#reblog or comment if you’re a driver so I can follow you please!

[haru-dipthong]

Imagine languages are race cars 🏎️

There are two ways to be a language nerd: the race car driver, or the engineer.

The driver knows how to use their machine back to front. They make split second decisions without even noticing it. Their conscious mind dictates direction, while their subconscious mind controls the car with no hesitation. They are one with their tool.

The engineer knows how every little piece of the car works in tandem. They might be able to drive the race car semi-competently due to their extensive technical knowledge, but driving is not their specialty. Their focus is on knowledge of the internal workings of the car, not how to use it.

Langblr is full of people who are engineers. It can be seen throughout the “language is art” rhetoric so commonly reblogged. It’s true: language is art, and it is culture, and history. But it is also a tool. And the driver focuses all of their effort on how to use their tool (it takes a lot of time to train your subconscious mind). Meanwhile, the engineer can afford to appreciate the art in its construction, the history of the technology.

In my opinion, if you are an engineer, you are not “learning a language”. You are learning about a language.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The House Guest 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Summary: an old acquaintance calls in a favour, leaving you with an unexpected house guest.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The drive into town, or the few shops that cluster together at the midpoint of the backroads, is quiet. As you lazily steer around the long bends. As you come in sight of the beer store banner, you squint into the rear view. Bucky’s been so silent, you’re half certain he’s asleep. 

He sits with his arms crossed as he stares out the window. His eyes could be closed. As you roll into the gravel lot, he clears his throat. 

“Not much to this place,” he comments. 

You give a start and shift into park, “nope.” 

He nods as he unbuckles his seat belt and sits up, “quiet.” 

“Very,” you agree. 

He makes no other comment as he gets out. You really can’t tell how he meant it. Does he like the quiet? Hate it? Does he long for the New York rush? 

You push yourself out of the car and head for the front door. He steps ahead to get the door and you thank him. It’s not too unusual. A lot of the men in their plaid fleeces insist on doing the same. You enter and greet Dustin behind the counter. 

“Foster sending you ‘round again?” He asks. 

“Mr. Foster’s drying out. At least his wife says so. And I told her I wouldn’t bring him anymore gin.” You explain.  

“Ah, you got company,” Dustin comes to the end of the counter, “Dustin, and you?” 

He holds out his hand. Bucky shakes it with his gloved one and introduces himself. 

“Ha, boy, fingers’ cold already? Must not be from around here.” 

Bucky sniffs and drops his hand. He has both covered. It’s probably best he not draw attention. 

“Yeah, came up from the States,” he says. “Not a fan of the Canadian beer though.” 

“Ah, you like piss water. Well, head to the back, you’ll find that yankie river water.” 

You chuckle and shake your head. You go down the middle aisle and Bucky catches up to you with a grumble. You notice his glower as he peruses the cases. 

“Don’t take it to hear. That’s just Dusty. If you’re a hockey fan, don’t mention it unless you wanna hear about the Leafs for an hour.” 

“Right,” he nods and grabs a green case. “More of a baseball fan.” 

“Don’t mention that either. He’s a Jays fan.” You head down the far aisle and peruse the smaller bottles. That should be enough. 

“Thought you don’t drink,” he comments as you pick out the brown bottle. 

“Rumcake. I’m gonna check in on the neighbours later this week. Make sure they’re okay. Plus, you add a bit to some fried bananas. It’s great.” You explain. 

He drones again and clicks his tongue. He probably doesn’t care much about the neighbours or your mother’s rumcake recipe. You go to the counter and put the bottle down. As you reach into your pocket, Bucky leans the case on the edge. 

“Charge hers with mine,” he takes out his wallet and slips out some bills. 

“You don’t have to do that.” 

“Least I can do,” he insists and hands over the money, “Sir, you keep the change.” 

“Boy, this is a beer store, we don’t take tips,” Dustin scoffs. 

“Then put it in that charity box,” Bucky shrugs and hauls up the case. “Got somewhere else to go?” 

You take the bottle and say goodbye to Dustin before you follow. 

“Groceries,” you say as you follow him out. 

You fish around for your keys. What pocket did you put them in? You stop beside the driver’s side and search for them. Of course, you locked the car. 

Frustrated, you set the bottle on the car roof. You look down as you continue to pat your jacket. You finally find them and then you hear it. The subtle friction of the bottle slips down the curve of the roof.  

You panic and try to catch it. As you do, you press against the wall that appears behind you. Bucky reaches over your shoulder as he saves the bottle. You get your keys free and teeter between him and the car. He backs up. 

“Got it,” he says. 

“Uh, thanks,” you hid your discomfort. You weren’t expecting him to be so close. 

He easily carries the case under one arm and takes the rum with him around the passengers side. You unlock the doors and he opens the back to put the alcohol in front of the seat. You swing into the driver’s and get yourself situated. 

You’re overthinking. He probably didn’t even realise how awkward that was. You put your keys in the ignition as he drops in through the opposite door. 

“Real friendly around here,” he remarks as check the rear view. 

You reach over to grip the passenger seat as you crane to see behind you. By accident, you grab his shoulder. He grunts and you release him quickly, grabbing the seat instead. 

“Sorry,” you say. 

“It’s fine,” he shrugs and you slowly reverse, hooking around to put your car straight.  

You rescind your hand and turn forward, steering out of the lot and down to the next street. There, the grocery store is a bit more lively with the early risers. You draw up and park again. You get out and he follows suit.  

He grabs a cart before you can. You’re not sure if he’s being overly helpful or what. You walk beside him toward the front doors. As you do, Cathy comes out with a paper bag in her arms. Before you can hide, she shrilly calls your name. Great. 

“Oh, haven’t seen you lately,” she smiles beneath her fuschia lipstick. “Oh my,” her heavily lined eyes flick to Bucky, “and who is this? Don’t see a lot of new faces in Caribou.” 

You glance over at your escort as he stops the cart. 

“This is Bucky. He’s visiting Canada.” You say. 

“Visiting? Oh, how wonderful,” she walks up the side of the cart, squinting at him. She never wears her glasses. “Ah, look at him. Strapping.” She grabs his square jaw. 

“Um, Bucky, this is Cathy.” 

“Look at those eyes,” she squeezes him so her acrylics sink into his cheeks. He looks stunned by her latch on him. She is one of a kind, especially around there. 

“Uh, nice to meet you,” he speaks stiffly as she stands on her toes to inspect him. 

“About time you found yourself a handsome young man,” she lets go and he brings his hand to his cheek. 

“Cath, it’s not like that,” you chuckle. “It’s nice seeing you but we gotta grab some stuff.” 

“Oh, don’t let me stop you. Oh, the pharmacy got some of those new ones. You know... the ones with the ribbing,” she winks. 

You take a moment to catch her meaning. Your lips part but you don’t have much of a response. Bucky shifts beside you. 

“Gotta be safe,” she smirks, “anywho, if I was you, I’d be in a hurry too.” 

You set your chin and grab the side of the cart. You pull it along and Bucky goes with it. The silence is stifling. 

“She was nice,” Bucky says as you enter the store. 

“She’s... Cathy. Don’t mind her,” you say as you stop at the shelf of pears. 

“Been a while since anyone called me young,” he snorts as he lingers with the cart. 

“Well, around here, you might just meet a few of your peers. Or close to,” you mutter, paying overly much attention to the pear. You’re too embarrassed to look anywhere else. As usual, Cathy has to make her little comments. “You mind grabbing some maple syrup? I uh... I’m almost out?” 

He doesn’t respond right away. He wheels the cart up in front of you and backs up, “think I can manage that.” 

As he turns, you almost feel bad. You don’t want to treat him like an errand boy. You just need some space. You’re still getting used to someone else being around. All the time. 

[navybrat817]

Where Did the Time Go?

Pairing: Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You decide not to drink during game night, which leads to an interesting conversation with Bucky. Word Count: 1.6k Warnings: Light angst, tension, friends reconnecting, unrequited feelings (or so you think), slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning) Previous Part of AU: We'll Always be Friends A/N: More Dreamboat and Butterfly from my Reconnect AU! ❤️ Beta read by @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You weren’t sure what exactly happened between dinner and now, but you decided that the fun game night wouldn’t include drinking. You hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol since your meal. Even then, you were pretty sure you didn’t have much. Sharon brought out a bottle of wine before everyone finished eating and you took a sip of your glass out of obligation. If she noticed you didn’t finish your glass, she didn’t say anything, which you appreciated.

But you should’ve known that Bucky would catch on.

“Not drinking tonight, huh?” He asked as he took a seat beside you on the couch. Steve and Sam set up a game table and were already a couple of drinks in. So were Sharon and Natasha. You weren’t worried about them though. They could hold their liquor.

But can I hold my tongue if I drink? Or am I using that as an excuse?

“Not tonight,” you replied, holding up your cup of water. “Sticking with water.”

“You’re acting like we need a designated driver when we’re not going anywhere,” he joked, throwing his arm around behind the cushion, the same way he had at the dinner table. “Afraid I’ll kick your ass in Mario Kart if you get a little tipsy?” He asked, grinning when you smiled. “We can have a tournament? Just the two of us?”

“Hey, one of us might need to go on a liquor or snack run. You never know,” you said, setting your water on the table before you sank into the couch. “And it isn’t exactly a tournament if only two people are playing, is it?”

“It can be. We make our own rules,” he smiled as he moved a little closer. “Remember the time we had a tournament? We went to that shady looking liquor store after Sam spilled the last bottle of rum. The guy behind the counter had a bunch of clown masks.”

You laughed a little. How could you forget? “Yes! We had to open the living room window so we could breathe. And the cashier was actually a sweet guy, but you glued yourself to my side before that because you were certain the guy had bad intentions,” you said. Bucky and his protective streak made you feel important.

Until you weren’t.

Bucky must’ve noticed the change in your demeanor since he stopped chuckling. “Seriously though. Are you okay? Are you not feeling well?”

“I feel fine. I just don’t need to drink tonight,” you said, touched that he showed concern for you before a weird expression crossed his face. “What? Do I have something in my teeth?”

“No. You’re, um,” he tapped a finger on his knee as he tried to find the words. “There isn’t a specific reason you aren’t, is there? You're not…” he trailed off, but his eyes drifted long enough to your torso to fill in the blank.

You never understood the expression about eyes widening to the size of saucers until you experienced it just then. “Are you asking if I’m pregnant?” You whispered, careful not to speak any louder than that. The last thing you needed was the group questioning why Bucky asked such a question. “If so, the answer is NO.”

The sigh of relief Bucky let out, you weren’t sure what to make of it. “Sorry. I'm sorry. You don’t owe me an explanation for why you aren’t drinking. I just. I don't know why my mind went there.”

You couldn’t exactly tell him you're worried about getting plastered and revealing how you felt about him. Drunk confessions worked for some, but you didn’t think the odds were in your favor. “I still can’t believe you asked that,” you half teased, pointing at your stomach. “Not to mention, I haven’t been laid in ages. So, unless it happens via immaculate conception, that’s never going to be the case.”

The odd expression was back on Bucky’s face. What was his deal? “When was the last time you went on a date?” He asked with more interest than you expected.

“Months ago. Minimum,” you said, looking up at the ceiling as you tried to recall the exact day. “His name was Nick. We went on a few dates and he was nice enough, but he ended up getting serious with someone else. Haven’t gone on another date since.”

The clench in Bucky’s jaw almost made you smile. He had no reason to look so upset on your behalf. “I’m sorry. It’s his loss.”

“Don’t be. I’m kind of used to it,” you said with a nonchalant shrug.

“What the hell does that mean?” He asked, facing you on the couch and blocking the view of your friends at the table. “What exactly are you used to?”

Why does he sound upset? It's not like I’m not his girl.

“It means I’m used to guys not picking me,” you said honestly. As much as it hurt to think that way, saying it didn’t hurt as badly. “Think about it, Bucky. In all the time you’ve known me, when have guys ever flocked to me? When have you ever seen a guy take a chance on me when Natasha and Sharon were there? They haven’t and that’s just the way it is.”

“That’s bullshit. You’re perfect. And maybe people do see you, but you don’t see them,” he argued, quickly closing his mouth when he saw your expression. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“No, I think that’s exactly what you meant,” you said, sitting up to put some distance between the two of you as hurt filled his eyes. “I see just fine, thanks, but please enlighten me. Who saw me? Who did I overlook? I’d love an example.”

There was no reason to get so defensive, but did he understand how you felt? People gravitated toward Bucky and your friends. They always had. You, on the other hand, were on the outside of the house looking in. It was tiring to be the one knocking on the door.

“What about your old friend, TJ? You’re telling me he didn’t see you?” He asked, a hint of bitterness in his voice. It wasn’t a tone you heard from him before. It didn't suit him.

“TJ?” You asked, confusion written all over your face that you couldn’t fake if you tried. “TJ Hammond? My old family friend? Um, no, he definitely doesn’t see me.”

Not even close.

“He stayed at your place after Steve’s party,” he said, running a hand through his hair as he avoided your gaze. “Bet he couldn’t wait to see you. Probably went over the second you got back from the trip.”

Wait, is he jealous? What the hell?

You laughed a little, unable to help yourself when he raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, he did stay at my place for a bit after Steve’s birthday bash a couple of years ago. He had an issue with his boyfriend.”

Bucky did a double take, which would’ve been humorous if not for the stricken look on his face. “Boyfriend?”

“Yeah. The guy he dated at the time was a HUGE asshole and they had a falling out. His parents refused to let him go back home, so he stayed with me. And I couldn’t kick him out. He needed a friend,” you said, your brows pinching when you recalled how TJ cried on your sofa. It was a heartbreaking sight. “He has a new boyfriend now who treats him well and he couldn’t be happier. And I couldn’t be happier for him.”

Bucky blinked a few times. “So, you two. You never…?”

“TJ and I? No. Never dated, hooked up, anything,” you smiled with a shake of your head. “We adore each other, but in a brother and sister kind of way. I mean, we’ve known each other since we were in diapers. Even if I did find him attractive, nothing ever would’ve happened. You, Steve, Sam, you guys are much more his type.”

Bucky didn’t say anything, his face a bit pale. You worried for a second that he was going to get sick. “I thought you two hooked up,” he said more to himself than to you.

Where the hell did he get that impression?

“No, we didn't and we never will,” you said again before something he said dawned on you. “Wait, how did you know he stayed at my place? He asked me not to tell anyone where he was and I respected his wishes.”

Going through the dates again in your head, it wasn’t long after TJ stayed with you that Bucky brought Dot around as his new girlfriend. You knew you lost your chance to admit your feelings because he had someone by his side. Someone who wasn’t you.

“Come with me,” Bucky said, taking your hand and pulling you up from the couch before you had a chance to argue. It was hard to keep up with his long strides and he didn’t look back when Steve called after the two of you.

“What’s going on?” You asked as he pulled you outside and slammed the door. You watched as he took a few breaths, like he was trying to steady himself. “Talk to me, please.”

“I wasted two years,” he whispered, tilting his head to look at the sky. “Two fucking years.”

What is he talking about?

“I don’t understand,” you said.

“I made a huge mistake and I regret it,” he said, squeezing your hand as he faced you. “And I can't go the rest of this week without telling you. I wasted enough time.”

“Tell me what? Bucky, what did you do?”

And can we come back from it?

That literary edging. I'm sorry! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[sashaisready]

This Must Be The Place: Chapter 7 - Make it up as we go along

Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader

Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Bit of assault towards Bucky (but not enough to hurt him), a just a note that this probably isn't the healthiest dynamic...

Ah surprise chapter drop! Hope you enjoy. I probably won't be able to post again until monday now. As always, I appreciate your lovely reblogs and comments. I'm so glad people are engaging with this series and I hope you continue to enjoy it!! I’m afraid I don’t have a taglist for this series, I don’t use them as I’ve had technical issues with them in the past. Sorry!

(gif not reflective of how reader looks)

You knew he was right – you needed to clear the air, and fix whatever the hell was going on between you both (if anything). But you couldn’t resist being petty, lashing out after his poor treatment of you earlier. Granny always said be the bigger person…but she was a far better than woman than you.

“Sorry. Can’t. Not on the clock,” you shot back at him as you unlocked the car.

You opened the car door and his arm moved to your shoulder, holding you firmly to stop you from getting in. You held strong, not letting his touch melt you.

“Fine. I deserve that,” he said gruffly, “but I really do want to talk to you. Please”.

The softness in his voice caught you off guard and you found you were annoyed by the sudden wobble of weakness you felt. No! STRENGTH!

You sighed heavily. “Alright. Step into my office,” you gestured to the car.

You slipped into the driver’s seat as he dropped his hold from your arm, then he followed suit by getting into the passenger seat alongside you. The Mustang’s passenger seat looked almost comically small with his big bulk spread across it.

He turned to look at you, face perfectly illuminated by the parking lot lamps. It wasn’t fair that anyone could possibly look so hot in fluorescent lighting.

“This is a nice car,” he said admiringly as he looked around the interior.

“I know” you replied curtly. “She’s my girl”.

“What’s her name?”

“Sally”.

He blinked at you.

“Mustang…Sally? Really?”

You folded your arms defiantly. “Is that a problem?”

“No…no…it’s not…” but you could see in his face he was trying to hold back one of those stupid smirks.

“If you’ve come here to make fun of me you can get the hell out…”

“No! I haven’t. Christ. It’s just funny…that’s all. It’s…cute”.

“Shut up, James”.

“Ohhh…you found that out, huh?” he grinned wickedly. “Well joke’s on you, cos I like you saying it…”

You took a second to scowl and him, then stared ahead out of the windshield with your arms crossed, hoping you looked more mysterious stranger than you did tantruming toddler. The two of you sat uncomfortably in the resulting silence.

“I’ve been an ass,” he told you, his eyes intense.

“Yes, you fucking have” you growled back at him.

“I’m sorry…really-”

“Look…Bucky,” you interrupted him aggressively. “I get it, we kissed. It didn’t mean anything to you. Fine. Whatever. But you didn’t have to ignore me…you didn’t have to parade Amber around in front of me like-”

“Sugar…”

“No! I mean how hard would it have been to drop me a text? Or tell me you made a mistake? Literally anything…”

“Sug…can I speak-”

“I’m not some random girl in a bar, Bucky! You can’t just ignore me. We work together. You’re my boss. You can’t just lay one on me and act like I don’t exist and-”

“Sugar! I’m trying to explain myself here!!” he barked, but you seemed to be on a roll…the floodgates were open.

“And another thing! Why are you getting aggressive about me meeting guys?? I can date who I like! You don’t get to be angry, especially when-MMPH!”

Bucky had clamped his large metal hand over your mouth, quite literally silencing you. Your eyes widened in shock; his tactic must’ve worked because you were briefly stunned into submission.

“I’m sorry…that was rash of me, but I literally can’t get a word in edgewise…” he told you gently, his voice quiet as if trying to talk down a spooked horse. “If you’d just let me-”

You yelped and shrieked as you wrenched his hand from your mouth in disbelief.

“What the FUCK was that?” you squawked as you struck him on the shoulder. Not hard enough to hurt, if you even could hurt him, but hard enough for him to curse and utter your name in incredulity.

Suddenly you were climbing over the seat and swatting at him, your anger boiling over. The inevitable purge after holding everything in all night. You knew it must’ve looked funny as he was so much larger than you, but your anger outweighed any self-consciousness.

“What. The. Fuck” you cried out, punctuating each word with a thwack to Bucky’s torso as he swore and tried to shuffle back, but the lack of space in the car meant he had nowhere to go. He just bumped into the passenger window as he exclaimed at you.

He quickly became tired of your attempted assault and wrapped his arms around yours, trapping them at your sides and effortlessly pulled you over the seats. “Alright,” he said tiredly. “Enough of that!”

Suddenly you were incapacitated in his hold, essentially straddling his lap as you voiced your outrage and tried to wriggle out of his hold.

“Bucky! What the-”

“You wouldn’t stop hitting me and shouting in my face! Jesus! Do you have any idea what a menace you are?”

The two of you squabbled for a little longer, faces inches apart.

“If you would just listen…”

“You can’t just DO stuff like that!”

“Why do you have to fight me on every, single, thing?”

“Why can’t you just be upfront and direct with me for once?”

A sudden silence enveloped you both as if someone had flicked an off switch, the bickering now replaced with a shared penetrating stare between you the two of you. Almost nose to nose. It was as if you both realised your close proximity in the same moment.

You weren’t sure who went in first. But it didn’t matter. He freed your hands and they flew up into his hair as he kissed you roughly, and you kissed him back just as hard. It was heated, passionate but there was anger in there too. Pent up desire and rage, a deadly combination. You nipped roughly at his bottom lip with your teeth, and he hissed and retaliated by forcefully pulling you closer into him as the kisses became deeper and sloppier and your tongue was no longer yours but a separate force you couldn’t control. His hands made their way up your back, then moved back down across your waist, then he pulled you forwards and lifted your ass up and he squeezed fistfuls of it as he moaned into your mouth. Part of you wanted to slap him and call him a pervert but you were simply too caught up to do so. It was wrong but so right. You wanted to shun him and punish him, but you also couldn’t stay away from him. Damn him.

“You’re so annoying…” he murmured softly as he dotted kisses across your jawline.

“So are you…” you retorted as you rocked your hips against his lap and stretched to get more comfortable in the cramped car.

“I should’ve implemented a skirts-only uniform policy,” he growled as his hands explored the back of your jean-clad thighs.

“Stop talking,” you managed breathily before silencing him with another kiss.

He moved you further onto his lap again and you allowed him to. He was firm in his hold but never too rough. You leaned across him to pull the lever to recline the seat but in your urgency and ungainliness you managed to hit the horn with your backside, sending a loud tone that made both of you jump.

It seemed to snap you out of your stupor as you flung yourself back against the driver’s seat, your hands recoiling away from him like your fingers had been burnt.

“No…we gotta stop this,” you panted out as you regained your composure and smoothed down your mussed hair. The silence lay thick and heavy.

He sat back against his own seat looking a little bewildered. “Yeah…sorry. You’re right. I just…lost myself a little there,” he cleared his throat.

“You hurt me,” you told him meekly and unable to meet his gaze. “I feel really embarrassed. After we kissed…you didn’t get in touch. Then tonight you almost seemed annoyed I was there when you came in. And you spent the whole time with Amber, apart from when you got pissed at me for talking to another guy”.

You chewed your lip, mortified by your own vulnerability. But you were glad you finally said it out loud. It was the most honest thing you’d ever said to him.

You could see him nodding in your periphery. “I’m sorry, Sug,” he said quietly.

He took a deep breath. “That kiss…it did mean something to me you know”.

You finally turned to look at him, surprised by his admission. “What?”

He looked back at you. He seemed…smaller, somehow. “Of course it did,” he continued. “We both felt it, didn’t we? This thing between us. I feel a little crazy around you. You’re like this…brilliant woman. Smart and funny…makes the meanest spicy ‘marg for hundreds of miles,” he grinned.

Even you couldn’t stifle a chuckle at that.

“You also get under my skin in a way nobody else does. You make me so mad. But I can’t help being near you. And when you got hurt that night…I was so angry. Angry at myself for not protecting you. Angry at you for mouthing off and not getting help. I guess…I guess it sorta pushed me to finally make a move…and then Sam interrupted and…” he sighed “Fuck. I don’t know. I suddenly felt bad. I shouldn’t be hitting on my staff. Especially injured staff…”

“Yeah…but I wanted it too, Bucky. You know I did…”

“I know…But…I dunno, I wouldn’t want you to ever think I was taking advantage”.

You swallowed, absorbing everything he’d just told you. Yeah…that was reasonable. He was your boss after all and there was always going to be a weird power dynamic there, but you still had more questions than answers.

“Bucky…” you started quietly. “If you wanted the kiss…Why did you disappear? I didn’t hear from you…and then tonight…”

He interrupted you with a noise of frustration, but seemingly towards himself rather than you.

“Alright…look. This…well, there’s no way of spinning any of this that makes me look good here, alright? But I want to be honest with you…I’m not going to lie to you”.

You nodded, grateful for his candour but uneasy about what he might say. You stiffened but still turned to him and gave him your full attention.

“Okay…so. Like I said, I wanted the kiss. And I’m glad it happened. And I was gonna text…call…and I almost did so many times, I had your contact open on my phone and everything…but I guess…I panicked a little”.

“Panicked?”

“Yeah…I mean,” he sighed. “Because I really like you. And I’m not used to that. And on top of that, I’m your boss. And…you’re leaving town soon anyway. And…our relationship is sorta, volatile? I guess? I admit this is fucked up and chicken shit of me, but I kinda freaked out. I suppose I worried that if I jumped headfirst into something with you, it might be a mess. Or worse, I might fall hard, and it would be that much harder to see you go when the time came. I know you might think this is me taking the easy way out to give you the brush off…but it’s the truth”.

You sat in silence at his admission, eyes wide and lips parted. You were surprised at how open he was. The two of you had never really done ‘direct communication’ before…and it was eye opening to say the least. You knew deep down you agreed, you already knew that finally saying goodbye to him would be tough…you didn’t want to make it any tougher.

“I still shouldn’t have left you hanging like that. I’m sorry,” he told you with sincerity. “I’m not…good at this stuff”.

“And what about you and Amber? I mean the two of you…”

He sighed heavily, shaking his head. “Look…there is no me and Amber…”

“But-” you interrupted harshly. “I’ve seen you..”

“No. Seriously, it’s the truth,” he explained as he ran a hand through his hair. “Amber is cute. She’s fun. Again, I won’t lie to you – we’ve fooled around in the past. But I’m not interested in pursuing anything with her. She knows that, I’ve never lied to her about that. But she tries. And I do care for her. But it’s just messing around. We flirt and it’s fun, and I know it might look I lead her on, but I consistently remind her where I stand. I guess maybe she’s hoping I’ll change my mind? I don’t want to outright ban her from the bar…but she turns up…and some of the guys are involved with her friends…and I guess I’m too clumsy to give the situation the care it deserves because I don’t want to give her false hope, but I don’t want to be outright mean to her either. I know you probably think I’m just some meathead biker juggling girls, but I don’t like hurting people who don’t deserve it”.

You noted the concern in his voice. He really did seem to care about handling it right, even if he wasn’t very good at it. But you remembered the extent of tonight and rolled your eyes.

“C’mon Bucky…that’s all very well and good…but she was sitting in your damn lap this evening. So you’re not exactly taking a hard line with her….” You scowled.

“Yeah…and did you see the part where I rolled my eyes and moved her away?”

“Oh, come on…”

“It’s true! I told her to back off, but you’d disappeared…”

“Don’t insult me…”

“I’m not, it’s the truth!” He frowned. “Okay, fine, maybe I need to be stricter with her. We’ve just been doing this back and forth for so long I sometimes forget how it must look…”

“Poor little you…”

“Oh, don’t give me that. What about you, huh? Flirting and giving out your number in front of me?”

“That’s different! You were ignoring me…I thought you’d knocked me back!”

“I saw that message was from Wanda but you made out it wasn’t…I know what you were doing. You were enjoying me being jealous…And yes, obviously I was jealous, so don’t think make a whole thing of it”.

You stopped suddenly, your cheeks feeling hot as he’d caught you out in your game. “Oops. Um…okay. Fine…”

You both sat quietly until he spoke again.

“I guess both of us have played a part in this, not being upfront with the other about how we feel”.

“Yeah…” you sighed. “That’s true enough…I’m still mad, though”.

“That’s okay. I deserve it”.

He nudged you playfully and you couldn’t help but crack a smile. Damn him.

“Look…given how much drama there’s been already between us…Maybe we should just call it, put a stop to this thing and stay just friends and colleagues. Have quieter lives as a result,” you offered, unable to mask the melancholy in your voice.

He nodded. “Yeah…that probably is for the best”.

You felt sad…but you knew it was the right move. All this drama and angst and you’d only shared a few kisses. Imagine how much worse it would get? What if you’d slept together?? And he was right earlier, this whole thing did have an expiration date. You didn’t want to have to quit your job even if it was temporary. You didn’t want to leave on bad terms because you were banging your boss, or because you were insecure about who else he was banging. It all came back to the same bottom line…you didn’t need this in your life. Not now. Not with Granny’s house.

This was for the best. This was a mature decision. This was growth.

Wait.

Wait.

Why is he looking at you like that…?

What is he….oh.

Uh oh.

“Bucky…” you pleaded softly, but his mouth was already on yours.

“Just friends,” he mumbled into your mouth.

“Just friends,” you whispered against his.

Shit.

[adventuringblind]

If you’re still taking requests, can you please write a wolff!reader x charles leclerc fic? And they’re secretly engaged and in love and toto finds out and he doesn’t want them together and tries to break them up. Maybe they break up for toto and then he sees how sad they are w/o each other and how happy they were together? Angst to fluff and happy ending please 😭💕💕 Tysmmm i love your work sm

Romeo and Juliet

Charles Leclerc X Wolff!Reader

Genre: ANGST lots of it but a happy fluffy ending

Request: yes, and forbidden love? Yes please! Sorry if this is darker then you were thinking… I got a little carried away 😅. I am open for requests! Mainly for Max, Charles, Oscar, Lando, Daniel, and George.

Summary: Reader and Charles are in love. Unfortunately for them, Toto is determined to keep them apart.

Warnings: Angry Toto, sad reader, Charles trying to problem solve. MENTIONS OF SH but not description of it, MENTIONS OF SUICIDAL IDEATION but again nothing descriptive, bullying and toxic media.

Notes: written in third person. Please like, comment, and reblog. I like to hear from y'all. It makes me feel like a celebrity 🥹.

Also, I've sent up my account to let tips be enabled. I was debating whether or not to say this because i dont want to sound like im begging, but frankly, people opinions do not matter me me. If you like my writing and want to support me, please consider tipping my posts or my blog. I put a lot of effort into my writing, and it would mean the world to me. Obviously, I won't have my feelings hurt if you ignor this, but I wanted to put it out there.

Masterlist

She’d never been quite sure how it happened. How she managed to find her soulmate. The two are meant for each other. The only downside is that she is living a Romeo and Juliet parody.

Being a Wolff meant spending majority of her time around the race track or at the factory. From the time she was little, she was following her dad around.

Toto never had any hard and fast rules regarding being friends with people from other teams. He couldn’t stop her from being friends with those she spent majority of her time around. He did, however, have rules about dating. Mainly not to date a driver and if she was then he would allow a Mercedes driver.

So her options were Lewis and George. She liked both, but not in any romantic way. They are her brothers. She annoys them and them tease her and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Her and Charles had been friends since he first started with AlfaRomeo. The two clicked instantly and talked constantly. She was the first person he looked for after a good race or a bad one. He was her everything and she was his.

Four years later they started dating. Secretly, of course, because she didn’t want her dad smashing anymore headphones. They made it work and were willing to do what it took.

It helped that she already lived in Monaco since that’s where majority of her friends lived. It made sense why they would ‘run into each other’ so often since they live in a small place.

George found out by accident right before a race. He’d found her phone in the ground. It had fallen out of her pocket and she’d not noticed. When she had noted it’s disappearance, she tried to locate it by calling it with Charles phone.

George took one look at the caller ID and knew. The less then friendly contact name, mix of heart emoji’s, and Charles contact photo gave it away. He answered anyways. If Charles knew where she was then at least he could give her phone back.

“Hello, this is George.” He only got silence in return. “Hello…?”

“Please tell me you didn’t see the called name.” Came her voice from the other end. The desperation in your voice making him chuckle. He was never going to let her live this down.

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. Now can you please come get your phone.”

The two lovebirds were able to make more things work after. Being able to have George cover form them helped immensely. Dates became more frequent. Places they wouldn’t normally go were suddenly a possibility.

Lewis caught on eventually. He saw right past the sheepish smiles of George and Y/N. While she was sneaking back in the garage through George’s driver room.

Between George and Lewis the teasing only escalated, but the two of them were the best possible wingmen she could have asked for. They managed to distract her father away when she was cutting things close.

It didn’t last forever though. The ending of Romeo and Juliet isn’t a happy one.

Someone had managed to take a picture of them kissing. It was a cute picture. Charles kissing her on what was supposed to be a private beach during the sunset. A picture that she woke up to circling the medial faster that the cars on race day.

Charles woke up to her rapid breathing. Her phone lighting up the dark room with constant notifications. Charles wrapped his arms around her. “It’s alright amour. We’ll figure this out on day at a time.

Things were weird after that. She clung to Charles as she was ripped to shred by the media, the fans, and her father.

She was being called a traitor to her fathers team. Her father had labeled her disrespectful. It was an utter nightmare.

The two Mercedes boys stood protectively behind her. Toto’s voice getting louder by the second. She was still sitting in the chair opposite his. Her eyes downcast to the lightly colored desk.

“I don’t understand why you chose him. A rival team! How do I know your not telling him everything about our operations?” Toto’s voice was laced with venom. This arms waving around to exaggerate his point.

“Because I love him. And I would never do that to you.” She wanted to stay strong, but the tears were threatening to spill over.

“I don’t want to see you back here until you two are broken up.” He turned his back to her.

She quickly exited, George following close behind her. Lewis remained in the office.

“I think you’re being too hard on her.” Lewis pointed out. Still leaning in the wall close to the door. His arms crossed over his chest, staring at the team principal he holds immense respect for.

“Aren’t you concerned at all?”

“No, she loves her family to much to do anything like that.” Then he left. Finding the girl he considered his sister clinging to George’s shirt.

Both of them had seen the comments. Both had been asked about it during interviews. Both had told their fans to leave her alone. It hurt both of them to see how people were treating her. The names they felt no remorse for spewing. It made them sick.

Charles’ fans were not any better. He hated seeing them tell her nasty things. Spreading rumors they knew nothing about.

He’d tried reassuring her constantly that she is his everything, but he knew she was losing her family. The last thing he wanted to happen. He wanted to protect her from this. Guilt wracking his body because he felt powerless to do anything.

When he found her that day, sobs wracking her body as she went to find him, he knew how he could help her. The last option either of them wanted.

“I love you so much.” He said, cupping her cheek gently, letting the tears roll down his cheeks and attempting to wipe away hers. “But I don’t want you to lose your family because of me.”

Charles called George that day to tell him want he was going to do. George having understood his actions and promised to be there for her. So when the broken girl showed up at his house that night, eyes red and puffy, he’d already been ready for her. Carmen making sure that she had extra clothes for her in case she ended up staying awhile.

Charles’ next stop was to see Toto. The older man hardly sparing him a glance as he walked into the office. “I’m sorry for any inconvenience I may have caused you.” He started. Toto still faced the wall, refusing to look at him. Something Charles was grateful for. “Me and your daughter have parted ways. So, I’ll hope you’ll allow her to stay with her family. Neither of us wanted things to happen this way. But I’d rather lose her then watch her lose everything she’s grown up with and worked for.”

Charles waited a moment to see if he’d get a response before turning around and ducking out of the office.

He stayed with Pierre that night. Broken and defeated. His heart heavy with the sadness and longing to be with the woman he loved so dearly.

The media didn’t stop though. The news around them still trending. People still feeling the need to voice their disgusting comments.

Toto had tried to connect with his daughter, but received no response. In fact, nobody had. She hadn’t been to a race in months. Both George and Lewis had tried calling and texting her only to receive nothing in return. She hadn’t even read their messages.

Charles was hurting as well. He didn’t want to cause her anymore pain. So he distanced himself from everything that related to her. Carlos and Pierre had been watching his behavior. His head clearly not in a good place mentally. They were running out of ideas in how to help him.

Lewis was the one who caved first. He’d given her enough space, now it was time to invade it. He dragged George with him to her apartment in Monaco one morning. Determined to see proof that she was at least breathing.

When they got no answer, they searched for the spare key. The one she hid in the light above her front door. Relief flooding them both as George managed to locate it.

When they finally got the door open, they were greeted with the dark apartment. It looked like no one lived there. The fridge was empty and the cupboards almost mirrored it, aside from the open box of your favorite cereal.

There was broken glass along the counters and floor. Pictures had been taken off the walls. A few empty bottles of alcohol lay strewn along flat surfaces.

The woman they’d been looking for was wrapped in a blanket on the couch. Her chest slowly rising and falling.

George went to gently try and pull her from her sleep without scaring her.

Lewis on the other hand, went to investigate the rest of the rooms. Terrified at what he’d discovered.

He lightly jogged back to George, who didn’t want to pull her from her peaceful slumber, and tapped his shoulder. Motioning for the younger Brit to follow him.

Their first stop was the bedroom. Everything that reminded her of Charles had been stripped away. leaving only the mattress in the center of the room. The long mirror hanging next to the closet had been shattered. The glass that had fallen out of it scattered around the base word they’d seen people calling her written in thick black marker now divided by cracks.

Next, Lewis led them to the bathroom. The sight of it making George want to vomit. The bathroom mirror had also been cracked. Towels stained red line the countertop. Pills litter the bathroom floor. And the knife she’d been gifted by her father for her 18th birthday lay on the edge of the sink. 

Who is obviously what had happened here recently.

George who was struggling to look at the scene went back to trying to coax the woman, his sister, out of her slumber. Lewis making an attempt to at lease get the area safe. Their hearts hurt for her. They knew she was hurting but neither knew it had gotten so bad.

Charles was her soulmate. Both her and Charles knew it. They had envisioned their life together. A life that she saw every time she closed her eyes.

She tried to separate herself from his memory. Tried to distract herself. But she couldn’t get her mind away from him. How he made her smile. How he listened even to the pettiest things she complained about. She wanted that back.

If her family didn’t want her for it and Charles couldn’t stand to see her hurting, then she would get back there on her own.

If their story was like Romeo and Juliet’s, why shouldn’t it end in tragedy as well?

But their story keeps going. Because they are meant for each other. So they will find away even if they don’t know it yet.

The gentle touches of Charles ghosted over her bare arms. Her mind trying to hold into the feeling even if he wasn’t here.

She cracked her eyes open to the dark room. Her body revolting as she tries to sit up. Her dehydration finally getting to her. Her head pounding from last night events.

She’s had a few episodes like this and knows she needs to get help. She doesn’t know where to start though.

She hadn’t really eaten much the last sixth months. Even food reminded her of him. How was she ever going to move in at this rate?

Then she noticed the sounds of breathing beside her. The familiar face of George greeting her, though his eyes are sad.

She immediately sits up. The horrible scene that is her apartment now clearly seen by one of the last people she wanted to know she’d sunk this far.

“George?” Her voice merely a quiet rasp.

“It’s okay now, we’re gonna help you. Okay?” His voice cracked. The male is clear distress.

Lewis came around the corner upon hearing voices. Relieved that she’d woken up. “I think we need to talk.”

~

Charles hadn’t been staying at his apartment. He knew he wasn’t in a good place mentally, so he went back home. His mother welcomed him with open arms, sad to hear the news of the two splitting.

He’d talked to Lewis and George about her during race weekends. Their lack of knowledge causing his concern to grow more with each passing week.

He’d tried for sixth months to force himself to move on but he knew it was in vain. She was made for him and he belonged to her. How was he supposed to move on from that?

Pascale had struggled watching her middle child. He struggled to eat, struggled to sleep, to the point it was affecting his performance.

“You should talk to her.” She suggested.

“I’ll only hurt her more.”

“I’ve been looking in social media for her. The things people are saying is terrible.” She sighs, the situation itself only getting worse. “She needs you.”

~

Toto knew he messed up. As soon as he’d made her choose, he knew. Only to have it confirmed when he heard the waver in Charles voice. When he didn’t see his daughter for moths. As he watched Charles performance fall.

He’d tried to contact her. Susie had encouraged him to call her the night everything happened. He’d received no response for sixth months. He’d asked Lewis about her only to be met with his sigh and sad eyes.

It’s like she disappeared from the planet. Everyone worried about her. But they collectively decided that maybe she needed space.

He knew she and Charles were happy together. He’d seen how big her smile was when she was with him. Even when he thought they were just friends. The two of them had been contagiously happy.

~

The next race came around quickly. At least for Charles that’s how it felt as he strode to the Mercedes paddock.

He spotted Lewis and George and weaved his way towards them. Everyone trying to get one roared for the weekend. Exactly what he should be doing.

“Charles! Listen mate-“ George had started. But Charles cut him off with the urgent need to speak with Toto before he could get in his head. “I need Toto. I need to see her again.” He was ready to break.

“He’s in his office.”

Charles didn’t waist any time making his way there. The older man a bit startled at the sudden appearance. “I love your daughter. I am begging you to not make her choose.” He was pleading but he didn’t care.

“I’m sorry.” Toto looked pained. Charles is taken off guard by it. His reaction the last thing the monegasque was expecting. “I should have never made her choose. She was happy with you. So when you go get her back, tell her I’m sorry and that I want her to come home.”

Charles fumbled around with his words. Gesturing wildly with his hands but for some reason his voice was stuck in his throat. Eventually he just nodded his head, attempting to get across his thanks.

Lewis and George were still talking. So he did the only logical thing and tackled then both in a hug. “I need to know where she is. He’s not going to make her choose.” The smile on his face so big it might fall off. “Please tell me where she’s been staying.”

Lewis and George shared a look. One that didn’t go unnoticed. “We need to talk.”

~

They’d told him about her state. About what she’d been going through. How they found her that morning, alone and so far into her head they didn’t know if she was going to come out.

His heart shattered listening to them. The two were connected deeper then anything he could’ve imagined. He’s upset that he didn’t get the courage to fight for her sooner.

She’d been spending her time since they found her with either if the boys. Neither wanted to leave her alone after that. So they made sure she wasn’t alone after that.

Her apartment was still mildly wrecked but they weren’t worried about it. They just wanted to get her out of her head.

Now he had a chance. They had brought her with them. She didn’t want to come to the track so she was back at the hotel. Tucked away from the world.

Now Charles was speeding to her location. Lewis’ key card in hand. Determination filling his veins. He needed to see her, desperately. His heart ached the last six months. He didn’t want to never see her again. Charles loved her with his entire being.

The trip was a blur for him. Not even realizing he was at the door until he had no more steps left to take.

He decided to knock first. He wanted to be respectful. He’d use the key as his last resort.

He got nervous when the handle turned. What was he going to say? He didn’t have time to think about it as the door swung open. Revealing the love of his life. Still as beautiful as when he last saw her. Though his heart dropped at the sight.

Bags under eyes, her body smaller then he remembered. Then there was the white bandages running up her arms. She was wearing a tank top and sweats, obviously not expecting him to show up.

They stared at each other for a moment. Then the tears started. She was in his arms in a second. Clutching him like he would disappear if she let go.

He breathed her in. “I’m here, I got you, and I’m never letting you go again.”

[hungermakesmonsters]

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Six

Plot summary : When your friend interviews for a position at Anvil, you have a chance encounter with Billy Russo. He takes you for coffee and, by the time you’re done, Billy decides he’s anything but done with you.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Chapter Rating : R - some lots of smutty content

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Billy likes a bit of dirty talk during sex. It's pretty run of the mill, though there's some minor discomfort for reader during. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : ~5.1k

A/N : This chapter picks up straight after the end of the last one. It got a little out of hand but this is exactly what I meant when I said this was going to veer recklessly between fluff and smut. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this, and thanks for all the comments, likes and reblogs on previous chapters!! My posts don't seem to be showing in the tags anymore and I don't know how to fix it.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE

Chapter Six

For the longest time, you were content to stay exactly where you were; your hands on his shoulders while his arms remained around your waist, holding you safely in place while the limo made its way through the New York traffic. His dark eyes stayed fixed on yours, barely blinking, like he was afraid you might disappear if he took his eyes off you even for a moment. 

As the limo took a corner, he pulled you closer, holding you tighter against him, letting you feel the heat of his body against yours. The hands on his shoulder drifted to his neck, your thumbs running across his jaw through his stubble, still holding his gaze. You pressed closer still, feeling the now-familiar press of his erection between your thighs.

His hand trailed up your back to your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you in for a kiss. It wasn’t long before your hips were moving against his, muted moans muffled by his lips. It went on and on, and you were happy to lose yourself in him, but you both came to realise that you needed more. 

Eventually, Billy broke the kiss, breathless and staring at you like he was barely holding himself together, like he was losing his mind over you. You broke his gaze when you felt his hand on your thigh, slowly trailing upwards. He stopped for a moment, his thumb gently running over a faint scar, but he didn't ask, he didn't make you explain where the mark had come from before carrying on. Your cheeks started to warm and you found yourself glancing over your shoulder at the privacy screen, the only thing separating the two of you from the driver.

“He can’t hear us, you can be as loud as you want,” Billy smirked, looking at you in a way that felt dangerous,  like he was prepared to do anything to you, for you.

You bit your lip as his fingers crept higher, finally reaching the hem of your black lace panties - panties that were, by that point in the evening, embarrassingly soaked. Was the divide really soundproof? Did you really care?

“Then you should probably do something to make me loud,” you challenged with only a hint of nerves, knowing it was too late to try and stop it.

“I thought you’d never ask,” that smirk still on his lips as his fingers finally moved to touch you through the wet fabric.

His touch was slow, teasing at first, fingertips tracing your folds through your panties until a moan spilled from your lips. With that first victory under his belt, his touch became more insistent, finding your clit and starting to trace circles around it. You hadn’t thought it was possible, but you got wetter with every moment that passed, your arousal climbing through the roof.

“Billy,” you moaned, giving him his second little victory.

Your breath caught the moment his fingers slipped into your panties, biting back another moan, trying not to lose another point so soon. Billy’s gaze seemed to darken when he realised what you were trying to do, how you were trying to deny him. He ran his digits through your arousal, spreading it from your slit, coating his fingers in it, before turning his attention back to your clit.

His smirk disappeared, replaced by something more serious, something hungry.

“Oh God, Billy...” you moaned again, this time louder as he teased his fingers over your swollen clit. He kept going, expertly moving his fingers, strumming that bundle of nerves like you were an instrument only he knew how to play. Another moan slipped out and you soon abandoned your game; Billy had won, you couldn’t keep quiet when he was touching you.

You got louder with every sound that left you, letting Billy know that you were defeated. But, still, he wanted more from you. That hungry look on his face was far from satisfied. 

His fingers ventured lower again, the tip of his index finger teasing your wet opening, slipping inside slowly before pulling out again. You keened every time he almost gave you what you wanted, your hips moving, trying to show him what you needed.

“Please -” you didn’t even realise that the word had come from you, but it did something to Billy. His eyes sparked with want and need, but he continued to toy with you, until; “Billy, please…”

Slowly, finally, his finger slid into your trembling pussy right down to the knuckle.

“Is this what you want, sweetheart?” He asked and your body answered for you, clenching and fluttering around his finger as it started to stroke into you. The fingers in your hair curled tighter and you couldn’t decide if Billy was trying to hold on to you or keep himself anchored. The hunger in him only seemed to grow as you moaned and writhed against his touch, and you weren’t sure which one of you was going to break first.

“Such a needy little pussy,” he muttered and all you could offer him was another moan. A second finger joined the first and you cried out, clumsily rocking your hips against his hand while your inner walls tightened. “Fuck, sweetheart, I’m gonna enjoy stretching you with my cock…”

Your cheeks started to burn; you weren’t used to dirty talk, but hearing those words from Billy made you crave more. You bit your lip, too embarrassed to tell him that you were going to enjoy that too. Billy seemed to notice your embarrassment and he soon turned it into his next game. His fingers fucked you faster, bending and scissoring inside you, trying to prepare you for what was coming, searching for -

“Fuck!” You cried out as his fingers hit just the right spot, causing your back to arch and your thighs to tremble.

“Did that feel good?” You didn’t answer, his fingers continued to stroke into your body, but it didn’t feel like enough anymore. “If you don’t tell me, I won’t do it again.”

He wanted you to admit it, wanted you to beg and, as much as you didn’t want to, as much as you told yourself you were better than that, you knew that you weren’t. You’d never wanted anything more than you wanted him. He made you feel desperate, needy, and it should have worried you how much power you'd let him have over you.

“Yes,” you admitted, and he rewarded you by pressing his thumb to your clit.

“Do you want me to make you come with my fingers?” The smirk was back; he knew that you were his, that he was in complete control.

“Yes,” you moaned.

“Say it for me, sweetheart.”

“Make me come with - with your fingers, Billy.” As embarrassed as you might have felt, Billy didn’t give you time to feel anything except his fingers, fucking you harder and faster, hitting that spot inside you, over and over. Your hands found his hair, fingers twisting and pulling as his fingers drove you insane.

It took less than a minute before your back was arching and your whole body was shaking. His fingers kept their pace, dragging out your orgasm for as long as he could, while his other hand continued to hold you tight.

When his hand finally pulled back, you caught an expectant and somewhat uncomfortable look on his face.

“What?” Had you done something wrong?

“You okay? Last time you... you kinda panicked.” he explained with a gentle smile, reminding you of the party.

“I’m not going anywhere. I promised you the night, Billy.” And, to prove your point, your hands started to slip down his body, over his shirt, finding their way to his pants. You heard his breath catch as you quickly dealt with his belt and the fastenings.

“Are you sure?” You didn’t stop to answer him, too busy slipping your hand into his boxers to free his cock.

“I want you, Billy,” you told him, your eyes dropping between your bodies, finally getting a good look at his cock.

“Good, ‘cause I don’t think I can wait until I get you home.”

You might have laughed at his desperation if your attention wasn’t fixed on his cock; like every other inch of Billy, it was perfect. Long, thick, and impossibly hard in your hand, the tip already glistening. And it was all for you. You started to stroke him slowly while Billy fumbled in his jacket for a condom and, soon enough, he was knocking your hand away so he could sheath himself.

Without warning, he tore your panties and balled the tattered remains into his pocket, leaving you perfectly exposed to him. Billy took hold of himself, teasing the tip of his cock against your slit, while you gripped his shoulders and lifted yourself over him. You expected him to drive into you but, instead, he waited; he was going to let you set the pace, you realised. After a few deep breaths, you slowly started to sink down, letting out a grunt of discomfort as the crown of his cock nudged its way inside of you. Despite his preparation and how wet you were, you ached as he stretched you, so much so that you needed to stop after you’d taken the first couple of inches.

“Fuck, Billy, you’re so big…” You hated yourself the moment it left your lips; the most ridiculous and cliche thing you could have said. Your gaze dropped between your bodies to where you were now impaled on his cock, second guessing whether or not you could continue.

“Don’t stop,” he told you softly, his hand cupping your cheek, forcing you to look at him, “it’ll feel so good in a minute, I promise. Just keep your eyes on me, okay?” 

His words said one thing, but his grip in your hair and the spark in his eyes said another. He was fighting himself; he wanted to take control, wanted to fuck you hard. But he didn’t, he waited for you to move, slowly sinking down onto him, every hard inch filling you in a way that made you feel like you’d never been fucked before. You kept your eyes on his, watching every flash of pleasure as you took more and more of him. And, despite the ache, the feeling was intoxicating. Panting for breath, you buried your face against his shoulder, needing a moment.

“You feel so fucking good,” Billy moaned in your ear, “so tight, so fucking perfect, just like I thought you’d be.” His fingers tugged your hair, urging you to lift your head again. “Fuck me, sweetheart.”

His hand gripped your hips through your gown, urging you to move. The ache started to subside once you did and it wasn’t long before you were enjoying how it felt. Billy used his hands to guide your movements but he didn’t push for more than you wanted to give. But you wanted to please him, make him feel how you felt. You moved faster, clumsily riding him, moaning his name every time you sank down, and it wasn’t long until you felt your climax starting to build. A gasp slipped out as his fingers found your clit again and mercilessly pushed you over the edge.

You cried out as you came, so loud that there was no way the driver couldn’t hear you. Your body shook so fiercely that you barely noticed Billy moving you, laying you back on the seat so he could continue at his own pace. His arm hooked beneath your knee, pulling it up so he could fuck you deeper. Once he was in charge things turned faster, harder, giving you the full Billy Russo Experience (trademark definitely pending). He fucked you like you belonged to him and all you could do was cry out for him, moaning his name, over and over.

He grunted something that sounded a lot like ‘mine’ against your neck, nipping and sucking  the column of your throat in a way that you knew would leave a mark if he carried on. Panicked fingers quickly pulled his hair, not wanting to be branded by him, pulling his lips from your neck and leading them towards your own. Billy was happy to kiss you, to slip his tongue between your lips and dominate you in another way. It didn’t take much to make you come again, and the feeling of your walls convulsing around him was more than enough to finish Billy off.

The twitch of his cock inside you was dulled by the condom, but the groan he let out was more than enough to let you know that he was done.

“Holy shit,” he muttered softly, trying to catch his breath.

Billy didn’t move straight away, leaving you trembling beneath him, his cock still buried inside you as everything started to slow down again, his face hidden against your neck.  Finally, he sat back up, fingers trying to tame the mess you’d made of his hair and rolling his shoulder like he might have pulled something. You stayed where you were for a moment, suddenly feeling so cold and empty without his touch. Taking a deep breath, you awkwardly sat back up, smoothing out your dress and pulling it back down to cover your legs. Billy, similarly, had dumped the condom and sorted out his own clothes.

Your eyes drifted to the window, watching the outside world speed by. In the silence you found yourself thinking about what you’d just done - what you were going to do next. How were you going to go back to how things were after tonight? How would you ever get over this? The quiet between you dragged on for a few minutes before Billy reached for your hand and pulled your attention back to him.

“You okay?” he asked softly, leaving some space between you while he tried to figure out what you needed from him.

All you could do was nod, and that seemed to worry him more.

“Hey, talk to me. What’s going on?” He squeezed your hand.

“I’m just trying not to overthink this.” You admitted. Billy nodded before slowly moving towards you and wrapping his arm around your shoulders, pulling you towards him and holding you tight. You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Tonight is whatever you want it to be, okay?” 

That was the problem, you weren’t sure what you wanted the night to be, especially now that you’d had mind blowing sex with him.

“Can you just hold me like this? Just for a little while?” You asked softly, letting your own arm move across his waist.

“Of course,” Billy answered just as softly, tenderly pressing his lips to your brow.

His other hand pulled his phone from his pocket, but you couldn’t see what he was doing. Once he was done, the phone was slipped back into his pocket and his hand moved to gently stroke your hair.

“You look really beautiful tonight,” he offered softly, making you smile.

“I’m a sure thing, Billy,” you laughed softly, “you don’t have to keep flirting with me.”

“I’m just being honest,” turning a little and pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “I’ve been losing my fucking mind all night just looking at you.” You stayed quiet, not sure what you were supposed to say to any of that. 

Billy let the silence hang between you for a few minutes, holding you tight.

“I think this is my favourite part of the night so far,” he admitted. “This is why you. You let me have moments like this. When I’m with you I feel like there’s no expectations, no pressure, like you don’t want me to be anything....” 

“I like this too,” you answered, though you didn’t have the heart to remind him that this wasn’t going to last, that, come morning, it would all be over.

You let your eyes close, holding Billy a little tighter, enjoying the moment while it lasted. It wasn’t much longer before the limo was pulling to a stop outside of his building and, when the driver opened the door for you, you were pretty certain he knew exactly what the pair of you had been up to back there, but he didn’t seem to care, especially not after Billy had given him his tip for the evening.

He took your hand, an eagerness in his step as he led you into his apartment building, a grin on his lips that you couldn’t quite decipher - was he really that eager to fuck you again? The building's doorman welcomed Billy home.

“This just arrived for you, Mr Russo,” the doorman approached and you burst out laughing at the sight of the pizza box in his hands.

“Thanks, Marvin.” Trying to hold back his own laughter as he took the box and tipped the doorman.

Billy didn’t waste any more time, pulling you towards the elevator and putting a key into the control panel and hitting the button for the top floor - because, of course, Billy Russo had a penthouse apartment.

“I can’t believe you actually got us pizza,” you laughed, an irrepressible smile pulling at your lips. 

“You’re gonna need all the energy you can get for what I’ve got planned, sweetheart.” He joked and, suddenly, you were very aware of the fact you weren’t wearing panties beneath your dress anymore. (And for a moment you stopped to wonder what you were supposed to do in that situation - were you supposed to ask for the shredded panties back? What was Billy even going to do with them?)

Whatever clever answer you had for him was silenced the moment the elevator doors slid open, revealing his apartment. It was strange, really; while you’d known that Billy was obviously rich, it wasn’t until you saw his apartment that it really hit home. He must have noticed the way your jaw had dropped because he let out a little chuckle as he led you into his home.

“Make yourself comfortable, I’ll go grab us a bottle of wine.” He stopped by a coffee table set in front of a large corner sofa to put the pizza down before disappearing.

Finally, you were able to slip out of Tammy’s Louboutins, your aching feet reminding you why you normally didn’t wear heels. Rather than making yourself comfortable, you found yourself creeping across his apartment, looking around. Surprisingly, it felt - empty. Sure, there was furniture and pretty much every appliance you could think of from a hi-fi to a TV with surround sound, but there was nothing personal, save for a couple of photos on one of the walls.

You recognised Billy in them immediately, then Frank, and a few of Billy’s friends that you’d met; all dressed in their Marine uniforms, all looking a little worse for wear, but smiling regardless. But, other than that, there were no other photos, nothing that made the apartment feel lived in.

Soon enough you were moving towards the windows that ran from floor to ceiling, marvelling at the view of the city.

“It’s a great view,” he almost startled you. You turned back slowly, a creeping sense of shame filling you, like he’d caught you snooping.

“I don’t think I’d ever get bored of this view,” giving it one last glance.

“Me neither.” 

You didn’t dare ask which view Billy was talking about.

He sat down on the sofa, opening the pizza box before pouring two glasses of white wine. You made your way towards him sinking down onto the sofa beside him, eyes fixed on the pizza. Although you’d eaten earlier that evening, you found that you were surprisingly hungry. Billy gave a wave of his hand, telling you to help yourself as he picked up a slice for himself. 

The moment the slice hit your lips you let out an embarrassing moan and, from the corner of your eye, you could see Billy’s grin.

“So, uh,” you choked back a laugh, “this is a nice place. It’s very - big?”

“I bought it the first year Anvil turned a profit,” he explained, reaching for his glass, “I was feeling a bit… indulgent. I always dreamed of a place like this when I was a kid, I thought I’d finally feel like I’d made it once I had a place like this.”

“And did you?” 

“Not really,” he shrugged. “The problem with wanting is that once you fill one hole in your life, you realise that there’s another, bigger hole that can’t be filled with things. And, when you grow up in the system, there’s a lot of things you want.”

“You grew up in foster care?” Billy nodded and you had no follow up.

“Where’d you grow up? You don’t talk like you’re a native New Yorker.” He shifted a little, turning so he could see you a little better. 

You took a bite of pizza, trying to avoid the question for as long as possible.

“Islamorada, it’s, uh, in Florida.”

“You gave up sun, sea and sand for city life?” He asked and you just shrugged. “You still got family down there?”

“No, it’s just me now.”  

Billy seemed to realise that it was a sore subject and you didn’t want to say any more. In a way, it felt wrong sitting there with him, getting to know him when all of this would be over in a few hours. You made small talk for a little while, asking Billy about Anvil, telling him little anecdotes about work and what it was like to live with Tammy, all the while eating pizza and almost getting through the bottle of wine together.

Until you finally felt brave enough to say; “Billy, take me to bed.”

He didn’t say a word as he got to his feet, holding his hand out to you. You took it and soon found yourself being led towards his bedroom, grabbing his free hand when it reached for the lightswitch.

“Leave the lights off?” It came out more like an uncomfortable question, but Billy was happy enough to go along with it, closing the door behind you. With the lights off, the room was bathed in the gentle glow of the New York City lights, enough to see each other but not enough to see every detail and imperfection.

You moved quickly, fingers frantically pulling his shirt open, leaving Billy to shrug it off while your hands trailed down his exposed chest to his belt. His lips crashed against yours as your fingers worked and, soon enough, you were pushing his pants and boxers down his legs.

Before you knew what was happening, he’d turned you, his fingers tugging at the zipper of your gown, letting it drop to the floor next to his clothes and your bra soon followed. Billy pulled you back against him, his lips trailing wet kisses along your shoulders and neck while his hands explored your body. When his fingers found the faint ridge of a scar on your stomach, Billy paused, but before you could panic, the hand started to move again, slipping down and between your thighs. Your legs parted, longing for his touch.

“Still so wet for me,” he groaned, fingers running between your folds, “don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m gonna take good care of you.” 

He didn’t waste any time, sinking two fingers into you and fucking you with them. There was something rougher about the way he touched you, something demanding and desperate, like the last of his patience had finally worn away. It didn’t take long for you to come and Billy didn’t waste any time trying to drag it out; he just wanted to make sure you were ready for his cock. And you were, you were desperate for him.

You felt his cock twitch as you turned in his arms, your breasts pressed against his bare chest as you sank closer and closer, until your lips were ghosting his.

“Fuck me, Billy,” you breathed, giving him permission to take what he so desperately wanted from you.

His hands on your ass pulled you towards him, holding you against him as he stepped back and took a seat on the edge of the bed, pulling you down with him. Your lips found his while he reached for the bedside table for a condom, sucking his tongue as he rolled it on and positioned you against him. The hard tip of his cock grazed the slit between your wet folds before he rolled his hips upwards, pitching every inch of himself into you. He moaned at the feeling of your slick walls straining around him, stretching as you struggled to take him, still so overwhelmed by the size of him. But the ache felt good now, intoxicating even, and you knew it would stick with you for at least a few days once you were done.

You wound yourself around him, fingers pressing into his back, holding on as he started to drive his cock into you, higher and deeper, taking more control than he had in the limo. Fingers curled in your hair, gripping but not pulling, and little by little, you realised that you were finally getting to see a glimpse of the real Billy Russo, the side that he’d been holding back. Some part of you felt like you should be afraid, especially when his dark eyes found yours in the gloom; there was something about the way he wanted you that made your stomach knot, not with fear but anticipation. He wanted you in the darkest of ways, like you were prey and he demanded your submission before devouring you whole.

He fucked you like he was laying claim to your body, like every fibre of his being wanted you, needed you. And you craved it, you craved the feel of his cock inside you and his fingers gripping at your hips and pulling your hair, just as much as you needed his gasped groans telling you how good it felt. As he stretched you, as he filled you so completely, you got wetter, practically dripping all over his cock, your body telling him what your words couldn’t. (More, more, more.)

The heat of your body clamped around him, earning groans and a hundred filthy mutterings from him, telling you everything you already knew; you were desperate for him, you loved his cock inside you, your pussy was made for him and, your personal favourite;

“You’re never going to want anyone but me to have this pussy ever again, sweetheart. No one else is ever going to fill you like I do.”

His tongue slipped into your mouth, saving you the embarrassment of agreeing with him so easily, from screaming yes and offering him something that you knew you couldn’t give. But you couldn’t think about that. If it was only going to be one night, then you hoped that the night would last forever.

You moved with him, hips trying desperately to keep time with his, drawing him deeper and deeper, your soaked walls finally letting him move with ease. As your back arched, his lips tore from yours, his face buried itself between your breasts, tongue running over sweat-slicked skin until his lips closed over an already achingly hard nipple. He sucked your nipple while his fingers curled tighter in your hair, and nipped with his teeth while his cock continued to stroke fast and deep inside you.

Nails clawed against his back, his name falling from your lips, over and over again. You’d never felt such desperation, such eager desire.

“That’s right,” he almost growled as his lips pulled from your nipple, leaving it tender and swollen, “beg for me, beg me to let you come.”

And you did without thought, so ready to give yourself over to him, no longer thinking about anything but him and the feelings he was creating inside of you.

“Please - please, Billy, I need you to -” you panted, so willing to do whatever he wanted, to submit to his every need, his every dark desire, “- please, let me -”

You could see him smirking in the gloom as he tugged your hair, causing you to lean back, letting him change the angle. The tip of his cock found that special spot inside of you and his movements became merciless, filling you with so much pleasure you barely noticed the way he was still pulling your hair. You tightened around him every time he grazed it, moaning wildly, crying his name, until you finally shattered, flooding his cock and convulsing around him. And still he fucked you, pitching his cock up into you in a way that let you knew he wanted you to be able to feel him long after he was done.

By the time his release flooded the condom, your entire body was trembling and boneless, completely and utterly his in a way you didn’t care to think about. He pulled you back toward him, crushing your breasts against his chest and laying claim to your mouth with his tongue. Neither of you tried to pull away or sever your connection; you weren’t ready to lose the feeling of his cock inside you just yet, and Billy seemed equally reluctant to leave the warm embrace of your body.

As the kiss broke your head moved to his shoulder, taking slow and steady breaths as your body slowly came down from its high. After an immeasurable amount of time, he moved, lifting you up and putting you in his bed, climbing in beside you and wrapping his arms around you. 

Minutes passed in silence, his hands trailing up and down your bare skin until it felt like he’d explored every inch of you that he could. Similarly, your fingers ran across his chest, while you tried to commit every perfect detail to memory. It wasn’t long before he was kissing you, urging you onto your back so he could fuck you again. And that was how things went until you finally fell asleep; tender moments followed by desperate fucking, until you were aching and exhausted.

When you woke a few hours later, light was starting to filter into the room, and you knew it was time to leave. Gently, cautiously, you slipped out of his bed, pausing for a moment to look at him; he looked so peaceful and it struck you how you’d never seen him look so relaxed. Without thinking, you reached for him, wanting to run your fingers through his hair one last time, but stopped yourself at the last second.

You needed to get out of there.

You got dressed, found your coat and phone, and left before he could wake up and give you a reason to stay.

CHAPTER SEVEN

END NOTES : So, yeah, I got a little bit carried away with this one. I thought about making it into two chapters but there never really seemed to be a good place to stop it. Because the next chapter is set during Halloween (I know, I'm super late) I'm going to post it a little earlier, probably Wednesday.

Also for some reason my post don't seem to be showing up in the tag and idk how to fix that...

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this hope you have a great day!

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[thisismeracing]

This love is ours | LH44

― Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x fem!reader ― Word count: 1.4k ― Warnings: mentions of food, daddy issues, an ex-girlfriend, and reader getting hate; ― Summary: Relationships aren’t usually easy. Add to it the fact that you date a world champion racing driver, and your dad doesn’t really like said driver, and the media is ready to dissect every move you make. At the end of the day, the stakes are high and the waters can be rough, but what you share with Lewis is true love, and it’s yours (Based on this request).

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You knew what came with dating Lewis, knew that his past lovers would eventually resurface — some fans would bring them to the table, others would bring themselves, like that one time she showed up in the paddock. Lip Gloss glowing, hair perfectly styled, and doe eyes.

“Hey, Lew!” she had a beaming smile on her face. One you can only get when you still hold something tender for the person in front of you. When they still represent something to you. And considering he was the one that ended things, it wasn’t hard to figure that maybe ‘something tender’ was aching desire, love, and intention of getting back together.

“Hey,” he gave her a tight-lipped smile and a nod of acknowledgment. And when his fingers dug into your waist, bringing you closer you released a small breath of air you hadn’t even realized you were holding.

“How’s life? I missed you so much!”

The way she held her arms beside her body, fidgeting with her hands you could tell she wanted to hug him, wanted him to do something, but then again, everyone would want affection from Lewis. It was like an antidote. He would smile at you, hug you, shake your hand, pat your back, and suddenly the sky wouldn’t look as gray.

You couldn’t blame her, but you did feel a bit uneasy with her presence.

“Life is great. Have you met my girlfriend Yn?” Lewis turns to you, and this time his smile is softer, you can see his teeth, and the gap between them you adored. His hold on you tightens and you’re so into your own world gazing into each other's eyes that you don’t even notice how said ex-girlfriend gulped, moving from one foot to the other in clear discomfort.

No one else’s mattered when you had each other.

Ghosts from the past weren’t the only problem you faced with Lewis too. You had villains from the present too, and unfortunately, they happened to be close to you two, not by choice, but by blood.

“So, how's the racing career?” There’s a hint of judgment in your father’s voice.

It was typical of him to start things during family dinners. It wouldn’t be the first time, but you and Lewis were together for about a year now, and you were tired of listening to whatever bad thing your dad had to say about him. He would usually stick with snarky remarks about his piercings, and style, and though Lewis would always tell you he didn’t mind, you knew it hurt him because, in all honesty, it hurt you too.

“Good, we’re making some improvements on the car, hopefully, we’ll get pole this Sunday,” Lewis answers, completely ignoring your father’s tone and intentions. He lived with “kill ‘em with kindness” most of the time, but that was him not you, because the second your dad made yet another snarky remark, this time about his tattoos, you dropped your silverware on the table.

“Can you please leave us? Stop pointing your judging eyes at Lewis as if you were the best person in the universe. I’m tired of your conservative attitude, while you go around doing all the wrong things. Yes, Lewis got a new tattoo, and yes I fucking love it, and you know what? I will be getting one soon too. Do I lose my value because I decided to paint my body? I don’t think so, right, dad?”

You felt your face hot with anger, and by the stare your mom gave you, you knew it was clear how your words were actually thrown and not simply stated. You didn’t care. You were tired of the constant critique.

“I suppose those are old jokes, huh? I’m going to try and move past them,” your dad stated as if the things he had been saying had any hint of humor in them. Lewis’ hand found your leg, and he gave it a light squeeze, making you take a deep breath, and lace your fingers under the table.

He had you, and you had him.

Side by side no bad comment would bring you down and let you there.

And as it happens, when you’re dating someone as famous as Lewis, it may seem like there's always someone who disapproves. Someone to judge as if they know him and you, but you came to learn that those verdicts usually came from those with nothing else to do.

You had just opened your socials to check what was happening world-wise but came face to face with some gossip magazine hate article about how you did not support Lewis properly. You frowned reading the title but still clicked to see what their point was. And just like you predicted before reading everything it was a total of five terribly written paragraphs, based on nothing but false perceptions they had. It wasn’t the first time you got hate online because you were associated with Lewis. He was loved around the globe, but he was also hated because with the kind of fame and talent he had it came with both, the good and the bad. Whereas you would get pissed with those who bad-mouthed him, you wouldn’t spare a glance when the hate was towards you, too busy trying to focus on the good things to worry about people who had no idea about what was really going on.

Of course, some comments would hurt, and one thing here and there could plant a small seed in your head for a weekend, but it wouldn’t go past that. You wouldn’t let it. Lewis wouldn’t let it.

“What is it, love?” Lewis’ soft tone took your attention away from the phone.

You smiled up at him, closing your eyes when his lips found your forehead.

“Just people being hateful,” you explained, making space for him on the bed.

The Brit sighed, passing one arm over your shoulders, and bringing you close, “and you’re reading it?”

There’s no judgment on his voice, but rather sheer curiosity as to why you would indulge in something you know wouldn’t be good. You shrug, “I wanted to see what the point was, this one says I don’t support you properly.”

“They’re probably aiming to implant cheerleaders into F1 or something,” he joked, as he usually did, blessing the room with his giggle. You loved how he would laugh with his own jokes.

“Possibly,” you bit your lips and chuckle.

You wouldn’t post much about Lewis’ racing career on your socials, limiting it to commenting on his posts or liking an article here and there. On your profile, he was just your boyfriend, and if there was someone in the world who didn’t know who Lewis Hamilton was and saw him there, they would probably just guess he was a rich guy and go about their days. Both of you had agreed on keeping things like this, Lewis agreed with whatever would make you comfortable. And though you wouldn’t post much, you were by his side every Sunday, some weeks getting to him on Friday.

“They don’t know about me and you, love,” he stated simply, and you threw your phone somewhere in the room, getting comfortable beside the one person who matters. Your person.

Life played its part in love too. It could make everything look hard, and turn the stakes high, but once you’re set in your commitment, love is something worth trying for. At least that was something you and Lewis were sure about since the beginning.

“I’m sorry, I just really miss you and I was stressed,” Lewis spoke apologetically the second you picked up the phone.

He was somewhere around the globe, getting ready for Sunday, while you were at home, dealing with work and personal business. You wanted to be with him just like every weekend, but this time you weren’t able to and Lewis pushed a bit during a call, asking yet again for you to join him when you two had already talked about it.

You sigh, body relaxing on the couch. You hated when they fought being each on one side of the world. “It’s ok, Lew. I get it you’re under a lot of pressure. Don’t worry about me giving up because of a small fight,” you joked by the end making him chuckle. “We promised to try,” you reminded.

Lewis nodded even though you couldn’t see him, “Our love is worth it, it’s ours.”

“Yes, honey. This love is ours.”

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, besties! I hope you liked the piece, this was a request based on ours by Taylor Swift as I guess most of you could tell hihi. I hope this narrative switch with italics and regular writing didn't get you guys confused. Let me know if you liked it *mwah*  I wanted to add a huge shout-out to Coffee (my coffee emoji anon on Tumblr) for proofreading this <3.  

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©thisismeracing ― do not copy, steal, or translate my work; do not repost on a different media platform.  

[siconetribal]

Put it on My Tab (15)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!reader

Warning:

Terrible drivers, Picking on someone not your size, Jason being cute while trying to look cool, Stupid cupid strikes again

A/N:

Please comment/like/reblog. If you’d like to be tagged moving forward, please let me know!

As always, a huge thank you and shout out to @harlequin-hangout for the amazing banners you made for me. @vbecker10 , thanks for always listening and helping with all my idea rambles! This story sold have been stuck off not for you.

If you’re new to the story, please check out the master post for the rest of the chapters.

The evening traffic was not horrible, Jason had anticipated that it would be worse. The only terrible thing was the expensive brightly colored car that had cut him off when he tried to turn into the parking lot. Had it not been for his quick reflexes, he would have been forcefully acquainted with the pavement. He glared at the car as it took up two spots from poor parking. 

There’s no shortage of dumbasses here. He purposely parked a few spots away from the crazy driver when a well dressed woman came stomping over. Her mouth was moving and her eyebrows were furrowed, but he could not hear a thing thanks to the music that was currently playing through his helmet speakers. I’m guessing she’s pissed and trying to blame me for her shitty driving. He watched her arms flail about, motioning to the car that nearly hit him and his motorcycle. When she gave it a rough nudge in an attempt to knock it over, he frowned. Standing up at his full height, he looked down at the woman who stumbled a few steps back when she saw just how much bigger he was than her.  He scoffed at her attempt to try and paint him as the villain, but the lack of an audience only made her look even more ridiculous.

Huffing and puffing, she turned on her pointy heel and stormed into the cafe. Jason could only shake his head in response to the crazy person, grabbing something from one of his saddlebags. He carefully placed it in his jacket pocket, making his way inside and into the line. Normally he would’ve taken his helmet off by now, but he wanted to surprise a certain barista. What was not planned for was the rude customer causing a scene, the same person who nearly hit him with a care. Seeing as no one wanted to step up, Jason took matters into his own hands.

“Why don’t you call him? Since you say you know him so well, call him. Let him know that you’re harassing his employee for doing her job and following his rules implemented in his establishment.” He cut into the conversation, stepping forward as others made room for him. The look of shock on Y/N’s face when he removed the helmet was plenty of reward for his noble act, but he was selfish and wanted to do more. He wanted to see more of her reactions, but first he needed to get rid of the eyesore. 

The woman flinched at first, but when he removed the helmet her attitude completely changed for a third time. He noticed the flushed color on her face from all her shouting was quickly softening as she stood taller and fixed her clothing. It was painfully obvious that she found him attractive now that she saw his face and it took a good level of control to not roll his eyes and curse her out for making a mess wherever she went.

“I know how this might look just walking in, but she has been quite insolent this entire time. I am merely trying to teach her her place.” She was calmer, but her tone was cloyingly sweet. It made him feel suffocated and uncomfortable.

Don’t do it. She’ll tack on to Y/N and that’ll only cause more problems. “Not from what I’ve seen since you walked up here. Did you forget you nearly hit a biker with your car and cursed them out? Hi, that biker was me. Now, get your drink and sit quietly or leave, or you can call the owner and he can check the CC footage to see what happened. You pick,” he kept his tone leveled and firm. Any attempt of her flirting with him was clearly useless and he was not going to even entertain being anything except cold and disinterested. Her face paled and she ran off to the pick-up counter,

“Thanks for the help. I’m sorry you had to step in like that.” The genuine smile of relief she gave him was a direct shot to his heart. It injected warmth into his veins and filled his chest with immeasurable pride. There was also an ache underneath it all, but he pushed all of it aside to focus on the conversation.

“Don’t mention it, I told you, I save damsels in distress. You just happen to be in distress more often than most.” He smirked and winked at her, earning an eye roll in response. “I’ll have to insist you clock out for the rest of the day though. You look exhausted and after all of that, you deserve a free night at the least.” The two other employees were quick to jump in and assist him in trying to get Y/N out. Seeing as they had it under control he simply stepped aside and waited for her to come around after clocking out when his ears perked up at a particular word used to describe him. She’ll correct it, there’s no point in expecting anything else. Though he was smiling, that odd sting from earlier was back. Yup, any moment now. He sighed, waiting…and waiting. Only to hear the door open and close with no argument from Y/N. The next thing he knew, he was being dragged out into the chilly autumn night.

Wait, she didn’t correct them?! Does she not mind it? Well now, I guess I’m just meant to play the role.  Her coworkers waved and wished them a good night. Y/N refused to look back while Jason was grinning to himself. The first time he played the role of her boyfriend was way back when she was being harassed by some older guy who slipped something into her drink. Now he was being mistaken for it and it made him chuckle.

“What are you laughing at, oh great capeless crusader?” She scoffed, turning to face him as soon they were outside the doors. “Well, whatever drink you wanted to get is cancelled now. Sorry about that, you can head to some other coffee shop if you want. You don’t have to spend time with me or anything, I’ll just cross the street and play at the gaming lounge.” She pointed to the strip mall which he went to on that fateful day thanks to the IP address.

“And what kind of boyfriend would I be if I just bailed on you like that?” The grin on his face only grew into a smug smirk as she scowled back at him.

“The kind I actually have, nonexistent.” She managed to retort.

“So you’re single.” He mumbled to himself. Good to know. He logged the bit of information away as he looked across the street at the dying strip mall. Slipping his hands into his jacket pockets, he felt the smooth wrapping and paused for a moment. “I came all the way here to give you this.” He slipped his hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a sandwich bag with a zipper lock that held three dark squares in it. It was the brownies she had joked about earlier. “I’ve gotta make up for my lack of texting somehow.” He handed the baggie over to her and watched her carefully hold it in both her hands, wide eyed and smiling. Another direct hit to his heart at the purity and innocence of her happiness.

Y/N carefully cradled the confections in her hand, afraid to smush them even just a little bit. It was a simple gesture that made all the stress and frustration from the day quickly melt away. She really did want a brownie after talking to him about it, but the last thing she would have thought was him bringing her some. “Did you make these?”

“Yeah, I dabble in baking from time to time. I live on my own and living off of fast food has lost its appeal.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “They aren’t anything super fancy, I didn’t wanna risk putting in something you can’t have or you just won’t like.” Y/N ducked her head in hopes to hide the blush that was warming her cheeks as she gently placed the treats into her bag. She knew her initial judgment of him was not the kindest due to the coffee fiasco, but he proved himself to be someone more respectable and straightforward.

“Thank you, you really didn’t have to though. But if it helps, you did earn some points.”

“I’ll take whatever I can get. So, did you really want to go to the lounge or is there a chance I can sway your decision?” 

“Oh, what do you have in mind?” Y/N felt her facial temperature was more regulated at this point so she looked up at his face once more. He’s really too handsome for his own good. The price to pay for seeing it so often is pretty steep though.

“Maybe dinner, my treat? There’s a really great diner not too far from here. I always hit it up when I’m in the area.” She carefully considered his offer, looking over at the lounge. It had been a while since she last logged on and her usual buddy was nowhere to be found. She was hoping to possibly catch him tonight, but she knew there was no promise that he would be online. Biting at her lower lip, she tilted her head side-to-side as she debated on what to do. 

There’s a slim chance that Arkham_Knight might be online, but he could just message me and I can check on it later. Hottie Toddie over here actually brought me brownies and helped me with a horrible customer. She took a deep breath and turned her attention fully to Jason.  “Sure, let’s go to the diner. But uhm, how are we going to get there? You came here on a motorcycle, right?” I'll log in tomorrow, we usually meet during the week anyway. 

“Yeah, we’d just ride my bike. Why?”

“I’ve never been on one. All I know is you sit on it like you do any bike.” She rubbed the back of her neck, her gaze falling to the ground once more.

“I promise I’m a skilled rider, you just need to climb on behind and hold on tight.”

“Hold on tight? To what?”

“To me.” He offered her his hand. Seconds ticked by like minutes as he watched her look between him and his hands. Though he was very cool and confident in what he was saying, he was a mess inside. She could easily reject him and this would be an embarrassing mess. The thought of her declining felt wrong. He wanted her to say yes, he was wishing for her to say yes. The waiting was making him nervous and he was grateful that his gloves hid the cold sweat on his palms. “So, what’ll it be?” There's no reason for me to get nervous. 

“Mmm, ok.” He swallowed the sigh of relief that threatened to come out as she placed her hand in his. He wrapped his fingers around and instantly noticed how much larger his hand was compared to hers. 

“I’ll keep it slow, I don’t wanna scare you on your first ride. You’ll be wearing the helmet, too. It’s not far, so you don’t need to worry about me.” He rambled a little as he led her to his prized vehicle. “You can keep your bag in one of the side bags here.” He popped one open for her and she quickly deposited her items in it. As soon as she was done, he slipped the helmet over her head. It was a bit loose, but he fastened it as tightly as he could under her chin.

When the world suddenly grew muffled, Y/N nearly panicked. Thankfully the weight of the safety accessory helped her realize she was not fainting from exhaustion.

“Woah, this is a lot heavier than I expected. Are you sure it’s safe for you to not wear one? We could just call a taxi or take the bus?” She offered, fiddling the way it fit on her head. It's this hour a fish feels in a fish bowl? I kinda feel like I'm swimming in it. “It’s moving around a lot.”

“I’ll be fine, just don't move your head too much. Now, just follow my lead. You’ll need to sit real close and hold on to me.” She watched as he effortlessly straddled the bike, her gaze dropping to his muscular thighs that became more prominent now that he was on it. 

Quit staring , she scolded herself and looked further down at her own two feet. It's a good thing I’m wearing pants. She nervously inched closer to the vehicle and hesitated before swinging a leg over. She teetered a little from the added weight to her head but managed to keep her balance and sat safely behind him. Her heart jumped into a bit of overdrive when she realized she was unable to touch the pavement when he straightened the bike. Reflexively she wrapped her arms around him and gripped as tight as she could without trying to hurt him. Though that fear was hard to believe now that she was reminded of just how solid he was. Now her heart was racing for an entirely different reason. She only hoped he was unable to feel or hear it.

Tag: @vbecker10 @wordsfromshona @harlequin-hangout @harpy-space @tild3ath @gone-batty-fics @princessbl0ss0m @dakotali  @antiquecultist

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 27, Unhinged - Pt. 5

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, kidnapping, Carthage.

Word Count: 525

Previously On...: Dimitri called and basically insisted you have to come dance for Hydra at the club. He's not giving you a choice.

A/N: SHE'S BACK, BESTIES!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

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The ride to the club was tense. Dimitiri’s usual kindness toward you was nowhere to be found, and you couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to change his demeanor so suddenly. You just had to hope that Bucky was on his way toward the club at this very second, though he hadn’t answered your text message by the time Dimitri’s timeline for your departure had run out. 

When you pulled up to The Wiggle Room, the driver pulled around to the back entrance in the building’s alley. This concerned you, because you knew there were no security cameras on the back door, and there’d be no evidence of you entering the premises. 

“Why are we going through the back?” you risked asking Dimitiri. But the man’s visage remained hard and silent. When the car stopped, he got out and moved around to open your door. As you exited, he grabbed your arm, holding it far tighter than was comfortable as he practically dragged you inside.

“Ow,” you moaned. “Dimitiri, you’re hurting me.” He dragged you to the door to Kozlov’s private lounge, throwing it open before tossing you inside. “Oh, Dimitri apologizes to the little dove,” he simpered, eyes hard. “Perhapz she will have to find zomeone to avenge’r from Dimitiri’s slight, no?” He laughed to himself, cold and mirthless, before slamming the door in your face. 

“Dimitri!” you called, “I don’t understand what’s going on! Open the door, please!” You pounded on it in vain as you listened to the sound of the lock engaging from the outside.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. His choice of words could not have been a coincidence. They were spoken too deliberately. Your cover had obviously been blown, but how?

“I think poor old Dimitiri’s cross that you’ve been lying to him about who you really are,” a disgustingly familiar voice cooed from behind you. You turned, not wanting to believe what you knew you would find, but there she was: Jade Carthage, sitting on one of Kozlov’s armchairs, sipping a flute of champagne like she owned the goddamned place. 

“Hello, Precious Pocket,” she purred, taking the time to uncross and re-cross her legs. “Did you miss me?” She gently put down her champagne flute. “Pink hair?” she tsked as she eyed you up and down. “Really? You couldn’t look more desperate if you tried.”

“I’ll just have to take your word for it,” you smirked, exuding more confidence that you actually felt in that moment. “You're the expert on looking desperate, after all. Wouldn’t you agree, Carthage?”

“You always did think you were clever,” Jade said, standing up and moving toward you. “But I always knew you were just an insecure, dumb bitch.”

You made a move to activate your distress bangle, but her super soldier reflexes were too quick. Before you could blink, she had you in a chokehold, the pressure she was putting on your carotid arteries having your vision tunneling in seconds. Before you passed out completely, you could make out her voice, as though coming from a great distance.

“Why don’t you have a little rest? You and I are going on a trip.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[minigirl87]

Damaged goods & no returns Chp.1

Steven Grant x Female reader

Summary:-

You're invited to an exclusive party that will change your life by your best friend. It turns out to be an auction for high society women to by sex slaves. While having a walk around, you find a shy and nervous man in the library. The man turns out to be Steven Grant. There are no mentions of Marc or Jake, but that they will appear in the future. I had this idea after reading a book about women's sexual fantasies as I just saw Steven in my mind.

I hope you enjoy it. Please feel free to like, comment, and reblog.

Warnings:- ⚠️🔞

Do not interact if under 18. Mentions of sex. Talk of sex slavery. I wanted to explore something darker as I've got over 100 followers. No sex in this chapter.

Word Count:- 1460

Everyone knows money runs the world, and money brings privileges. But old money is a different world entirely. it's a strange world of antiquum, eccentricity, and rules. Like a private members club where nothing is spoken about outside the members' walls.

Mrs Bradley is the epiphany of being an eccentric of New York society, an 84 year old woman who dresses and behaves like a 1960s southern belle with her favourite word if she liked you being “Darlin”. Very few times, it is an old and new mix, but between you and your friend Rebecca Mrs Bradleys, the great niece it has. Your Father had been a very successful with a transport company that had travelled all over the world now.

 You and Rebecca had a solid friendship of a few years, having met at a dinner party that your dad had held to celebrate a deal with Rebecca’s dad. You both clicked, and friendship blossomed from a dinner party conversation to crying on the phone at 2 am. About both your exes and everyone in between building love and trust leading to this moment.

Everyone knew about Mrs Bradleys eccentric parties that only women attended. Rumours were abound about what happened at these ladies parties, did she run a male brothel, or was it just a bunch of women getting drunk and loose without their partners. Women from ages  20 to 100 would be seen entering the Bradley mansion. So tonight you would see for yourself.

 Standing waiting, look out your lounge window for the car to collect you. Smoothing out your plum velvet cocktail dress, the scent of black opium filling the air as you do so. Your phone beeps with a message from Rebecca saying that they’d be their in 5 minutes. Putting your phone in your matching plum clutch you grab your silver grey faux fur coat and checking you have everything and head outside locking your front door and head to the car as the driver stands at the open door waiting for you to enter.

The car door clicks shut as your body melts into the buff leather of cars interior as the vehicle moves along the road. Rebecca sits smiling lips, matching her fuchsia silk evening dress

“Nervous about this evening” her voice brings you back to reality as you notice that you're fiddling with your fingers.

“A little bit, I’ve heard a lot about your Aunts parties. I don’t want to make a fool of myself” you reply softly. Rebecca giggles, taking your hand, giving it a little squeeze of assurance. “My aunt loves you, she thinks you’re the sweetest little thing and insisted you come tonight” you blush in response, you had only met Mrs Bradley a few times and you were surprised by the comments. Sitting back quietly, contemplating the evening ahead, it was as if Rebecca could read your mind.

“I must tell you about the party. It's a....well, it's a sex slave auction” she stares at you awaiting your reaction. You face drains, and your mouth hangs open a few seconds before recovering your composure “A what?” the anger and disgust evident in your voice. Rebecca stares, thinking on how to respond without this blowing up.

“Yes as I said, my aunt deals with male sex slave for women who can afford their own private little pet. She’s done it for years and is successful at it. The men are trained to do other things so no one gets suspicious” The nonchalant way Rebecca responds is horrid as though she’s talking about a piece of dirt, not a human.

 The car pulls to a halt in front of the mansion. The large oak and iron doors are illuminated by flaming torches and two men dressed in moss green and gold livery great the guests as they arrive. You and Rebecca leave the car and grace the steps to go inside. Your heart is thumping in your chest, and bile rises in your throat. A man in the same livery carries a sliver tray of champagne, lifting a sparkling crystal flute of the golden bubbles in a white gloved hand passing one to both you and Rebecca nodding as you said thank you.

 The entrance hall was extremely extravagant, and you now know you’ve entered a different world. As you look around, you see various men aged 20-40 dressed smartly and conversing with various female guests. You imagine they're doing this to get the best bids and get to the wealthiest woman there. Rebecca looks at you sipping her champagne

“Please understand this is how our world works. They are well looked after men” You only nod in response to her. Mrs Bradley comes over and embraces her great niece and you. Telling you to enjoy yourselves and hoping that someone catches your eye.

You smile in response before asking if you may go look around at the art. In a flamboyant manner, she agrees and walks, taking Rebecca to talk in private about something. You wander off along a oak panelled hall into the library your about to walk over to study the painting above the fireplace when you notice a nervous looking man slightly hunched over in the chair his chocolates curls bouncing as he fidgets with his fingers.

 “Hello” You speak softly so as not to scare him. He looks up at you with massive chocolate eyes his reply is barely audible as he sits curled into himself. “Is everything OK?” You slowly walk over to him. A fat tear runs down his cheek as he shakes his head as his curls swaying about.

Kneeling in front of him “Are you one of Mrs Bradleys slaves? All the man does is whimper in response. You want to cuddle him and protect him. He’s nothing like the other men who appear happy in this arrangement. You’re about to ask him his name when Mrs Bradley heels clacking along the floor into the room and angrily looking at the man.

“STEVEN” she says through gritted teeth “why are you in hear you should be out mingling try to find a forever home again” You raise your eyebrows at the word again as the man known as Steven grabs your arm. You finally hear him speak he has a London accent and sounds so soft.

“Yes mistress, I won’t be returned again”

“three times Steven you’ve been returned to me. I can’t keep you if you’re returned again” The venom in Mrs. Bradleys word makes Steven shake against you. You make a decision right there and then, and you’ll deal with everything later.

“Mrs Bradley. How much for Steven?”

Mrs Bradley looks taken aback “You want him out all the other handsome and more socially astute men you want him?” Steven shakes behind you his grip on your arm tightening. “yes. How much?” You felt disgusted talking like this, but you wanted to help Steven.

“Well he’s damaged goods, and I need rid of him. No returns, and he’s $20.000” Closing your eyes and shaking your head at Mrs Bradleys words. “Bank transfer, okay?” You reach into your clutch for your phone. Realising that you’re seriou, Mrs Bradley switches her southern charm back on.

“course Darlin” she walks over to the roll top desk in the library, sitting down her bangles jingling as she sorts paperwork and a tablet. You sign and transfer the money over to her, and she gives you a receipt. You look at the receipt and see it describes the painting that’s above the fireplace. You look shocked as she nods at Steven, and Steven shakily gets up and walks to the fireplace, lifting the painting off the wall and walking up to you.

You realise what Mrs Bradleys doing covering herself so that she can’t get into trouble. You look at her and force a smile.

“I think it’s best I leave now, Mrs Bradley. Have a good evening” You walk away with Steven behind you, clutching the painting or clutching his pain you can’t decide. Mrs Bradley nods with a smile, bidding good evening as she walks along the hall in front of both you and Steven as a car pulls up at the entrance to take you home. She says something about Stevens' belongings being brought to yours tomorrow. You only nod in response as you get in the car behind Steven.

 The chauffeur closes the door with a click before getting in and driving away from Bradley Manor. You look at Steven who’s sitting looking out the car window at the passing street lights. You feel nothing but pure love for Steven, and  you vow to help and protect him. Steven senses you, looking at him he turns to look at you with a gentle smile.

To be continued........

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Banners and deviders by @cafekitsune

[tilldeathdoesmedirty]

Another Day 3

Warnings: dub-con/non-con, age gap, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, emotional abuse, physical abuse, possibly other triggering events. 

Characters: dark!Steve Rogers x reader.

Summary: Careful what you wish for, one day it could come true. And that might just be your savior in disguise, all it takes is a little bit of persuasion. 

Interact on your own accord. You have been warned. 

Any reblog, comment, feedback is well received and appreciated! Enjoy <3

You jump in your seat with a loud gasp. How long did you doze off for? It’s dark, but you’re still in the car. The once occupied driver’s seat is now empty. Steve isn’t here.

What the hell? 

Your seatbelt is still on, you quickly unbuckle it and push on the car door. It’s locked. You try it a couple more times aggressively, hitting it in frustration when you finally decide to give up. Your thoughts are going a hundred miles away making up the worst case of scenarios. You raise your hand to your chest holding on to your thin coat as tight as possible, trying to calm down your heartbeat that feels like it’s going to burst any second now. 

You get closer to the window and look outside trying to make out your surroundings, you squint your eyes in hope that it makes your vision better even though you know it’s for naught. Your erratic breathing blows on the window making it fog up. You can’t help but shake uncontrollably, it’s so fucking cold. 

Click.

Your attention goes straight to the sound. Was that the car? You try the door again and to your luck, it opens. You immediately swing it but you don’t get out just yet. What if something happens to you, what if there’s someone… something and as soon as you get out, it’s over for you. You guess it’s either staying to freeze to death or you take your chances. Whatever the odds. 

You hesitantly get out of the car, being on high alert for any sound or movement. As you make contact with the ground your feet sink in the snow until they’re completely covered all the way up and above your ankles. Great. You look around and quickly realize you’re in a forest, everything is covered in heavy snow.

How the hell did you end up here? There’s no road leading to where you are. 

“Steve?” You yell out. No answer. You slowly walk backwards from where the car is, it must have made its way here from the main road, wherever that was. You look for any trail you can follow, barely dragging your feet in the snow.

“Didn’t expect you to wake up so soon, you seemed like a heavy sleeper.”

You quickly turn around as soon as you hear… Steve. You're confused, cold and tired. Why weren’t you home yet, why were you here, what was he-... 

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He looked almost apologetic. 

Sorry? You furrow your eyebrows, shaking your head not understanding what he was on about.  “I want to go home,” your voice quivers, nonetheless you try to keep your voice even “take me home, now.” You feel your eyes burn with tears, not entirely sure if it’s just from the cold or the fact that you’re starting to realize what danger looks like. You’re completely alone with a stranger, god knows where.

He’s walking towards you. You’re frozen with fear in your spot as you find your breathing to be more difficult with every step he takes. All you can do is watch. 

“We can either do this the easy way, or the hard way. Your choice.” 

You don’t understand. You don’t want to. 

“S-Steve, what are we doing here? Let’s just go back in the car,” he’s right in front of you. All you can focus on is the smell of his cologne as it surrounds you whole, in other circumstances you would have really liked it but now, it just makes your stomach turn upside down. 

“…Please.” You barely breathe out. 

He doesn’t say anything, face unreadable. You watch as his hand moves towards his pocket, he drops his gaze to it. Your body twitches.

Run.

You sprint out as fast as you can, all you can think of in the moment is to get away from him as far as possible. You don’t look back. 

“Hard way it is.” He says. 

[verstappen-cult]

WANT TO REQUEST SOMETHING?

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disclaimer: RPF is just fiction, what you read here has nothing to do with the real people; this is just characterisations, please don’t take anything too seriously.

✶ WRITING!

I WRITE. fem!reader. most kinks, dubcon, poly relationships, dom!switch!sub!reader and characters, knife play, blood play, choking, cheating & toxic relationships, pegging, breeding kink, spitting, voyeurism.

I DON’T WRITE. driver!reader, eating disorders, age play, self-harm, rape, incest, scat/piss.

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Wicked Games 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You’re not ready but you have to be. The taxi ride doesn’t give you much time to get yourself together. You tip the driver and thank them before you get out to face the music.

The red brick building lures you back to reality. You barely get a step into the apartment before your name rings out. Barrett appears at the end of the hall and you shut the door.

You sigh and hang up your keys and purse. You keep your phone in your hand and face him. 

“Hey, I called work. Let them know I’d be starting late.” He sways at the threshold to the front room. He’s nervous, maybe even guilty. You ignore that tickle in the back of your head. 

You’re silent as you veer into the kitchen. He follows and looms behind you. He teeters in the doorway as you put your phone on the counter. You focus on making another coffee. 

“Are you feeling okay? You look tired.” He’s pandering just like he always does after a fight. He won’t apologise, he’ll just act like a dog with its tail between its legs. 

“Yeah, I’m tired. Exhausted. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure to wash my mug out.” 

You open the cupboard and take out a cup. He sniffs. “Honey, please, I swear, it wasn’t about the mug. I’m stressed and I miss you--” 

“So, you call me lazy? You yell at me?” You slam down the lid of the machine. The surge of anger quickly swells and erases the night already washed away with the vodka. “I told you, if you ever yell at me--” 

“I know, I know. It won’t happen again. I was emotional. I was stupid. I don’t know why I started it all. Really. I think...” he shakes his head and drops his chin. He looks up at you shyly and gives a sad smile. “I miss you. I guess having you mad at me is better than you ignoring me so--” 

“I wasn’t ignoring you. I asked for five minutes to change and you wouldn’t get off my back.” 

“Yeah.” He rubs his cheek and mopes. He stares at you and you stare back. You wait. The air roils between you as he thinks. You see the frantic glimmer in his eyes. “Oh, uh... I’m sorry?” 

“Are you apologising or are you just saying what I want to hear?” You challenge. 

“No, I’m sorry,” he says more firmly. 

“For?”  

His brows furrow and his lips part. “For... uh... babe... you know... what I did.” 

The machine quits grinding and you throw your hands up. You turn around and pour yourself a cup. You inhale the scent and it eases the hangover thumping in your skull. 

“Just go to work.” 

“Babe--” 

“Take some coffee, I don’t care,” you swipe up your phone and shuffle toward the other door. “But go. We need space.” 

He doesn’t speak until you reach the doorway, “I’m trying.” 

You don’t respond. You go to the bedroom and shut the door. You need a shower and sleep. You want to wash off yesterday and forget it all.  

You can hear Barrett in the kitchen. Your phone vibrates and you check the screen. You expect a call-in but find a text instead. It’s from a strange number. The message makes your heart skip. 

‘Last night was amazing. Would love to see you again. Let me know when’s good for you.’ 

Your hand shakes and you gape at the text. You tap your thumb to expand the options and hit the center; ‘block’. Last night did not happen. You put your coffee on the nightstand and chew your lip. 

As soon as the message swooshes away, another flies in. It’s Wendy; ‘hey, you good? You left before I woke up.’ 

Your blood slows and your head pulses. You have to sit down. You grimace at your phone. She doesn’t remember either. She has no idea you didn’t go back to her place. Good. That means it can all stay forgotten. 

You press reply and steady the phone with both hands. ‘Sorry, had to get back. Barrett called. Thanks for the night out.’ 

You hit send. As soon as your fingertips touches the screen, your stomach flips. You throw your phone on the bed and race to the door. You swing it open and scurry into the bathroom.

You hurl into the toilet as your husband calls from the kitchen, “babe? Everything okay? Want to me to stay home and take care of you?” 

You groan and lean your head on your arm. You heave and swallow back another wave of nausea.

“Just go!” You snarl back. 

Maybe it’s what he did. Maybe it’s what you can’t remember you did but you need him gone. You just need a chance to get your head straight and figure it all out.  Not just what happened or didn’t happen, but what’s going to happen next.

You can’t keep doing this with Barrett. This is the last fight you’re having about a goddamn dish. 

[navybrat817]

Delivery driver Bucky is a feral lover, right?

Of course he does, nonnie!

Delivery Route

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: Over 600 Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving), possessive behavior, dirty talk, puns, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: A Moanday treat! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky arranges his route so that your place is his last stop. How else will he have extra time to deliver you his package?

And, yes, he does mean his package. Not the one you ordered.

You’ve learned not to wear underwear during his visits, unless you want him to tear them off. Which he sometimes does when he has you bent over the back of your couch and pockets them for his collection.

As much as he wants to fuck you some days, he’ll taste you first when he has time.

So when you hear him drop to his knees, you don’t even have a chance to ask what he’s doing before you feel the first flick of his tongue. It amazes you how deep it can get, along with his fingers, like he can’t get enough of what belongs to him.

He’ll eat you out until your legs shake and you can’t feel them anymore, the couch keeping you from collapsing on the ground.

“Taste so fucking sweet. Practically flowing out of you like honey. My tongue that good? You need my cock, baby?”

He won’t give it to you until your release is dripping down his chin and it does after the mess you make all over this face.

Your eyes prick with pleasurable tears when you feel the head of his cock against your fluttering hole and you swear you feel him in your soul once he finally pushes in.

When he grabs your hips and pulls you back to meet his rough thrusts, you can’t help but cry out from how good it feels when he splits you in half.

“My dirty girl. Bet you buy shit just so I show up,” he taunts affectionately as you clench around him. “I’m flattered you want my cock that badly.”

“Please,” you beg shamelessly, feeling him throb with the need to fill you up as badly as you needed him to finish inside you..

The animalistic growl he lets out when your release triggers his makes your eyes roll back in your head. “Letting me wreck your cunt. That’s my girl.”

You love how he fills you to the brim. Love how he ruins you.

And how he takes care to clean you up when you’re still coming down from your high, even when he takes a moment to smack your ass for good measure.

The sweet kiss he gives you when he helps you sit nearly brings tears to your eyes.

“Hey,” he smiles, framing your face as you blink a few times. “Not too rough?”

“Never,” you whisper, sipping the water he graciously hands you. There’s a bottle for him, too.

He runs a hand through his hair and you still see a bit of shine on his scruff from your earlier orgasm when he sheepishly smiles. “Maybe I can stop by again later?” He asks, his usual swagger nowhere to be found as his blue eyes fill with nervousness.

Your heart races as you pull him in for another kiss, glad that he wants to visit during his downtime. “Knock twice, okay?”

He smiles, his confidence back in full swing. “I always knock before I stick anything in your slot.”

He chuckles and dodges the pillow before you can hit him.

“You and your puns,” you smile as he fixes his uniform. You don’t know how the fabric doesn’t tear from his muscular frame.

“Perk of the job,” he winks. “Be good until I get back.”

“I’ll try my best,” You tease as he pushes his chestnut hair back.

“You better. Because I plan to give you an overnight delivery.”

You nail him with the pillow this time.

And can’t keep the smile off your face knowing he’ll spend the night with you.

Okay, lovelies! You may go about your business! I don't know where that came from, but maybe this man can deliver more for you lovelies. Love and thanks for reading! Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[gaslightgirlsummer]

hi! i don't mean to bother🥺 but could you please explain/recommend some resources for someone who's new to f1? i saw that post you reblogged about charles getting a new car soon, but i don't understand how this works? why can't he have a new car already. sorry and thank you! i'm sure just by following you i can learn a bit more about the sport😊

hi!

1. it’s no bother! honestly, I think the best way to learn about f1 is to watch past and current races! It’s easier than it seems to pick up some of the information on the go, and a lot of commentators (not sky uk/international!! don’t rely on crofty and martin for trustworthy information, they’re genuinely just talking out their ass a lot) have a lot of knowledge, both technical and theoretical, and include it in their commentaries, explaining things about the race, the teams and the track.

the official f1 website also has this cool series called the beginner’s guide, where they explain all basics necessary to get through a race weekend

2. Each team only has one car every season! They start working on it at the end of the season (around october) and they build it throughout the end of the season and the winter break. The car they create is the car they have to deal with for the entire season, and all they can do is bring upgrades to it and develop it in order to improve it, but they can’t build a completely new one from scratch. The development is also limited, because there is a recently introduced cost cap on the spendings of the teams (140 million) and it includes not only development money, but also salaries for most of the personnel and spare parts for when a driver crashes and needs parts of the car changed (many teams can’t even reach the cost cap!).

So, you get one car, and if you fuck it up you just have to pray development fixes it, and if it doesn’t you’re stuck with that terror for the rest of the year, and that’s what happened with ferrari and the current car, sf23. Thankfully there are only 2 races left this season and then we never have to see that monstrosity of a racing car again

Hope I helped, and feel free to ask anything that you need! I’ll happily answer to the best of my ability 🫶

[arizonapoppy]

I posted 3,759 times in 2022

That's 1,166 more posts than 2021!

149 posts created (4%)

3,610 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@dragonfly-wings1

@raksh-writes

@gellalaer

@kippurbird

@transformativeworks

I tagged 1,676 of my posts in 2022

#tolkien - 356 posts

#fic recs - 119 posts

#bts fanfic - 84 posts

#lotr - 84 posts

#signal boost - 77 posts

#mcu - 66 posts

#writer encouragement - 65 posts

#fandom is for fun - 43 posts

#star wars fanfic - 42 posts

#saving for future reference - 40 posts

Longest Tag: 116 characters

#i've actually pretty much stopped leaving comments or reblogging other works because i so rarely get feedback myself

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Solitude

A Mischief Managed ficlet

Pairing: Jimin x Reader, Jimin & Reader

Words: 1k

Rating: G

Genre: Angst, bestFriends!AU, nonIdol!AU

Summary: In a new town with a good job, you realize your loneliness without your best friend Jimin

Warnings: Not the usual fluff; off-screen!Jimin

Read it on AO3

Taglist: @cutechim​ @hannahbee12719​ @reliablemitten​ @seokjinger-ale​ @sunshinerainbowsbts​

24 notes - Posted March 25, 2022

#4

Ticket, Please

A Mischief Managed story

What? More Mischief? I’m popping in from my social media break to let my BTS followers know there’s another episode of Mischief Managed posted on Ao3, thanks to a thirst session with @hannahbee12719​​ & @seokjinger-ale​​ that turned into a prompt.

Pairing: Jimin & Reader

Words: 2.1k

Rating: G

Genre: Fluff, crack, humor, bestFriends!AU, nonIdol!AU

Summary: You and Jimin will do anything to watch the new X-Men movie

Warnings: Do not try this at home- breaking & entering, attempt to defraud

Read it on AO3

And while you’re here, would you be interested in some of my other BTS stories? With all that’s going on right now, we really need the comfort of fluff.

And if fluff isn’t your thing (but I still really encourage you to give it a try), you might be interested in this little tidbit of smut, which has somehow become the third most popular thing I’ve ever written. I knew we’re all horny bitches (affectionate), but it’s been jaw-dropping to see its stats versus everything else I’ve done in my life.  

25 notes - Posted March 15, 2022

#3

We did it!

200 Thryce stories on Ao3!

26 notes - Posted February 16, 2022

#2

Pancake My Eyes Off Of You

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Words: 1085

Summary: You and your friend Seokjin go out for your regular Saturday morning breakfast. A chance comment breaks your status quo.

Warnings: Bad puns

Also on Ao3

A/N: Thank you to @hannahbee12719​ for the prompt! Five squares down.

Send me a prompt with a pairing!

“Another successful morning garage-sailing!” Seokjin whistles as he unlocks the van carrying all your assembled purchases. 

“Don’t you mean junking?”

He assumes a hurt expression. “How can you call all this wonderful loot junk?”  

You sigh as you buckle your seatbelt. “I’m just glad when it’s done being clutter in my garage.”

Seokjin reaches across the emergency break to pat your hand. “Admit it, you enjoy the thrill of the find.”

He had a point. Your mutual side hustle, Worldwide Hand-Me-Downs, did provide an outlet for your love of nostalgia. You just hadn’t expected it to take over your Saturday mornings. “I’ll be happy once we have breakfast,” you grumble. “And more coffee.” 

Smiling, Seokjin points the van in the direction of the your favorite diner.   

You sigh as he takes the back roads to the diner. “Why do you always take the back roads? It’s faster to take the freeway.”

Shaking his head, he demurs. “But there are fewer traffic lights.”

You bite your tongue as you stare out the window at the passing scenery. Driver’s choice, you suppose. Even though you had driven both ways and timed them just to prove you were right. 

The end goal of all your Saturday garage-sailing expeditions is soon in sight (although you could have been there three minutes sooner if Seokjin had just gone your way), and with a blissful sigh, you slide into the booth opposite Seokjin. He carefully turns both the coffee cups up on their saucers. You don’t need to look at the menu, since you know what you want, but Seokjin studies his as if he hadn’t been coming here almost every Saturday for ages. You smile as his dark messy hair droops over his forehead as he turns the pages. His bangs are getting long. Should you remind him to get a haircut? 

“Good morning,” your server chirps, as she pours coffee in your cups. She drops off a little pot of half and half, too, which Seokjin wordlessly pushes toward you. “Do you know what you want, or should I come back?”

“I’ll have the veggie omelette, bacon, and a side of hash browns, crispy on top, please?”

The server nods. “You got it!”

Seokjin shakes his hair out of his face as he tries to decide. “Can I have the short stack, link sausage, and the fruit cup please?” he finally asks. 

She finishes writing your order. “I’ll get this put in.” 

After she leaves, you carefully pour the cream and sugar into your coffee, stirring to mix it into pale tan consistency.  

“Would you like a little coffee with your sugar?” Seokjin teases you.

You tap the spoon against the lip so as not to waste a single drop of blessed caffeine. “Not everyone can stand their coffee as black as your heart.”

He clutches his chest as if he’s been mortally wounded. Straightening his face, Seokjin changes the topic of conversation to the plot developments of the  latest popular streaming series. “Can you believe what the writers did? What were they thinking? Clearly it should have gone the other way.” 

Nodding your agreement, you gesticulate wildly with your spoon, because you would have improved on that chase scene, if only they had consulted you. Seokjin chimes in with supporting additional details of the proposed rewrites.  

By the time your food arrives, between the two of you, you have come up with a much better directors’ cut. You and Seokjin scurry to move the cups aside to make room for the food as your server unloads plate after plate. Glasses of orange juice and milk are followed by Seokjin’s pancakes. She sets the breakfast potatoes at Seokjin’s place.   

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28 notes - Posted February 10, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Hiya Poppy, for your romantic cliche bingo, could I request something for "The Dork and the Jock?" I'd love to see what you can do with this one! 💕

Take Me Out

Pairing: Hoseok x female!Reader

Genre: Fluff, opposites attract, first meeting

Summary: You'd rather be playing a game than teaching, but then an office group from Bangtan Industries attends your club's Learn To Curl night.

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: alcohol consumption, bad puns

Rating: T for alcohol consumption (to be safe, nothing else happens)

A/N: Thank you to Sunny for the prompt! I hope you like it! <3 Eight squares down.

Also on Ao3

“I said, I’ve finished counting out the shoe grippers.”

“Hmm? What?” Pulling your earbud out of your ear, you look up to find your friend Seokjin standing next to you. Clutching your chest, you chastise him: “You shouldn’t sneak up on me like that!”

Seokjin shakes his finger at you. “It wouldn’t have been a problem if you weren’t lost to the world listening to the latest curling podcast.”

You splutter. “How’d you know I was listening to curling podcasts?”

“I didn’t,” he smirks. “Lucky guess.”

Rolling your eyes, you go back to counting out the broom handles and checking their brightly colored brush pads. “How many are we expecting tonight?”

“Full house,” Seokjin replies as reaches into the bin closest to him and begins inspecting brooms.

Learn to Curl Nights are always hectic at the curling club. But it’s extra busy in Olympic years, when suddenly people who look ordinary are on the tv playing for Olympics medals. Shuffleboard on ice, how hard could it be?

You have a lot of bruised tailbones and sore shoulders to contradict them.

“Lucky us,” Seokjin quips. “We’ve got one of the corporate team building groups.”

Pursing your lips, you contemplate your teaching partner’s revelation. This could go one of two ways: scowling grumps upset at “mandatory fun” organized by an out-of-touch boss, or a really wild office with terrifyingly high morale.

Even if you get the challenging first group, you still enjoy teaching. They might be hard nuts to crack, but eventually the enthusiasm is contagious. The smiles when someone manages to get their stone most of the way down the ice make it all worthwhile. It’s also a good opportunity for the club to recruit; you, Seokjin, and the other volunteer teachers are the first line of scouts for new players.

The evening starts in the club’s general purpose room with a brief welcome and introduction from the club president, Namjoon, and then everyone troops downstairs to the ice. You help people find the right size shoe grippers and a broom. When each person is set, you make your way over to the furthest sheet where Seokjin and the office party are waiting.

Watching at a distance, they’re already pretty animated. “Wooo!” yells one woman in a bright red jacket, waving her arms over her head. She almost loses her balance, but recovers just in time. A man in a hockey jersey says something you can’t hear at that distance, and the entire group breaks up laughing.

Looks like you have the office with terrifyingly high morale.

All right, they want a wild time, you’ll give them the full experience. Kicking off with your back foot, you slide in and swish to a stop in front of them, broom carefully tucked under your arm, just to be extra.

“And here’s my esteemed Co-Teacher,” Seokjin crows. “The fun can begin!”

Cheerfully, you wave to the group and introduce yourself.

“We all work for Bangtan Industries,” explains their boss, as they take turns introducing themselves. Going down the line, they are an office crew from central casting, representing all walks of life, genders, and office roles.

The last person to speak is a man who has been quiet up until now. Taking his measure, does he even want to be here? Sometimes groups have a holdout determined not to have fun. He has a reserved yet confident air, wearing loose clothing and a knit hat with black bangs peeking out. But then he smiles and it’s like a spotlight shines. His dark eyes crinkle around his button nose. “My name’s Hoseok,” he says. “I’m really excited to learn to curl!”

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32 notes - Posted February 26, 2022

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