alone what he was trying to communicate. “Well, if you don’t need my help, have fun explaining to the guys why you sound like you swallowed a zoo.” Your boss’ face turns bright red at the idea of showing up to dinner with his old classmates in his current state. He fires off a single, precise shot at the rubber door stop before you can exit the meeting room, effectively locking you in there with him until you sort out how to fix him. “So, you do want my help?” You turn to look at him with a knowingly innocent smirk, delighted to find him seething in place but reluctantly nodding. “What’s the magic word?” A single horse neigh echoes through the meeting room and you head to the whiteboard. “Alright, let’s get to work.”
You spent the next hour and a half playing a ridiculous game of charades with Bakugo after the alarming discovery that anything he tried to write would become illegible scribbles. You figured that it was just an effect of the Quirk itself, which seemed to give the user the ability to communicate with different animals without being understood by humans. If an eavesdropper managed to figure out what they were saying, the words would become unreadable on the page for further secrecy. Despite inconveniencing your boss and preventing you from leaving the office on time, it did serve as an important tool in the Quirk-stealing weapons trade you’d been investigating. The only issue now was to figure out where Bakugo was hit. 
“So, you’re walking down 25th.” A nod. “And make a right on Pine?” His palm hits his forehead in frustration. “No, no, not right. A left, towards 24th.” Another nod. “And that-that alley, by the coffee shop with the good strawberry milk teas?” More aggressive nodding. “That’s where you got hit? With the dart?” He slams his hand on the desk, nodding furiously. You stare at him, slightly in disbelief as you pull out a rolling chair and slump into it. “How the hell did you get pulled into that alley?” 
“Someone was screaming for help and I’m a hero so I go help them, I don’t fucking know.”
“Dolphin again,” you smirk and he rolls his eyes. “But, really. You don’t ever go that route since it’s too out of the way from where your patrol ends. What were you doing on that side of town?” He pauses, his mouth drawn into a tight line and his eyebrows drawn as he searches for an explanation in his brain. Truth be told, he had no idea what possessed him to take that route back to the office. All he could recall were snapshots, little Polaroids of information that, if he pieced them together, made a relatively cohesive explanation. He’d snapped at you unfairly, a common snap of his temper, but the hurt on your face affected him more than he was willing to admit. Something bothered him about your tense expression and it continued to bother him when he was out of the office and kicking villains into the dirt. It seemed like instinct was the only reason why he headed in the direction of the cafe with the strawberry milk he knew you liked. “Well?”  
He blinks at you once, twice, and then stands abruptly and swings open the door. You watch him through the room’s tall windows as he enters his private office briefly and exits with a cardboard drink holder. A minute later, a plastic cup with the taut seal unbroken is unceremoniously set in front of you, along with a large straw to suck up the extra strawberry bits he knew you always ordered. 
“What is this?”
“What does it look like, idiot?”
“I know it looks like a drink, but why did you get it for me?” His eyes widen with the idea that you could understand him again, but you’re quick to shut him down. “And no, I can’t understand you yet. Right now, you’re a tiger.” You half expect him to launch the other drink, something brown sugar looking, at the wall; instead, he pulls out the chair next to you and stabs his straw into the plastic, gesturing for you to do the same. You obey hesitantly, eyeing him curiously as he avoids your questioning expression. “Thank you.” He huffs, something you’ve learned is the only response he gives to gratitude. “You really didn’t need to do this.”
“I hurt your fucking feelings, of course I needed to.” You’re staring at him again, you and your pretty eyes and kind smile and uncanny ability to withstand even his most fiery temper tantrums. He’d discovered his feelings for you months ago and it was like a speed bump was put in front of him every time you were near, always making him trip or say something stupid. Bakugo was never known to be good with his words or his feelings, but you made him feel so warm inside that he’d be a fool to deny what it was. “I guess it’s good that you can’t understand me right now because I can vent about how stupid you make me feel.” You hum, a fond glint catching in your eye. 
“That’s a new one. You’re a chicken right now.” You laugh and he can feel his forehead get airy, like he’d chugged three sojus. What he felt was sweeter, though, without the bitter taste that always followed alcohol. To him, you were pure light. 
“Makes sense, ‘cause I’m too much of a dumbass to tell you how much I care about you. Fuckin’ idiot.” 
“You sure have a lot to say, boss. Go on and let me pretend I’m on a poultry farm.” You take another sip of your drink and close your eyes, appreciating his unexpected gift. “A much needed vacation, in my opinion.”
“There you go again with your stupid sarcasm and your stupid laugh. You’re insufferable, you know that? Always making me run around in circles because I don’t know what I’m fucking doing around you.” You raise your eyebrows melodramatically and nod at him slowly, still having no idea what he’s trying to communicate. “You’re lucky you’re pretty because if you were anyone else, I’d fucking deck them right now.” Your attention shoots to him but gives no indication that you comprehended what he just said, so he goes on. “I wanna take you out to dinner sometime, but I think I’m a little too proud to admit how much I like you. Fucking hell, you don’t know what you do to me.” 
“Hey, boss?”
“The fuck do you want?”
“The Quirk wore off,” you breathe, in complete shock from what he just unknowingly confessed to you. You’d be less surprised if he’d told you that he murdered his way up to the top three. “You started speaking normally when you said,” you pause to try to slow your racing pulse in your ears, “that I was pretty.” You sneak a look at him out of the corner of your eye to find him bright red and mirroring your wide-eyed expression. “I guess the effects wore off pretty fast?” 
“Yep,” he forces out. “Must have.”
“You really think I’m pretty?”
“It’s why I got you the fucking drink, stupid,” he mumbles, still examining the shiny wood of the table. “Didn’t want you to be sad.” An idea pops into your head and you shrug, leaning nonchalantly back into your chair. You can feel his eyes watching you, reading your body language.
“I know something that would make me less sad.” 
“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” You shrug and let the corner of your mouth turn up, brushing a stray blonde hair from his face. You didn’t think it was possible to turn such a deep shade of pink and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t amused by how miserable he looked. 
“Take me out to dinner,” you reply, chuckling at the way his nostrils flare. “Repeat all the stuff you said while you were speaking zookeeper. Beside the love confession, of course. I understood that pretty well.” 
“God, you’re ridiculous,” he mutters, grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the office. “Next time I get you that strawberry milk, you’ll be there with me. Then we’ll both have that stupid quirk.” 
“Mmm, great. We can both tell each other how much we like each other while speaking dolphin.”
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slipperzipper · 3 months ago
Text
Heimdall x f!Reader (Smut!)
| Pairing: Heimdall x Reader
| Contents: Massive warning for those who do not like sexual content because this oneshot contains smut smut smut! Sex pollen, Masturbation, Grinding, afab reader, p in v, creampie, rough sex, and orgasms, let me know if I need to add other things to this as well!
| wrds: 3.2k
| Disclaimer!: Massive warning for those who do not like sexual content because this oneshot contains smut smut smut! minor Grammar and Spelling mistakes so apologies, Kind of weird start. also does anyone else still like heimdall? I know its been a year since I initially posted my first oneshot of this asshole. I'm deciding to repost this on tumblr since I know some people still like this man lol
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“I’m pretty sure a legless donkey could move faster than you.” 
Heimdall’s voice called out, the two of you had been walking through the wild jungles of Vanaheim. So far, if it had not been for Heimdall’s insults and petty comments, it was going well. The flora constantly grabbing at your ankles and causing you to stumble slightly each time you continued or turned into a new direction, but that was the least of your worries. 
The reason why you were in Vanaheim in the first place was for the All-father, or Odin for short. 
According to Odin, there was a lost relic in Vanaheim that he desired desperately. Apparently so desperately that he forced Heimdall to bring you with him for extra help. Unfortunately you couldn’t exactly say no since you wanted to look good in front of the All-father, accepting the offer with a feigned smile. You were his guest afterall.
“I’d move faster if it wasn’t for your constant insults!” You laughed, you were a couple dozen feet behind him, he just had to lead the way since you were ‘too incompetent’ to do so. Your eyes seemed to be lost in the environment, its natural beauty and color was just a sight to behold.
You were almost jealous of the Vanir that they get to live in such a beautiful realm, but you were soon kicked out of your thoughts as the sound of the golden god yelping hit your ears. That caused you to walk a bit faster, before turning into a jog, then into a sprint in order to find him. You knew he couldn’t be hurt by a person or animal, but plant life? Can’t exactly read a plant’s mind if there’s no mind to read. Even when Heimdall was a dick, you knew Odin wouldn’t exactly be happy if his most loyal son died to some miniscule threat.
But that isn’t what you saw when you found him. There was a small red-pink plant next to him releasing a dusty spore, his arm covering his eyes before backing up and falling on his backside. You grabbed him from under his shoulders and dragged him out, his grumbles consisted of the plant and how he hadn’t needed the help.
“Heimdall! Are you okay?” You asked, your hands propping on your knees as you looked down on him. He groaned at this strange feeling bubbling in his chest. “Yes- yes I am fine.” Heimdall reassured before pushing himself up to stand, trembling slightly but ultimately walking it off.
Why was he acting like this? He was being complacent and hadn’t insulted you yet for asking if he was okay. This was out of character for him, even his tone was out of character, and you hadn’t failed to notice. “Heimdall, are you actually okay?” Your voice asked again right as you walked in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. 
“Yes, Of course I am fine.” Heimdall’s voice shook a little, catching you off guard since his dialect indicates that he’s the biggest and best bitch in the world. “Are you sure ?” You ask yet again, he brushed off the comment before continuing. 
“We must find Gulltoppr before we return to Asgard-” Heimdall’s voice trembled worse as he stumbled towards a tree. His hand gripped into the tree's vines as a way to capture himself from completely falling. A strangled grunt rippled through the air and made you stop in your steps towards the god. 
He sank to his knees while he had a full body reaction to the sensations around him. Heimdall was feeling all sorts of sensitive, even when he had moved his hands to catch himself, they were all tingly. 
When he heard your muddled voice call out to him for the umpteenth time, his heart skipped a beat when his brain processed your sweet words. Heimdall! What’s happening to you- Answer me! Your hands grabbed at his tunic and turned him around to see a sight to truly behold:
The Scion of the Aesir was sitting on his knees, in such a seductive and submissive pose that rattled your brain. His usual cockiness was wiped from his face and was instead replaced with bright red blush and with quite the pleading pout settling on his lip. His hands now finding purchase on gripping your clothes, his knuckles turning white from how hard he was grabbing. 
“H-Hey man, can you stand-” How he hated how your voice sounded. How it sounded like it was coated in the sweetest honey in of all the nine realms, he was easily entranced by it. From your point of view he looked hypnotized, absolutely lost in something.
He groaned when he felt the back of your hand touch his forehead, checking if he was possibly burning up from the plant’s spores. You weren’t technically wrong with that assumption because his entire body was emanating warmth, you could easily feel it when you planted your hands on his shoulders after he let out that little noise. 
“(Y/N).. please I-” He cut himself off with a pant and a down turned head tilt. “I need you.” 
He knew he would have some form of regret after this if he were rejected, whether that in your head that he was a little submissive slut or that he was so weak he got caught off guard by a plant of all things. He didn’t exactly appreciate the circumstances that led up to him on his knees. But he would soon know what you thought of this situation anyway. 
He brought his head back up to stare directly into your eyes, his bright purple ones held lust and need with parted lips. Speaking of his lips, they seemed a little bit more plump than what they normally were. You hated the fact that you knew exactly how his lips looked, from the quick snags you got when he wasn’t looking that you didn’t think much of until now. 
Shit! You just remembered he could probably read your thoughts right now. You got your answer when his lips tugged into a small crinkled-eyed smile before bringing you down by the grip he had on your clothes. His arms sliding around you to bring you into a tight hug when his mouth planted itself next to your ear.
“Please- Can I- Please may I have you?” His voice tickled your senses and caused shivers to go down your spine. It was just so desperate that you felt like you couldn’t say no. He moved himself from the side of your head only to look into your eyes again, just to read what little thoughts you had. Hues of colors were all he could see at the moment before the thought of him actually letting him have you in a jungle of all places, it was absolutely strange to you. But the look on your face told a different story. 
You would be a liar if you hadn’t at least one thought about what he looked like under all those layers, and that was all Heimdall needed to know before his hands found themselves hugging your hips instead. 
Forcing your body to grind down onto his newfound bulge. A moan erupted from his lips at the new found sensation adding onto his sensitivity. “Fu-Fuck..” Heimdall cursed while he continued to rub your clothed sex against him. The grip on your hips were harsh and it was like he was clinging for dear life, they were definitely going to bruise tomorrow.
“H-Heimdall!” You whimpered out when he grinded particularly too hard, the noise sounding like a siren calling sailors to shore. It was such a hypnotizing sound that he never wanted to stop hearing. The tingly sensation from the mutual rubbing was ever present in making his dick even harder.
“Heimdall!” You cried out his name once more. This time it actually captured his attention instead of adding to his sexual experience. He stilled his ministrations before retraining his eyes back onto yours, only to find them averted as he so desperately tried to read your thoughts.
“Are you sure of this? In the middle of a jungle..?” You barely whispered, but with his enhanced sense he could hear it as clear as day. He was reminded of his body’s blessing and curse that came from the plant’s spore when his body had moved against you by accident, a pathetic whimper erupted from the Herald of Ragnarok.
 
Your lips tugged into a small smile, you moved yourself against him just to tease him. Your shyness earlier muffled when Heimdall grinded against you once more, his lip quivering slightly as his gruff hands desperately grabbed and released your hips repeatedly. 
“Gah-! (Y/N)!” Heimdall cried out as his eyelids fluttered, his body jerking and his clothed pelvis flushing against yours. Forcing you to grind against him once more. He had panted heavily now, making you realize that he came in his pants. 
Your eyes widened when that piece of information dawned on you, you made the golden god himself come in his pants! You knew Heimdall wasn’t himself right now. He was high off his mind and you just made him come in his pants. Even when he technically consented, it still felt wrong. 
“Heimdall- I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-” You started to apologize before a weak hand planted itself on your mouth. “Just- Just stop talking.” The aforementioned god spoke with a harsh tone, you would lie to yourself if you said you didn’t feel a little hurt at his words. 
“You didn’t do anything wrong, you actually did quite the opposite.” His voice hinted. He brought his pelvis back to flush against your sex, you could feel your own wetness against him. You could feel him and how hard he was once more. He was hard again already?! 
“Yes. Yes I am.” Heimdall scoffed when he read your mind before a groan had caught him to keep him in check, how he was the one who was affected rather than you who was just as ruined as him but from natural causes. “You don’t mind helping me out, do you ?” He coyly asked with a head tilt just to further tease you. 
Heimdall had scooted you off of his lap so that he could stand and release the ache in his pants. Unfastening his belt and letting both his kilt and his pants hit the ground.You could only watch with a glimmer of shock, awe, and lust as his belt piles with the other clothes.  His cock was dripped in his own come, standing at attention with an angry red tip. He was also nicely trimmed and looked groomed, showing how well-kept he was. “After all, you did cause this.” Heimdall putting the blame on you was such an absurd claim, yet you couldn’t help but agree.
Heimdall couldn’t help but sigh when he did show himself, he felt so much better after letting his pants drop. But he also wouldn’t lie to himself when he thought about what you looked like underneath all those layers you wear. Coming back to you (who was still on the ground), he had grabbed the waistband of your pants, along with your undergarments, before pushing them to your ankles. Your lower half is on full display without any distractions.
It left him breathless, to actually see you. He soon shoved your upper half joined your legs on the ground, the harsh ground being familiar to you from the times when you sparred with the man. 
His fingers ran themselves through your folds, catching you off guard, causing you to squeak in surprise. You were wet, undeniably so, and Heimdall liked that. Your legs tried to crumple together but Heimdall prevented that with his polished hands 
“Tsk, tsk, tsk, You really thought?” He panted out while he scooted close to you, basically hovering over you. You hadn’t really noticed until now but the atmosphere of Vanaheim really made Heimdall’s appearance glow, he was truly handsome. 
He felt particularly nice in his sexual suffering for some odd reason, his fingers feeling your pussy up in ways that you liked. You cried out when he swiped small circles on your clit, holy Hel, the touches were electrifying. It wasn’t long before Heimdall lined himself up with your hole. Giving you one last look, one of pent up lust and desire and need. His cheeks are a bright red color that paired so well with his fuschia eyes. He slipped himself in.
The warm feeling of your cunt caused him to loudly whine. Even when it was just the tip, it was just the most perfect sensation. It was like a drug implemented in his veins and he couldn’t get enough of it. Lifting your legs so that they would be planted on his shoulders as he drew himself closer, helplessly hung there while he drove his cock into you slowly.
You couldn’t help but whimper and grip the ground, the dirt digging into your nails, below as he inched himself in further and further. He eventually bottomed out, his pelvis meeting yours in a lustful stance. He had just sat there, letting you feel used to his size, it was nice of him to do so in this state when you originally thought he would just fuck into your un-prepared cunt.
But that was soon the reality when he brought his hips back and then slammed into your walls again. A howl crawled out of you when Heimdall repeated his action. Then the harsh repetition began. The pain soon washed away as your body started to get used to it. Your velvety colored walls were gripping him like a vice, and he couldn’t be any more happier. His cock fitting into your body like the perfect puzzle piece, as if you were made to be fucked by him.
Heimdall was thankful for that plant now, rather than being annoyed like he was previously, he was now glad that he could fuck your pussy into oblivion.
You couldn’t help the babbling noises of pleasure that escaped and obscured the natural sounds of Vanaheim’s jungles and you absolutely hoped that no one else was strolling nearby. You’d probably die from embarrassment if someone did, but that didn’t seem to matter at all as Heimdall slammed into you. 
He knew he was going to come. He knew you were too based on your thoughts on how you could barely hang on when he kept hitting that part inside you that made you see stars. His nails digging into your skin in small crescents, if he had dug any further he would have definitely drawn blood.
A few more harsh thrusts and you were done, your pussy contracting around his cock as you came. A loud mewl echoed through Vanaheim. Shortly after, you felt his hot load stain your body, a warm feeling spreading from inside.  
Heimdall’s hips jerked while he trudged through, trying to get the most out of his intense orgasm. Pressing himself as deep as he could from this angle, spilling his cum into you. The god was staring into your eyes the whole time, it was like an explosion that entered your mind. It was an array of bright colors that he had the fortune to see. His thighs trembled dangerously as he caressed yours. 
You couldn’t help but be breathless. You haven’t had an orgasm like that since.. You couldn’t even remember. Your thighs shook with intensity even after he fucked you through your orgasm. Heimdall withdrew from your pussy with a disgusting squelching sound and sighed heavenly.   
But that wasn’t it. He wasn’t done and he quickly recovered and developed a boner in the matter of moments even after the previous two, how the Hel was the plant’s spore still taking effect?! 
“One more, please , just one more.”
Heimdall spoke while a hand reached your face, grasping it uncharacteristically gently, and had your cunt gripping at nothing. You nodded wordlessly before being caught off guard by being flipped to your hands and knees, your ass presenting just for the God of Foresight to behold. 
Behold he did, his hands now moving your pussy to see the absolute mess he had made. He could feel his balls aching in preparation of stuffing your slit once more. Your head tilted at its side, somewhat being able to see what was behind you, only to be pushed down with a harsh shove and his dick slamming into your hole. 
A whorish mewl was drawn out. Loving how full you felt, you pressed your ass against his hips. Bottoming out once more before slamming his dick back in. The wet sounds of sex rung through your fucked mind. Your thighs slapped against Heimdall’s, he couldn’t help but enjoy it even more while your plush thighs rippled with each clap. You could barely think now, only processing the big cock inside your now abused cunt sliding back and forth at a pace you couldn’t fathom. You could only drool, rest your head on your hands, and wait to come for the second time. You did, you shook as it took place.
As your orgasm continued, you realized Heimdall was still going. 
You felt your clit get touched and you instinctively hissed, you were feeling just as oversensitive as Heimdall. The only difference being that he was powering through it, you felt like you were about to scream. 
"Just endure. You can give me one more just like you’re giving me mine.” Heimdall reassured, swiping your clit in a softer, less lustrous and more kinder than before hand, and you couldn’t help but let out a choked whine. 
He knew you came again when you convulsed and sunk slowly again. He looked into your eyes again and saw the previous show from before but it was just a bit dimmer and blunt, and he couldn’t help but enjoy it even more.  Heimdall came once more inside, quickly placing you into a mating press, the ground below you dirtying your arms and knees. The hot feeling adding onto the sexual experience. He stilled while his come squirted for the third time this session and he wouldn’t lie if this wasn’t one of the greatest times he’s fucked before.
After waiting some time, He pulled out. Watching the slimy line of his own jizz disconnect from the tunnel of shared seed mixing together, but seeing some of it drip down onto the ground prompted him to slide his fingers inside, shoving it back in farther just for you to savor it. You gave a weak whine at the action, but it's not like you can do anything about it. 
“I’ll call for Gulltoppr, just- stay here.” Heimdall stated, just beforehand he had helped you back into your pants and sat you against the very tree he fell upon. Strands of your hair sprawled from your hairline, he brushed some of said strands past and back into your hair to make it look more presentable. He himself was in his own clothes as he stood
He soon took off to look for his beloved pet, you couldn’t help but notice the stumble he had every few steps.
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bell4donn4 · 11 months ago
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Getaway truck | a western road trip with Luke Castellan
Tags: established relationship,Luke and reader are basically the mom and dad of chb, reader’s godly parent is not specified.
Author’s note: tbh I’ve been lowkey obsessed w western Americana and road trips. I wanted this to be longer but whatever
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The humid wind coming from the rolled down window gently messed up your hair.
You sat quietly on the passenger seat of the washed out green truck you and Luke rented. It must have been a Ford 1967, or some other kind of vintage model.
You couldn’t tell, and honestly, you didn’t bother to anyways, too busy looking out of the window admiring the desertic surroundings; sipping on your drugstore coca-cola.
<<you smudged your lipstick>> he glanced at you, taking his eyes off the road to send you a lopsided smile. One of his big and rough hands rested on your bare thigh, exposed by your jeans shorts.
It was mid summer, almost autumn time, yet the western country side never failed to drain you out with its scorching weather.
<<did I?>> you pulled down the visor, inspecting yourself in the small mirror; but you could tell he was right by the red stain on the metal can.
<<oh yeah, I did>>
Luke laughed lowly while he took a turn to the left, hand strong and firm on the steering wheel. You admired him in silence, a sort of pride filling your ego as you looked at your boyfriend.
That day, he wore a white linen shirt, which he (purposely) left unbuttoned on the chest, making his Hermes dog-tag visible. A pair of sunglass used to sit in the bridge of his nose, but were now long forgotten on the dashboard. It felt weird to see him without the bright orange shirt.
This little getaway from camp was going more than lovely. Finally free from all the responsibilities you both had to take on. You couldn’t even imagine how the camp must have looked like in that moment, with both of the two head counsolers gone.
<<do you think they set the cabins on fire?>>
<<for how long have we been away?>> Luke said
<< half a day?>> you nodded
<<yeah then, the woods are probably already burning as well. Along with the cabins and all>>
he hummed in approval at his own answer, earning a giggle from you.
He caressed your thigh with his thumb.
<<im joking, I’m sure the kids will be alright>>
<<you sound like an old dad>>
He shrugged his shoulders, grinning; but just as it started, the conversation slowly died down.
In the background of your comfortable silence, a low melody coming from the radio filled your ear.
With Luke, you didn’t need to talk. No many words need to be spoken with a man like him. You have been together enough to understand each other in silence. Plus— that should’ve been a sort of vacation from the chaos of camp.
So you preferred not to add anything else, simply allowing the worries to occupy the back of your mind.
You turned the music up as Molly Parton started playing.
You enjoyed the song, humming along the robotic notes coming from the radio.
Fortunately, by the time you arrived at your destination— a lake far far away from the one you had to see everyday— the worries were all gone. Replaced by that fuzzy feeling that only being with Luke could give you.
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lamemaster · 11 months ago
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Made of Sugar
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Request: Hi! Hope this finds you well, mind if i req for a Thranduil x reader where they're like telling legolas how they met, maybe they met during the war of the last alliance? anyways love ur work especially the angst but now i need some not angst? cus im actually going to cry lmao
Pairing: Thranduil x Wife Reader
Genre: Fluff
AN: This has been due a long time! I'm sorry for the delay but this writer suffers from smooth brain 98% of the time.
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“Legolas Thranduilion!” Your voice rings out loud, breaking his thoughts. For once, he wishes his father's presence was there. “Have I not made it clear that you are not to go to the wine cellars?” You pinch your nose blinking furiously as was your habit when agitated. 
Legolas hasn’t known love stronger than the one he has felt for you, his eme. Your stories, your songs, the little stars you paint on the roof of his room– Legolas absorbs them with the wide-eyed devotion of a sunflower turning its face to the first rays of the sun.  
But all that love does not diminish the distress of your anger. You, the one who laughed most easily, whose smile could chase away any shadow, were now a storm cloud gathered over his head.
The familiar scent of cinnamon and woodsmoke that clung to you did little to soothe the storm brewing in your eyes. Legolas flinched – he knew the terrifying, steely glint that hardened your gaze when truly angered. It was a sight rarer than a dust storm in Greenwood, but all the more impactful when it came. 
 At barely 80 years old, facing your wrath felt far more daunting than any monstrous spider lurking in the Greenwood.
"You are too young," you said, your voice tight. "Just you wait until I tell Thranduil." You paced around the room, pinching the bridge of your nose, a telltale sign of your agitation. "Maybe he will listen and move the wine cellars away from the main palace."
Staring at the untouched cakes, Legolas yearned for nothing more than for this tension to pass. He longed to see your easy smile return.  The sight of untouched cakes, usually a source of joy, only emphasized the heavy weight of your displeasure. He longed for the days when your laughter filled the room, chasing away any shadow.
“Beloved queen of mine,” Thranduil sauntered in, his footsteps barely a whisper on the polished floor. The scent of pine needles and leather, a familiar trail, announced his presence even before he entered. “The cellar unfortunately cannot be moved.” Thranduil is already in the process of taking off his heavy robes while detangling his hair from the crown's tiny branches.
Legolas watched with a flicker of worry as your eyes narrowed in annoyance before you gave up to help his ada. "He went in there today," your gaze felt heavy on him even as you busied yourself helping Thranduil detangle the crown. "What if he drank your wine? That thing is disgusting and Legolas is too young. You must move the wine somewhere else." You placed the crown on the table.
Thranduil threw him an amused grin as your back remained turned to them as you instructed the staff to bring fresh snacks and tea. "What if I didn't get there in time…good thing Feren was kind enough to inform me."
"I am disappointed Legolas," Thranduil looked at him without an ounce of anger, and your glare at the king of Greenwood told him that this did not go unnoticed by you. "But I am sorry, my love," He looked up at you with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes, "The cellars must remain untouched. I would never in a million ages, change the place of our first meeting."
Legolas' breath hitched in his throat. You frowned. And Thranduil snickered in delight.
"You cannot be serious!" You replied indignantly.
"You met in the wine cellars?!" Legolas asked at the same time.
"We did, ion," Thranduil adds before you can cover his lips with your palm. Thranduil throws his head back and lets out a hearty laugh, the sound echoing through the room. A weird sight to see you this flustered, this agitated.
"We did not!"
"We absolutely did!"
"Well, I was 120," you say, a blush creeping up your cheeks. "You were not  princeling."
The servants gawk at the term of endearment that slips past your lips. Some almost drop the trays of food as they put them in front of you. But both you and Thranduil are too taken by the task of bickering like decade-old elflings. "Oh yeah, I too was of age," Thranduil counters with a twinkle in his eye. "Almost of age. Only 4 years shy of it."
Thranduil straightens up, taking a playful bite into a fruit cake. "Four years too young, my love," you smirk, the topic of Legolas' transgression long forgotten. The steel of your rage softened into its original inky warmth.
"I acquiesce, my respected elder," Thranduil bows dramatically, sending another wave of laughter through the room. Legolas watched in amusement, a flicker of relief washing over him as the conversation shifted. Your voices rose in a playful argument.
Legolas, eyeing the untouched cakes, finally understood. Your gentle nature thrived beside his father, much like the sweetness of a cake is best appreciated with a pinch of salt.
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