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sharlsworld · 9 months ago

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a digital love letter - ʟɴ4 ☆

✿ lando norris x influencer!reader

✿ a glimpse of all the post’s from when they were “just friends”, to there engagement announcement, to the announcement of there first child.

🝮

june 1st, 2020

lando.jpg

liked by pierregasly and 83,924 others

lando.jpg when i asked y/n if she wanted to quarantine with me i didn’t think it would be this long…

yn if you ask me to make one more batch of cloud bread i will lock you outside

⤷ lando.jpg well that’s awfully rude considering i offered you my home

⤷ yn you literally begged me to quarantine with you???

⤷ lando.jpg no need for the details

maxfewtrell couple goals

⤷ lando.jpg fuck off

hearts4lando “just friends” ok buddy 😭

beloved.hamilton just a COUPLE of friends!😄

charles_leclerc i think this quarantine has got your mind all mixed up cause…

lilac.leclerc there so oblivious 😭

f1wags i smell…a incoming wag 👀

🝮

august 10th, 2020

lando.jpg

liked by georgerussell63 and 984,118 others

lando.jpg took my girl to dinner and let her go shopping for her birthday…never again. she really knows how to spend money

carlossainz55 “my girl” ???

⤷ lando.jpg is she not my girl? she never leaves me alone

⤷ yn you give off this tough guy act like you don’t ask me to hangout every day

⤷ lando.jpg once again, no need for all the details jeez women

landolovesyn it’s the fact she literally makes so much money but he still wants to pay for her stuff really tugs on my heart strings 😪

sharls_lerklerk PAINFULLY OBLIVIOUS

pierregasly cmon mate

⤷ lando.jpg what?

landolovesyn Heather 🤩

🝮

january 1st, 2021

lando.jpg

liked by charles_leclerc and 1,746,023 others

lando.jpg happy new year bitches 🥳

yn been waitin for this one

⤷ georgerussell63 We all have

⤷ alex_albon seriously everyone

⤷ carlossainz55 Seriously

danielricciardo Took you guys long enough

⤷ yn 1 year is a reasonable amount of time

maxfewtrell NO PHOTO CREDIT?

⤷ lando.jpg no

lilymhe sooo when’s the wedding?

⤷ alex_albon watch they’ll probably get engaged this year

♥︎ by author

ynissocutiepatootie IT FINALLY HAPPENED

lovely_leclerc stop he took her to see the lights 😢

daddyricciardo i wonder how long they’ve been dating before deciding to go public

🝮

april 14th, 2021

lando.jpg

liked by yukitsunoda05211 and 824,722 others

lando.jpg i was feeling a little down today, but you DEFINITELY turned me on

yn can i help loosen your belt? it looks really tight 😉

⤷ lando.jpg you’ll never catch me saying no to that baby 😏

charles_leclerc Oh come on there’s children on this app lando

carlossainz55 I just opened the app mate

maxverstappen1 Well enough instagram for the day

georgerussell63 I could’ve lived the rest of my life without seeing this

⤷ lando.jpg don’t be hating

estiebestie lando is just a horny teenage boy honestly

♥︎ by yn

landowantsrizz i feel like i’m interrupting something…

hoeforsianzzz so there definitely getting down every night

♥︎ by author & yn

⤷ lilac.leclerc HELLO??? THESE BITCHES MUST BE GETTING DOWN LIKE BUNNIES

🝮

october 22nd, 2021

lando.jpg

liked by lewishamilton and 7,824,023 others

lando.jpg i couldn’t wait any longer

yn so impatient

⤷ lando.jpg i just couldn’t wait to call you my wife

⤷ yn good thing i said yes then

carlossainz55 Congratulations mate! 🎉🥂

♥︎ by author

lewishamilton Congrats man that’s amazing ♥️

♥︎ by author

maxverstappen1 Congrats bro ♥️

♥︎ by author

lilymhe the gold band 😨

⤷ yn ikr i was flabbergasted

♥︎ by author

charles_leclerc Congrats lando! ❤️

♥︎ by author

danielricciardo Let’s go boys 🥳

♥︎ by author

oscarpiastri Congratulations mate, i’m so happy for you 🧡

⤷ lando.jpg 🧡

maxfewtrell little lando norris finally grew some balls

⤷ lando.jpg i can never win 💔

mclaren To forever! 🧡

♥︎ by author

alex_albon i called it

♥︎ by author

landolovesyn the fact this has 7 million likes and he doesn’t have 7 million followers on this account 😭

lando.norizz THE GOLD BAND? LANDO NORRIS YOU’VE OUTDONE YOURSELF

sharls_lerklerk been here since the video of her accidentally dropping her hydroflask on his foot at one of the races in 2019😭

⤷ lando.jpg i still have the tiny scar on my little toe

🝮

january 1st, 2022

lando.jpg

liked by oscarpiastri and 792,614 others

lando.jpg happy new year bitches 👀

yn happy new year whore

⤷ carlossainz55 and to think you two are getting married soon…

charles_leclerc Oh thanks mate

⤷ lando.jpg i wasn’t talking to you

⤷ charles_leclerc Alrighty…

georgerussell63 This was such a elegant, mature post, until i saw the caption

⤷ lando.jpg you shouldn’t be surprised

landolovesyn literally all of his posts are about y/n

⤷ hearts4lando basically a fan page

estiebestie i’ll never get tired of seeing lando’s posts for y/n

carlando there relationship is so perfect

lilymhe don’t think just because you two are getting married that she’s yours

⤷ lando.jpg take the L 🤣

🝮

october 22nd, 2022

lando.jpg

liked by lewishamilton and 28,942,861 others

lando.jpg My greatest love, you are my one and only. From the day you dropped your hydroflask on my foot and laughed until you were crying I knew you were gonna be mine one day, I can’t think of anyone better to spend eternity with. In every universe, I will find you. When death takes my hand, I will hold you with the other, and promise to find you in every lifetime. I love you for everything you are, everything you have been, and everything you will be. You are my destiny, I love you endlessly. ♥️

yn ok…i’m literally sobbing right now i love you so much lando

⤷ lando.jpg i love you the most

danielricciardo Turned on auto caps for this one congrats man i’m so happy of you ♥️

♥︎ by author

lewishamilton I wish you two a lifetime of happiness and health ♥️

♥︎ by author

carlossainz55 To a lifetime of bullying each other! ♥️

♥︎ by author

charles_leclerc Little lando norris isn’t so little anymore? 😂 Congratulations man ♥️

♥︎ by author

mclaren Congratulations lando & y/n! 🧡

♥︎ by author & yn

landolovesyn y/n norris 🥹

lando.norizz crying in the club

lilymhe she was mine first.

⤷ lando.jpg not even

lilymhe congratulations, i guess ♥️

♥︎ by author

alex_albon Congratulations lando ♥️

♥︎ by author

georgerussell63 Can’t believe how far you’ve came mate! Congratulations ♥️

♥︎ by author

francisca.cgomes such a beautiful wedding…should’ve been me and y/n’s but still! ♥️

♥︎ by author

carmenmmundt Congratulations ♥️

♥︎ by author

🝮

february 29th, 2024

lando.jpg

liked by maxverstappen1 and 10,523,792 others

lando.jpg Mathéo Lee Norris. 2.10.23 ♥️

comments for this post have been limited

yn my boy 🤍 i love you lan

⤷ lando.jpg i love you the most baby

lilymhe cutest baby boy 💙

♥︎ by author & yn

charles_leclerc I bet he misses his favorite uncle already

⤷ carlossainz55 excuse me?

⤷ charles_leclerc your excused

⤷ maxfewtrell cmon guys, obviously i’m the favorite uncle

⤷ charles_leclerc no

alexandrasaintmleux cutie boy 💙

♥︎ by author & yn

carmenmmundt Mathéo is the cutest 🥰

♥︎ by author & yn

lewishamilton A gift from God ♥️

♥︎ by author & yn

alex_albon bro has more hair then me

♥︎ by author & yn

🝮

march 26th, 2024

lando.jpg

liked by carlossainz55 and 19,982,713 others

lando.jpg a digital love letter for you, the light of my life. my life long treasure of destiny. you are the greatest gift God has blessed me with. i love you endlessly ♥️

comments for this post have been limited

yn you sweet talker, i love you lan 🤍

⤷ lando.jpg i love you the most baby 🤍

landolovesyn guys…this might be heather

♥︎ by author

#lando norris #f1 smau #lando norris x reader #lando norris smau #lando norris fluff #f1 imagine #lando norris imagine

2K notes · View notes

spenceobsessed · 10 months ago

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post prison!spencer reid x fem!reader

genre: enemies to lovers, smut with a plot

summary: spencer can't help but despise his "replacement", especially during an undercover mission in a nightclub.

MDNI 18+

“this is insane.” penelope garcia mutters on the other end of the phone call. “there’s no way jeffery was able to absolutely take himself off the internet.” she huffs, the keyboard clicking in the background. “i’m gonna keep working. i’ll be back in a jiffy, i swear!” she says sweetly before hanging up.

the unsub, jeffery hogan had abducted then murdered four young women in los angeles california. the team had been in la for three days now, and jeffery had already killed two more women before they could stop him. all of them were getting antsy and a little angry.

you sigh, leaning back in your chair as the rest of the team begins talking amongst themselves, minus spencer, who had been staring at a map for twenty minutes.

“reid.” you say, catching his attention. he doesn’t look up, but you can tell that your voice startled him slightly.

“hmm?” he says, annoyance lacing his tone. you roll your eyes. he had been an absolute dick to you since day one. the whole team had described him as a saint, yet, you couldn’t see it. yes, he was attractive, but that didn’t distract from how hateful he was towards you. plus, you had been nothing but nice to him when you first met him, doing nothing to get on his bad side.

“did you make a connection between the locations?” you ask curtly. he huffs. “i don’t see you doing anything helpful.” he snaps, finally looking up from his map to glare at you.

“spence,” jj begins, joining the conversation unknowingly. “any connections?” he smiles and turns to face her, like you hadn’t just asked the same question.

“the one common location that overlaps with all the crime scenes and significant places in jeffery’s life is the ‘night owl’, a local night club.” reid says, smirking at you when he finishes his sentence like a teenager. you scoff.

emily gives them a look that says “act professional please”.

“we have no idea what he looks like, we only know bits and pieces of his life that garcia could dig up, how are we going to catch him?” matt asks, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed, a coffee in hand.

“i could go undercover,” you begin with a shrug. “most of the girls he abducted have been around my age and have my same features.” emily nods in agreement.

“one issue.” rossi says. “the unsub has always abducted women on dates.” you nod. that’s true.

“i could go with you.” matt says, standing up straight and taking a sip of his coffee. you open your mouth to thank him but emily cuts you off.

“no offense simmons, but what if we sent in reid instead? he closer matches y/n’s age and resembles the victims boyfriends more closely.”

spencer opens his mouth to protest but tara cuts him off with a smile. “great idea, you guys should leave in an hour or so, you better start getting ready.”

you watch as reid fights the urge to say something rude, but is quickly whisked away by emily.

jj helps you get ready in another conference room of the precinct, dressing you like the average clubber.

your outfit is a small, tight, red mini dress, with matching heels and accessories. you had to admit, you looked good. you found yourself wondering what they had put reid in and whether he would find you attractive in this tight dress.

“you look amazing.” a voice breaks you out of your trance as you’re putting in an ear piece. you smile, turning to face emily.

“thank you.” you say softly, using your hands to smooth out your dress. “i think i’m ready.” you add, slightly nervous. emily reassures you that you will do great and asks you to follow her outside.

that’s where you’re met with spencer reid. he looks unfortunately handsome, hot even, wearing the most casual “spencer outfit” you have ever seen: corduroy pants, converse, and a white button down. the white button down was sheer linen (very beachy) and allowed you to barely see his chest. you quickly remind yourself that he is in fact a dick, hoping that will somehow make him less attractive.

you watch as his eyes wander your body. emily seems to notice and clears her throat.

“you guys gotta get going.” she breathes out a smirk on her face.

reid walks over to the side of the car. you smile slightly as he opens the door, your smile fading as he slides in alone slamming the door behind him.

“petty bitch.” you mutter. your heels angrily clicking against the asphalt as you walk to the other side of the suv, ripping open the door and sliding in with your arms crossed. you slam the door behind yourself, eyes glaring into the side of reid’s face.

“look,” you begin, your tone angry. “if this is going to work you need to at least try to pretend not to be a fucking asshole.” he scoffs, turning to face you.

“watch your tone.” he says lowly, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. your arms are still crossed and you watch as spencer’s eyes go from your face to your tits, then back up again.

you remind yourself that indeed, he's just a man. he may be a genius but behind that, he’s simply just a man with needs. you were going to make tonight hell for him.

you smirk, eyes glaring into his. “do your fucking job and i just might comply, doctor.”

he turns his head away from you, staring out the window, a new type of tension in the air.

“can you guys hear me?” jj says through you ear pieces. “yeah.” reid says, you can hear how angry he is, just through one word.

the team gives you both a rundown and reminds you both of your parts.

“…remember you’re a couple!” garcia reminds you. the team agrees loudly on the line. “yeah,” alvez says. “pretend to like each other for one night.”

“we’ll try, alvez.” you reply as the suv pulls up in front of the busy nightclub.

you look over at reid. “open my damn door and look like you fucking mean it.” you say through gritted teeth. he doesn’t respond as he steps out of the car, shutting his door quietly and makes his way over to your side of the car. he opens your door with a fake smile on his face, putting out his hand for you to grab. you get out of the car, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

“grab my waist.” you demand. he huffs under his breath, reaching his large hand to rest on your waist. he leans in to whisper back. “you will not dictate this night. i have over ten more years of experience than you, on this team. you do not get to boss me around, y/l/n.” he says through gritted teeth, pulling away from your ear with a fake smile on his face. you don’t have time to respond as he says; “let’s go, baby.”

the nickname hits you like a brick, especially the way it comes out of his mouth so effortlessly. in an attempt to control your composure, you smile and lean against him as he rubs his hand lovingly across your waist.

you both enter the night club, the mix of bright lights and darkness temporarily blinds you as you grip onto spencer for support.

“don’t respond, but we see you’ve made it inside. go grab a drink from the bar then hit the dance floor.” emily orders. spencer nods, leading you towards the busy bar.

as you approach the bar, the bartender asks what you both want. “i’ll have a club soda with lime.” spencer says, turning his head to look down at you. “what do you want, baby?” he asks, rubbing circles on your waist softly. you smile back up at him pretending like you don’t want to kill him and subtly dig your ass into his crotch. he sucks in a breath.

“i’ll have a vodka soda.” you say with a sweet smile on your face. the bartender nods going to make the drinks.

you look back at spencer, his jaw clenched and his breathing heavy. you set your phone down on the bar and “accidentally” knock it off of the counter.

“oops!” you say dryly, bending down to pick it up, your ass now rubbing against his crotch. you subtly feel something twitch in his pants.

“y/n.” he warns you. you nod innocently. “hmm?” you hum. he moves his hand from your waist. you look back at him to silently scold him, but he quickly uses both hands to push you away from his crotch. he slides his hands down your waist, to your ass, then pulls down your dress in one quick motion. a man standing to his left begins complaining loudly about how he can no longer see your "fattie". you almost thank him, then remember that its fucking spencer you're dealing with.

he doesn’t say anything and simply hands you your drink, leading you away from the bar and the creepy men, to a nearby table.

you bite your lip to hold back hateful words that dare to spill out. you stand in silence, spencer sipping his drink while you chug yours.

"you look miserable." emily says in your ears. "do something." she adds.

"wanna dance, pretty boy?" you ask him, the nickname falling from your mouth accidentally. you pretend like it was on purpose as spencer looks up from his drink, slightly stuttering over his response.

"y-yeah, yeah." he repeats, regaining his composure. he grabs your hand and leads you towards the crowd of sweaty people dancing, only looking back once to make sure you were still there

spencer scans the crowd as he pulls you into his chest harshly.

"i'm not just some doll you can throw around, reid." you yell over the music, sick of his bullshit. he looks you in the eyes and shrugs.

as the song changes, couples around you begin to make out.

"kiss me, reid." you say, realizing the awkward dancing in a crowd of horny couples would defer the unsub's attention. spencer doesn't seem to hear you. "reid." you repeat, his eyes still scanning the room. "spencer." you say, the first time you've ever said his first name to him. this catches his attention. his gaze finally falls to you, his frame towering over yours as you wrap your arms around his neck.

"i need you to kiss me, spencer."

the usually dick-ish man makes no cocky response. instead, he simply tips his head down capturing your lips in a kiss. the kiss is awkward at first, but quickly turns heated as you press your body against his. his hands, which were loosely on your waist move downward, rubbing circles on your ass and somehow moving you closer to him.

you run your hands through his hair, feeling him moan softly into your mouth. his sweet noises immediately go straight to your now-wet-core. you break the kiss for a second, to catch your breath, your faces still inches apart.

spencer's pupils are blown, his hair is messy, and his lips slightly swollen, tinted red from your lipstick. fuck, you want to devour him.

spencer quickly resumes the kiss, this time you don't have to ask. you easily feel how hard he is already, with his cock pressed against your leg.

you groan softly as you push your tongue into his mouth, eliciting more sweet noises from the handsome man.

"nice job guys, we have a suspect at 3 o'clock." emily says into our ears, reminding us that we aren't alone.

“let’s go somewhere more secluded.” spencer whispers, his breath hot on your cheek. he wants to lure the unsub out. you nod, waiting for him to move. instead his hands are still on your ass, his eyes on you, like he’s taking a mental picture.

“pretty boy.” you say almost inaudibly. “let’s go.” he spins you around so you’re in front now, able to maneuver your way out of the crowd. one of his hands rests on the small of your back protectively as you head towards the back corner of the club, a stark contrast to the way he was treating you less than 10 minutes ago.

“the hypothetical unsub’s eyes are still on you guys but he hasn’t moved, we can’t seem to see his face on camera. you need to get him to move closer.” jj announces in your ears.

“she’s telling us to kiss again.” you whisper. he nods, placing his large hand on your cheek and swiping his thumb across your lips. you wrap your arms around his neck, leaning into kiss him. he picks you up slightly, just enough to allow you to sit on him as he takes a seat on a random couch.

as he moves from kissing your lips to your jaw and neck, you instinctively begin rocking your hips against his, feeling how hard he is under you.

he groans softly against your neck, his kisses becoming sloppier.

“y/n.” his tone desperate, the use of your first name alarming. “if you keep going i might not be able to maintain professionalism.”

you bite your lip excitedly. “do you want me to stop then, spencer?” his eyes stare into yours, his hands on your hips.

“no.” he breathes out, pulling you closer to him and kissing you again. he moves his hands upwards as his lips move downwards, slowly leaving kisses and rubbing your now-visible nipples through the thin fabric for your dress. you suck in a breath at the new sensation, your head thrown back in ecstasy.

“the unsub moved into the light, it’s jeffery. sending alvez and rossi in now to apprehend him. you guys can stand down, nice work.” emily says, startling them slightly. you pull away from spencer, your underwear undeniably wet and your cunt begging for attention. you awkwardly remove yourself from his lap, sitting next to him on the sofa, noticing that in fact he was hard, an outline of his dick highlighted in the odd club lighting. he squirms in his seat slightly, obviously trying to readjust.

“y/n,” he says, noticing your eyes on him. you hum in response, your eyes moving from his cock to his face. “bathroom.” he says simply.

he doesn’t give you an opportunity to respond, simply getting up and leaving the room. you wait for a few seconds, processing his words and attempting to wrap your head around the fact that an hour ago you hated this man and now you were dying for him to fuck you.

a few minutes pass and you make your way to the bathroom where you don’t even knock, you simply walk in. spencer is there waiting. immediately as you enter the bathroom, he locks it, then attached his lips to yours. you moan softly into the kiss, jumping up to wrap your legs around his waist. he, however, seems to as other plans as he sets you down on the sink and lowers himself between your legs.

he leaves soft kisses up your thighs, your legs now thrown over his shoulders. “spencer,” you beg, his lips dangerously close to your cunt. “please.”

he smiles as you beg, hooking his finger on your underwear and pulling them down your legs roughly. he lowers his head farther in between your legs, licking a slow stripe down your cunt, causing you to squeeze your legs around his head and moan.

hearing your reaction, spencer moans softly against your pussy, the vibrations making you gasp.

unfortunately the club music had been turned off and if anyone were to walk by, they would probably hear you making sounds. you cover your mouth with your hand to make sure you guys don’t get caught.

he moves his tongue farther into you, the sound of his mouth on your soaking wet cunt making lewd sounds that fill the small bathroom.

you moan into your hand, bucking your hips against his face.

he pulls his mouth away from you and without skipping a beat he inserts one of his large fingers into you, grinding his crotch against the edge of the sink to get himself off.

you open your mouth to tease him but he interrupts you by adding another finger into your pussy. you can’t help but moan loudly, feeling your walls clench around his fingers.

“so good for me.” he says breathlessly, his fingers’ pace rough inside you and his hips fast against the sink counter.

“spencer,” you say in between ragged breaths. “i’m so close!” he smiles at your words, removing his fingers from your pussy with a pop.

you groan softly, hating the feeling of emptiness.

“spencer.” you warn, sitting up to get a good look at him. he has a look in his eye, a smirk on his face.

“what’s up?” he says nonchalantly, licking you off his lips and his fingers. you ask yourself how he can be so calm when he was literally just finger fucking you and eating you out. his cock is still dangerously hard, a spot of pre-cum on his cute little pants. you catch yourself imagining how big he is.

“fine.” you huff, seeing how he didn’t seem like he wanted you to finish. you insert your own fingers into your swollen cunt, pumping them inside yourself like spencer had been only a minute ago.

you over exaggerate your moans watching as spencer begins to rub himself through his now tight pants.

“i’m not going to beg you, pretty boy, but i need your cock inside of me right now.” he smirks at your words, making his way back over to you, hands moving to your face, kissing you passionately.

“i’m pretty sure that was begging, y/n.” he says as he pulls away from the kiss, beginning to unbutton his pants.

however, loud knocks interrupt him. "spencer?? are you in there??" emily's familiar voice, fills the room.

"uh, yeah! i'll be out in a second!" he says, beginning to re-button his pants, his cock still visibly hard. emily says something inaudible from the other side of the door then walks away. you lean forward on the sink counter, resting your head on spencer's shoulder, his arms wrapping around you.

after a second of peace, you hop of the counter in an attempt to fix your appearance, sliding back on your awkwardly soaked underwear.

"can we please finish this later?" spencer speaks up, catching you off guard. you smile, your brain still processing the fact that an hour ago you wanted to kill this man.

"yes, please."

part 2 :)

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader smut #bau #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fandom #part one #smut #enemies to lovers #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spenceobsessed

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arminsumi · 2 months ago

Text

. . . 𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭

Geto Suguru

Regret has haunted Suguru ever since he parted ways with you; he's pining, lost, going mad. It kills him that he's made an enemy out of someone he loved.

► "I know that I ended it... but why didn't you stop me?"

+ Warnings/content: angst, pining, friends to enemies to lovers

Suguru's deepest regret is that he didn't kiss you before he parted ways. It eats him up more and more every day, like a parasite in his chest, chewing slowly on his muscles down to his bones.

Why didn't I kiss you?

He asks himself this so often — too often, god, he can't catch a break from his own mind, can't stop this regret from gnawing on his ribcage.

But isn't he his own obstacle? He chooses not to get over you. Yes, he actively chooses to not move on. Day after day, Suguru chooses to vividly remember the day he said goodbye to you — it's become his favorite film, he's memorized all the expressions, words, tones and romanticized it to no end.

We were perfectly tragic.

Late spring, flowers on the floor, black night, his tears, his shivering lashes, that quivering voice. Looking into his eyes, you saw that he wasn't prepared to let go.

He was holding onto you. Claws in your flesh.

Maybe that's why he chose to say farewell behind the 7-eleven; it was the place where you and him first met. The story was that both your Jujutsu schools had coincidentally assigned you two to exorcise the same curse; you were confused by Suguru's technique and wrongly went for him, like he was the bad guy — isn't it all so ironic now? You remember how he panted with a smile, like he got a kick out of fighting you, how he explained to you that it was a misunderstanding and that he was on your side. He remembers receiving a hateful look from you; it made his heart tick, leading him to wonder to himself what's wrong with me? I always love women who hate me.

Because of how you met, you and Suguru being 'enemies' was a running joke that carried on through your late teenage years.

Springs passed. Things changed — no, things got worse. Suguru was drowning and no one could see it, not even you, the girl who knew him like the back of her hand.

Suddenly, all those years spent living side by side each other in blissful, oblivious youth converged into a moment of goodbye.

There went by the scent of those falling flowers. Suguru's nerves were at full attention, sharp and prickly all over his skin. Goosebumps. He was jittery, even shaking — a look that you never thought he'd wear, being as cool as he always was.

You told him, "You don't have to be someone you're not just because of me." but he didn't want to hear that. No, he needed to hear something else. He needed to be told "Suguru, no matter what path you take, I'll always love you, deep down inside."

The night breeze chilled him. He stared down at you, eyes full of hurt like you've never seen in a man's eyes before.

Stark neon light from the vending machines painting your features, he didn't miss how your lips quivered. He leaned into you slowly, but then there was a sudden stutter in his movements. Something held him back.

Suguru chickened out from kissing you — that's what it seemed like to you, anyways.

But it was deeper than that. He never opened up about it. He just left. He just went.

. . . 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭,

and he's still haunted by memories of that night, heart rotting with regret. He can hardly sleep, can hardly eat, can hardly keep any food down — how could he stomach food when he can't even stomach his own choices?

Suguru visits the place where you and him first met.

He trudges through snow in winter, kicks leaves off his path in autumn — leans against the wall where the both of you once stood and just stares at the floor, allowing himself to hurt all over.

But no season makes him hurt quite like spring, when the scent of blooming flowers is so potent and strong that he chokes up.

What would you do if you saw him again?

He's thought so deeply about what he'd say to you that it's become a script; he knows the words by heart.

Why didn't you stop me?

Did you have feelings for me?

Do you hate me?

Please let me kiss you. Just once.

No, he's scratched the last one off his script.

He sighs to himself all the time — all the time. How did he make an enemy out of the one he loved?

A question that plagues his brooding mind is do you still love me even after what I did? He wonders if it's even possible. Sometimes he just settles on the assumption that you and Satoru hold a deep hatred against him.

. . . 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮,

your face appears around the corner; he can't mistake it.

Meeting you again after years have passed, though as enemies, makes him feel stilled, like all the chaos stops momentarily.

He doesn't know what to say, or how to act, so he just stays silent and motionless in front of you.

You speak and feelings start to rip him apart. "Suguru, where have you been?"

It's awkward. It's melancholic. The tension between you and Suguru is not just because of the gruesome truth of what violence he committed, nor the betrayal; no, it's more than all that.

He's utterly speechless, holding an unbreaking eye contact with you. Gazing into your eyes after so many years of staring into fuzzy photographs makes him feel giddy like a little kid, despite the severe expression you have.

You talk slowly and carefully to him, almost warily, and it breaks his heart little by little.

"I know we're not allies, but I'm still the same Suguru that you used to spend nights talking to." he quietly reminds you, hurt evident in his voice.

He gazes deeper into your eyes, deeper and deeper until he's dizzy. You hardly know how to respond.

"Suguru," you whisper back, tearing up, "Why did you do it?"

He doesn't respond, completely ignoring this.

"... I still think of you."

"... hey, answer me."

As he comes two steps closer, you back two steps away.

"... and I left so many things unsaid."

"... Suguru, I know, but — "

"... and I should have kissed you before I left." he blurted out.

Shocked, you take a moment to register what he just said.

"Why didn't you?"

"I just didn't want to taint you." he breaths, "I'm too fucked up and you're too sweet for me."

He brings his face closer to you, casting a shadow over your whole body, backing you into the wall. The setting sun peeks out from behind him, the breeze slows.

Suguru looks at you like an adoring, sad puppy. His face is full of all his regret and lust and longing and desperation. You've never seen this look in his eyes before — he's kept everything to himself ever since you met him.

Looking intently at your lips and wetting his own, he begs you softly, "Please, let me kiss you."

You shake your head very slowly, feeling so conflicted.

"Just once? Please, I need it so badly." he admits desperately, and then says your name in the softest tone you've ever heard a man speak in; your name, every letter so special to him, each syllable quivering in the air between your faces.

He's so close you can see every detail in his face; the harrowed eyebags, the sorrow in the wrinkles of his eyes, and flashes of memories in his pupils. Even more than all that, you can see the downturn of his parted mouth.

"I want to," you admit, swallowing sharply, "But I can't."

Lashes fluttering so sorrowfully, Suguru pulls back a little.

It's the same place, the same season, and the same pitiful situation.

There's a small silence in which you feel a madly desperate feeling emanating from Suguru, and then he crashes his lips onto yours so hard that you whimper.

Breathing hard, heart thumping up against his chest, Suguru holds you in place while he presses his wettened lips against you, tilting his head to the side to deepen the kiss.

You quickly surrender to him, and when you reciprocate his kiss — he whimpers. It's so subtle and quiet, but you feel it on your lips and tongue.

Kissing until you both run out of breath, Suguru finally pulls away — plucking little kisses from your lips as he does, like he just can't stop yet.

"I'm so sorry," he apologizes heavily, still keeping close to your face, not ready to let go. "I need you."

You look up into his eyes and he feels shivers going down his back.

"... I won't tell Satoru." you breathe.

His breath catches, and he doesn't hesitate to go in for the next kiss — and the next and the next and the next until you're letting him mark your neck with a harsh hickey.

Of course, you can't spend all day there, you realize after fifteen minutes of making out with your 'enemy'.

"I've got to report back." you tell him, "He's going to get suspicious if I'm out too long."

"Okay," Suguru pulls away, licking his lips and rubbing them together like he's just enjoyed a feast. "Can I see you again?"

"I don't know..." you mutter unsurely, "If Satoru finds out, he's going to — "

"So what?" Suguru feathers, "I don't care what he does, I don't care if I ruin your reputation — I need you in my arms tomorrow."

Your expression spoke volumes.

"Okay, I'll be here tomorrow night." you murmur.

Suguru's guilt hardly affects him as he goes home; your kisses meant everything to him. Your reciprocation and lamb-like weakness in his arms filled him with ecstasy.

He doesn't care that you were his 'enemy' — maybe the taboo makes it feel even better. It's wrong. It's not allowed. And he wants it so bad, he stands with eager anticipation behind the 7-eleven every night, waiting for you.

This place where you two first met, now five years later, has become a spot where you and him make out like teenagers.

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: 𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢'𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

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ynsbarbbb · 7 months ago

Text

down bad | d. ricciardo

hypothesis - daniel is not ready nor is he willing to leave this thing behind.

pairing - daniel ricciardo x fem!baker!reader

[fic is inspired by “down bad” by taylor swift]

“fuck it if i can’t have us, i might just not get up, i might stay down bad”

“y/n,” your name slipped past his lips in a devastated sigh, eyes big as he stared at you. brown orbs drowning in a pool of tears.

a big, red suitcase sat on your bed, clothes haphazardly thrown around and you, sitting there on the foot end of the bed, messy hair surrounding your face and one of your favourite tops scrunched up in your hands.

daniel’s feet is glued to the hardwood floor by the door, his mind swimming, “wh—what are you doing?”

he looks around the room, your belongings, their familiar spots now empty. a sob escapes your mouth and you crumble from the edge of the bed down to the floor, ankles crossing and knees bucking up.

“i can’t do this anymore, daniel.”

his feet moves him to crouch in front of you, “baby, what are you talking about?”

you look up at him, “this,” you gesture around you with your hand, “the spotlight, the constant hate, the amount of time you leave.”

“let’s talk about it, yeah?” daniel asked, his voice hoarse. he’s swallowing at the lump in his throat, as he moves to sit down.

chuckling, you throw the top to the side, “what’s there to talk about? i’m a baker, i bake cakes, in a small town. and you,” you sniff and wipe your nose with the back side of your hand, “you travel the world, you race, everyone knows about you.”

he nods, “baby, i still don’t see the problem here.”

“i’m out of your league, i’m so far out of your league. i don’t fit into this lifestyle, i can’t flaunt money anywhere i go.”

daniel takes hold of your hands, “where’s all of this coming from, honey?”

you look up at him, and reach your arm back on the bed where you have thrown your phone after spending hours reading what his fans had written about you.

his fans, the people that would run to the end of this world to support him, that go to his every race to shout his name as he passes the finish line, the people he confided in the most when he started dating you.

“i can talk to them, disable our comments on our posts, hell, baby, i’ll even delete all social media,” daniel says, his eyes not leaving the phone. his eyes reading every comment twice and his heart swelling and breaking.

switching off the phone, you stand up and grap the top you had thrown to the side, “don’t bother, it’ll either way just get worse.”

daniel shoots to his feet, grabbing the things you had haphazardly throw into the suitcase and putting it on the bed.

he’s not going to loose you. he won’t.

“y/n, please don’t do this, it’s almost winter break, we can go somewhere private, just us. we can work this out, we will get past this,” daniel is practically begging, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he keeps on swallowing on the lump.

your shoulders sag, “daniel, stop,” you place the jeans in your suitcase and walk up to him to take his hands in yours, “find someone else, someone who fits into this life, who will walk it with you every step of the way. there are so many women out there who’ll be better and much more supportive than i am, and someone who can handle a bunch of teenage girls’ comments.”

daniel shakes his head wildly and grips your hands tighter, “no, no, fuck all else if i cannot do this with you. i don’t need someone else, God, i only want you. i am my best when i am with you, y/n, forget those fucking comments. remember what i said in the beginning of this relationship?” daniel’s hands moved up to cup your face, wiping at the wetness under your eyes, nodding his head,

“it’s us, baby, it’s us against all else,” his voice breaks as he said it. he bites his lips, the tears he was forcing away finally slips down his cheeks.

“i will fight, y/n, i will fight for us. i will fight for you. i will fight anyone who is against us, because, baby, i will not survive this night if you walk out those doors,” he moves to tuck those little hairs around your face behind your ears.

you nod your head as best as you can with daniel’s large calloused palms holding it. falling into him, resting your head on his chest and securely wrapping your arms around him, you believe him.

because, against all odds, you weren’t ready to leave, to leave everything you’ve accomplished together.

you weren’t ready to loose daniel. to loose his jokes, his comfort that comes with his presence, his laugh that made everyone in the room giggle, his hands that easily engulfed yours, his shoulder when you needed someone to lean on. you weren’t ready to loose that.

his chest heaved with a sigh of relief as he rested his chin on the crown of your head and wrapping his arms around your shoulders tightly.

“it’s us against it all, yeah?”

with your face smushed into his chest, a mumbled agreement sealed with a kiss to your forehead is all both you and daniel needed to know that none of you were going anywhere anytime soon.

fin.

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jamespotterismydaddy · 1 year ago

Text

Lord Husband (Chapter 1)

Cregan x reader

A/N: this is just gonna be a miniseries methinks

word count: 1,171

Next chapter

Series Masterlist

“You look like an angel, my love.” Rhaenyra says as the handmaidens pin back your hair but you don’t feel like an angel; you feel like a pawn.

You have been meeting with suitors for nearly four moons and none have seemed to be good enough for you. Lannisters are too proud, Tullys bore you, and you can’t stand a single person with the name Baratheon. Your mother said that she was showing you a great kindness in allowing you to choose, a kindness that she didn’t appreciate enough when the young queen had the chance. You don’t care. You know you are just like she was when she was younger. You often wear that with pride but you know what it means in this scenario. You’re ‘too stubborn to appreciate what has been given to you’. Rhaenyra gave you the opportunity but she was no longer patient. A husband had to be chosen.

“Winterfell is very far.” Is all you say in response.

“Lord Stark is a good man. I would not have chosen him for you if I wasn’t sure of it.” She presses a kiss to the side of your head. “Just walk through the gardens with him. Get to know the man who will be your husband.” She pets your hair in a loving manner. You can’t seem to understand that she would only have the best for you, her only daughter.

You have yet to meet Cregan Stark but you already hate him, your betrothed, the man who will whisk you away from your family to the cold North. You resent the freedoms he is taking from you. You resent being separated from your family. You resent everything about him.

“He will treat you well, sweet girl. I know it.” You stand up now, wrapped in a silk gown and decorated with jewellery like a lovely little present for him. When you get to the gardens, he is already waiting for you with a blinding smile on his face. You have to admit that he is incredibly handsome. He is tall and his physique looks strong from years of training with the sword. A real Northern man.

“Princess, it is my pleasure to meet you. Our engagement brings great honour to my house.” He walks over to stand in front of you and you let him take your hand up for a kiss, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Lord Stark.” Your voice is cold which seems to surprise him ever so slightly. You don’t give him a chance to say much else as you begin to walk through the gardens, leaving him in your dust. He looks at you in a bit of a stupor before quickly following after his pretty betrothed.

“Would you like to take my arm, princess?” He politely offers his right arm to you. How proper.

“No.” You say simply as he speeds up a bit to stay in step with you.

“No?” He looks a little confused but chalks it up to teenage girls being a little strange. You give him no other response so he makes another attempt at conversation. “Have you ever visited Winterfell?”

“No.” He awaits to hear a sentiment of your excitement to see it soon but is disappointed when none comes.

“I am sure you will love it. It’s beautiful when there's a fresh dusting of snow on the ground. I’d say it’s the greatest place in all of Westeros but I suppose i’m biased.” He grins, mostly to himself, and then looks at you, hopeful for more of a response.

“Hmm.” Is all you offer as a reply. Cregan finds himself dejected at his future wife’s lack of interest and he tries his best to shake it off.

“It does get cold of course but you’ll be more than warm enough in the castle. Most actually find it very cozy.” He gives you another smile that likely has most women melting in a puddle at his feet. For some reason it just irritates you more.

“Dragons don’t do well in the cold.” Your curt reply makes him cringe. He can’t understand what has given you such a sense of distaste towards him. Things are silent for a moment. He has no idea how to respond directly to your comment.

“Do you have any hobbies?” Another attempt it seems. The question makes you sigh. What a boring change of subject.

“We don’t really need to speak.” You shock him with your words, with your bratty attitude. He’d expected you to be entitled but he didn’t expect you to be outright rude. He is a lord after all, the Warden of the North. He deserves some sense of courtesy from you.

“That is going to be difficult seeing as how we are to be wed.” He scoffs and you begin to fiddle with the rings that decorate your fingers.

“The only thing you need from me in this marriage is to fill my belly with your heirs.” You say. You know it’s harsh but it isn’t necessarily untrue. He seems to be taken aback slightly by your words.

“You don’t wish to get to know the man you’re going to marry?” He asks in disbelief. He seems like a romantic. You didn’t think people of nobility were allowed to be romantics. Though, simply knowing your husband better is a sad definition of romanticism.

“You ask many questions.” You roll your eyes and he does his best to hold his tongue and not say something stupid.

“And you answer practically none, princess.” There was a bit of bite in his words. He clearly believes that you’re acting like a spoilt child.

Awkward silence fills the space between you both. You wonder if he may apologise to you and he earns a bit more of your respect because he doesn’t. It’s quiet for quite some time and you try to walk faster so that you may get to the end of the gardens before he tries to make conversation again. He never does and it isn’t long before the promenade comes to an untimely finish.

“Good day to you, my lord.” Poor Lord Stark looks like he’s rethinking all of his life choices when you say the words to him. What an ill fate for the man, marrying a cold Targaryen princess.

“To you as well, princess.” You don’t lift your hand up for him to kiss again and based on the fact that he looks like a kicked puppy, you know that he wanted to.

You leave quickly. You did your duty… technically. Your mother asked you to walk through the gardens with him and you did. Mayhaps you simply forgot about the getting to know him part. You wonder if he will retract his proposal, but who would ever retract a proposal to a princess? Maybe you’re delaying the inevitable, maybe you’re just full of old fashioned Targaryen spite but you have no wish to create a relationship with the man you’re meant to marry.

taglist(comment to be added): @valeskafics @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies

#lord husband #cregan stark #cregan x reader #cregan x you #cregan stark x reader #cregan fic #hotd #hotd x reader #hotd fic

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zegrasdrysdale · 7 months ago

Note

Could you possibly write something with Jack where the reader is having an insecure moment because she read some comments on her recent post and Jack comforts her and reassures that she’s the only girl for him and how beautiful he is, and maybe he makes a little insta post about her

[ don’t know what for ] j. hughes

paring : Jack Hughes x fem!reader

summary : after reading some of the comments on her most recent insta post, Jack’s girl gets a little insecure. he reminds her just how beautiful she is

warning(s) : insecure!reader, allusions to a past eating disorder

author’s note : if y’all understand the title then we are automatically best friends (bc 1d 🫶🏼)

༺═──────────────═༻

She frowns as her comments are once again flooded with comments how she looks. It's always a comment about the color of her hair or that it looks like she needs to "eat a burger". As if she didn't stop eating completely when she was a teenager because she was getting comments about how she looked overweight when she was healthy.

Sometimes there's even a dig at the fact that she has blue eyes.

She knows there's a stereotype around hockey players dating or marrying women that have blonde hair and blue eyes, but she can't control the color of either. Sure, it's the type of some players but Jack told her over and over again at the beginning of their relationship that he liked her for her personality.

That doesn't mean that little voice in her head tells her that he's with her because of her hair and eyes. She's aware he has a type, and that type does match the stereotype.

Instead of getting up and going out like she had planned, she doesn't move from her bed. She cancels all plans that she had with her friends and cancels dinner with Jack that night to hide from the public.

The last thing that she needs is more pictures of her to be taken that night and more comments to roll in about the way she looks.

from: hughesy ♡ - 10:03 am wdym you don't feel good ? can i bring you soup ? i can give you back rubs if you don't want soup (ik i'm not a great cook). snacks ? soda ? ice cream ?

to: hughesy ♡ - 10:05 am i'm not hungry. i just wanted to let you know about dinner

from: hughesy ♡ - 10:19 am i'm outside your apartment. open up

Despite saying that she doesn't feel good and doesn't want to see anyone, Jack is on the other side of the door when she opens it in her hoodie with the hood up to hide her hair. He holds up flowers, a plastic bag that's probably full of candy, and a can of soup with a big smile.

"Baby, you look like you've been crying," he states when she opens the door. "Are you sure it's more than you not feeling well?"

She moves to the side so Jack can walk into her apartment. "If I tell you, you'll think it's stupid," she mumbles as she closes the door behind him and follows him further into the apartment.

Jack puts the goodies on the kitchen island and turns to his girlfriend with a frown. "Hey, you can tell me and I promise I won't think it's stupid," he assures her. "What's really going on?"

Her bottom lip wobbles as she says, "I hate being blonde and I hate having blue eyes. I feel like you're only with me because of it. I feel like if I dyed my hair brown and got brown contacts then you'd leave me. I feel too skinny and I feel too fat at the same time. I don't want to go out today and probably get my picture taken every two seconds because I don't feel pretty. I don't want to be seen eating because I'll get told I need to stop again. I don't want to be seen not eating because then I'll be told I need to put on weight. It's confusing and I hate the way I look right now."

A weight comes off her shoulders when she confesses how she really feels to Jack. The tears begin though and sobs wrack her entire body.

His frown just deepens at her confession. Jack crosses the room in three long strides to envelope her in a hug. He cradles her head like he always does when she's upset. She buries her face into his healthy shoulder and wraps her arms around his torso.

"You're so allowed to have days like this," Jack tells her. "But you need to stay out of your comment section, my love. They don't know you like I do and only see you for your hair and eyes. They don't know the you that I fell in love with. I love you no matter what and that will never change. You could dye your hair magenta and I'd still love you and think you were beautiful."

She shakes her head and looks up at him. "You don't mean that," she says.

Jack pushes the hood off her head and runs his fingers through her locks. "I mean that with my entire heart, baby," he assures her. "I think you're beautiful on your most insecure days. I think you light up the room when you walk in when you think you'd dim it. I love you when you doubt it. You're it for me. Blonde hair or not. Blue eyes or not."

"I don't believe you," she whispers.

It hurts her heart to say it but it's true at the moment. She doesn't believe Jack when he says that she's it for him. She's heard those words before and they turned out not to me true.

He runs his thumbs over her cheekbones to dry her tears and replies, "You don't have to. Not right now. Just know that I find you incredibly beautiful for the both of us." He pulls her back into a hug. "I'd love you if you shaved your head tomorrow too and that's a fact."

She bites back a smile and shakes her head. "I'm not going to go bald or something, Jack," she tells him.

"Just saying that I'd love you no matter what," he assures her. She pulls her head back to look up at him. "Hairless or not. I'd even take you to get colored contacts if that's what you really wanted."

"I know," she sighs as she buries her face back into his good shoulder. "It just sucks that no matter what I do, I still have moments like this."

Jack presses kisses to the top of her head and she wraps her arms around his torso. "You're allowed, baby," he tells her. "Just don't shut me out when you have moments like these because I have so many compliments I could give you any time you need me to. We can eat in tonight, have a movie night too. We'll order since we both know that I can't cook."

She laughs and shakes her head. "Stay out of my kitchen, Hughes," she says. "I don't need you burning down my apartment."

He smiles at her. "I'm not planning on it," he laughs. "Your apartment is safe from me. What do you want to do today?"

"Cuddle and watch movies," she replies. "That's it. That's all I want to do today."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Jack says. He cups her jaw and presses a quick, soft kiss to her lips. "My pretty girl."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

jackhughes

liked by yourusername, lhughes_06, and 128,782 others

jackhughes you’re turning heads when you walk through the door 🫶🏼🤍

view all 3,892 comments

lhughes_06 a one direction reference ? didn’t know you were a fan

jackhughes i’ve been converted into a 1d fan

fan1 she’s so pretty

fan2 oh my goshhh jack can you fight ?

yourusername my love 🫶🏼

jackhughes my pretty girl 🤍

yourusername i love youuu

jackhughes love you so much more

_quinnhughes gross

fan3 someone’s jealous

nicohischier okay jack

dawson1417 what a good bf you are

fan4 aw

hater1 ofc he’s dating a blonde

jackhughes her hair color is not the reason she’s my girlfriend. she’d look beautiful bald too

yourusername JACK ????

༺═──────────────═༻

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#hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey oneshot #hockey fluff #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl oneshot #nhl fluff #jack hughes #jack hughes fanfiction #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fluff #zegrasdrysdale request

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mulletmitsuya · 1 year ago

Text

Toman Groupchat

Warnings: swearing, the topic of sex is brought up a lot, mentions of the r word (i don't actually say it i just say "r word"), gayness, mentions of depression, mentions of suicide, teenage boys. also snuck in a lot of personal headcanons so that might not be your thing

Desc: Mikey lost his V-card

Mikey: just had the sex

Mikey: it's not all that, tbh

Mikey: i didn't like it

Mikey: i was quite indifferent to the situation actually

Mitsuya: that's great 👍

Smiley: you're the last one to lose your v-card and you come back with a report like this?😒

Smiley: we want details

Draken: whose we?

Mitsuya: no we don't

Chifuyu: it must have been difficult tackling the whole issue with you being 5'3 and all

Mikey: you're an inch taller than me😐

Chifuyu: "taller" being the key word

Baji: what didn't you like about the sex?

Baji: i think sex is great

Kazutora: i think it's super nice until you get in over your head and freak out about your performance so you end up having a panic attack and she just leaves

Smiley: LMAOOOOOO

Draken: that's actually kinda sad, you good?

Kazutora: no? i'll never emotionally recover. never again

Baji: maybe it should be with someone you trust and have been friends with for a number of years. maybe even your best friend who would do anything for you. that's just my opinion tho

Draken: just tell him ffs. anything but this

Kazutora: i have no girl friends?? the only women i know who're affiliated with this friendgroup are hina (taken), emma (mikey's sister and also taken), and yuzuha (gay)

Baji: why does it have to be a girl

Mikey: bro

Hakkai: 💀

Smiley: mention homosexuality once and here Hakkai comes

Hakkai: 😐

Kazutora: Baji i know you're gay and i support your lgbtq+ lifestyle but i'm not into dicks like you are man

Baji: what about assholes

Mitsuya: what's the point of this, like just ask him out atp

Mikey: you'd let KAZUTORA top???? insane

Kazutora: what's wrong with me topping? also who am i topping??

Smiley: well you're a twink so you're obviously a bottom

Chifuyu: Kazutora are you actually just gonna ignore what everyone else is saying

Kazutora: aren't you guys talking to Baji?

Draken: are you stupid or what

Kazutora: i'm really confused rn can we just to back to talking about Mikey

Mikey: yes actually. i've decided that i don't like sex and won't be doing it again

Chifuyu: bad day for Takemitchy

Takemitchy: what?

Chifuyu: well since you ride his dick so much

Takemitchy: HUH

Takemitchy: i've never done that with Mikey-kun tho??? i'm with Hina? also I'm straight so I don't understand what you mean by that 😥

Chifuyu: i don't actually mean-

Chifuyu: nvm

Baji: are we allowed to call people the r word anymore

Angry: no it's a slur

Baji: you're probably mad because people said it to you huh? lmao

Angry: yes

Baji: oh

Smiley: i didn't even mean it Angry it was just that one time

Angry: several, one times. but okay

Angry: i still love you

Smiley: can you not say that in front of our friends like idk what to do rn cause i can't say it back so it looks embarssing for you

Angry: 😕

Smiley: ...

Angry: ☹️

Smiley: i love you too

Angry: thank you

Chifuyu: very rare Smiley human decency moment

Draken: you guys are such weird siblings but that was great to watch. character development in a matter of seconds

Smiley: you should all kill yourselves

Mikey: man i really want to

Mikey: that was a literal joke before you guys get weird

Draken: you've actively tried to kill yourself tho

Mikey: yeah but like i won't do it anymore

Baji: we must just, believe you?

Mikey: i know that's hard to do because i lie all the time but yes

Draken: not a convincing argument but nice try

Mitsuya: terrible try actually. Mikey should we be worried?

Mikey: miss me with that gay shit, i'm fine

Mitsuya: i hate you guys so much

Draken: not me tho cause i'm your og

Mitsuya: 😐

Mitsuya: yeah i guess

Draken: 🤞

Draken: i'm gonna go out with my girlfriend now

Draken: also Mikey you're probably asexual. or you haven't found the right one to do it with yet idk

Mikey: what's asexual

Draken: google it

Mikey: Ken-chin c'mon i'm having a crisis rn

Draken: basically low or very little sexual attraction to others

Draken: there's a whole spectrum to it tho so you should probably do some research because that was an extremely watered down explanation

Draken: i'm ace too if that helps

Baji: Emma's a whole ass slut so how does she deal with that

Smiley: imagine bagging Ryuguji Ken with his sexy ass and he doesn't wanna smash. tragic

Draken: first of all, Baji i'll fucking kill you, never say that about Emma again

Draken: and fuck you Smiley

Angry: are you traumatized because of living in a sex orientated/obsessed environment so you eventually began to detest any affiliation with the act?

Draken: yes actually

Angry: i see

Mikey: i just don't like it. i'm not traumatized like Ken-chin :(

Draken: it's whatever

Baji: calm down i didn't call Emma a slut as an insult i just mean it as a describing word because she likes fucking

Baji: i've known her longer than you and she's been fucking since she knew what the thing was

Mikey: i probably should have addressed that as an older brother or something

Mikey: yk, cause i take care of my family

Baji: now she takes care of you with your chronically depressed ass

Mikey: 😒

Kazutora: is Emma also traumatized? like the opposite of Draken?

Mikey: wait should i ask?? her mom did abandon her and she did grow up without a father figure so like maybe i should talk to her

Smiley: you didn't have to dish out her problems like that 💀

Baji: she's got the Sano slut genes because wasn't Shinichiro falling in love with different people everyday? then your dad was impregnating people all the time. skipped Mikey tho

Draken: not everything is trauma related. also Emma just likes sex. it's not a huge deal breaker and if it was she would tell me and we'd talk about it

Mikey: what about having kids?

Draken: stop asking me this shit we'll do that when we're ready

Smiley: it's crazy how Draken is one of the healthiest people here. always reacting sensibly to situations and dealing with his trauma normally. he's such a good guy. hate him

Draken: love you too

Mikey: did he deal with it all that healthily if he beats people to a pulp most of the time

Draken: i stopped doing that

Baji: why though, you were an actual unit

Baji: wasted talent. i still beat people up

Draken: Emma said to

Mikey: fair

Smiley: Mitsuya could be on Draken's level too but something went wrong along the way cause he's a boy liker

Mitsuya: 🖕

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pagannatural · 9 months ago

Text

2.07 The Usual Suspects

-Sam being interrogated about Dean is so so good because we get to see Sam being told that his brother is a scumbag criminal and the way he reacts by rolling his eyes like he’s heard this before. It’s almost like seeing a teenage version of Sam. The detective keeps telling him to throw Dean under the bus and the whole time he’s just giving attitude and plotting how to help Dean and work the case. He keeps looking out the window. Some of his reactions are raw and some are fake and some are both and his mind is running through his options assessing what to do and how to get out of this.

When confronted with the cliff notes on his and Dean’s life, Sam runs the gamut of emotion from sad and grief-stricken about Jessica to defending Dean and acting all scandalized to being a smartass, to whatever the hell this is when she says “it’s not your fault he’s your brother, we can’t pick our family”

The double meaning here. The not meeting her eyes, the tension on his face, the disdain. It’s giving Bitch don’t I fucking know it, yet I would choose him a thousand times and every time I would be a little bit miserable. “It’s not your fault he’s your brother, we can’t pick our [soul mates]” is probably what God tells him in his most comforting dreams.

-So the detective’s theory is what? That after a shared sordid serial killer childhood Sam escaped the life and then Dean murdered Sam’s girlfriend in a house fire to lure him back in and make him his crime wife?

Because I mean yeah I would read that AU. That fits their vibe pretty nicely.

-She says “Dean’s a bad guy….his life is over, yours doesn’t have to be” and Sam looks at her like that’s the dumbest thing he has ever heard.

She doesn’t know that they become sickly and depressed when they’re apart like a pair of bonded sewer kittens.

When she tells him he can get on with his life and Dean’s as good as gone you can almost see him tuning her out and calculating how to lie about this.

-Sam starts on his cover story, using his trademark Sweet-Innocent face. He relies on his charms and on appearing helpless to manipulate people into doing what he wants. He would’ve learned to do this when he was a child as a survival skill, and I can just imagine how well this complemented Dean’s tough but earnest seduction thing. Acting sweet and helpless when you’re actually savvy and resourceful is a trope commonly used in female characters. These traits (innocence, sweetness, feigned helplessness) are associated with women gaining/utilizing agency in the ways available to them.

Because narratively, Sam is the girl. It’s stuff like this, plus the way he’s depicted as Dean’s tempting damsel in distress in other episodes. It increases the sexual tension between Sam and Dean when they rely on these archetypes because we know what it means when two leads are masculine and feminine, when they need each other and the plot hinges on their conflict. It means they’re the love interests.

-Dean makes a joke about Sam being Scully, and Sam’s like I’m not Scully you’re Scully, and Dean says “No I’m Mulder. You’re a red headed woman.” Really spelling it out.

Dean is smirking and making prolonged eye contact and just— he’s flirting. There’s a Bruce Springsteen song titled “Red Headed Woman” about how “it takes a red headed woman to get a dirty job done.” I have no idea if this is what Dean’s referencing or if it’s just a Scully reference but it’s a very specific thing to say and Sam is brunette. The song is very suggestive.

-Dean HATES waiting around while Sam works. Within seconds he becomes insufferable and has to leave to go do something, flirting with Sam again on his way out.

-“Sam’s story matches Dean’s to the last detail” they didn’t even SEE each other before talking to police! They’re just so connected that they tell the same exact story. Then they both work on the case in their separate interrogation rooms using different methods and arrive at the same conclusion at the same time. They also make the same joke about their public defender.

-I keep seeing this post about who knew Dean better, Sam or Castiel, and I just want to point out that these two are so in sync they can essentially read each others minds.

-We have an outsider perspective on their lives and relationship a few times this episode, and the detectives comment more than once on how weirdly connected the brothers are. Like, Dean communicates to Sam via movie reference to escape and Sam is already all over that, he’s been assessing how to climb out the window since his first scene.

-Dean tells the detective to go to Sam so that Sam can save her life, giving her their info on “how we find each other when we’re separated.” That’s very practical. It’s also true that when they aren’t together they are obsessed with finding each other and making sure they know exactly where the other is at all times. They must have felt so untethered when Sam was at Stanford. I’m imagining Sam going on a little trip over spring break and feeling like he’s forgetting something really important and starting to panic only to realize it’s just that Dean won’t know where he is.

#samdean #supernatural #spn meta #sam and dean #wincest #spn 2x07

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lamentofabramo · 8 months ago

Note

Can I get an NSFW alphabet for Tobias Rogers (ticci toby) 🫶

I've been doing a bigger piece, so I might as well do something smaller like this since it's been a good while since I've posted now. (oops)

I'm basing this less on the fandom vers of him, hopefully.

Didn't proofread this much. (edit: I feel bad that I didn't acknowledge the heart, so <3 of course you can doll)

MINORS DNI

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Toby obviously is one of the more caring of the creepypasta's, of course that's a low bar, but he is considerably more human than some of them. He's still gruff and fairly untalkative after the deed, yet he'd offer some water before leaving if you were just a one-off/ casual fuck.

If you were his partner however, I'd imagine he'd be more caring, still untalkative and unaffectionate, but maybe he'd hold you or hold your hand in this. Of course, he'd blame this on being unable to properly feel what he's holding, but the slow decrease in his twitches as he holds you speaks a lot more than he ever will. He's not comfortable, but he feels slightly less stress in your presence, at least until he has to leave, his mind penetrated by the voice of the foreboding presence of the ever-taller man.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) His own favourite body part would probably be his arms, he was a scrawny kid for most of his life, but you sure would start gaining muscle if you swung your axe at people who you considered worthy of it. There's probably also some scars across his arms that remind him of his life before. Of course, he'd hate that idea, but he still has some attachment to his sister, his mother, no matter how hard he may try to push it out of his head.

For his favourite part of his partners, I feel like it'd most likely be your waist. It's something for him to grab, to hold onto to remember you're real, that you're still alive against his better judgement.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) If you asked for it in a specific place, sure he'd do it if he was in a good mood. On your chest, ass, inside even. He'd risk it, he had nothing to truly lose anyway. But his favourite place would most likely be on your stomach, just the wet streaks across your stomach would do things for him. He's not sure why either, he wouldn't register that he does that almost every time unless you pointed it out to him.

If you did, he'd probably consider why for a second, his eyes widening in realization before shrugging. "Any better ideas?" he'd mumble, absently listening as he stroked himself. Toby would listen if you told him anywhere else, but… his eyes focused on that smooth surface.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) He secretly wants to push the boundaries of his condition. He wants your hands around his neck, trying to choke him until it hurt. It was strange really, he had a high pain tolerance, yet he craved this pain. Maybe it was because he wanted to be normal, maybe not. He didn't want to think too hard on it, like many other things he just shrugged at the idea and continued with his life.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?) Toby was definitely not an experienced guy, even before the accident where he finally became 'free' (If you could say being slenderman's lackey was free) the most he'd done was hold hands with a girl in primary school.

He wouldn't be insecure with it however, he never viewed himself as a sexual being, the most he'd ever fucked was his fist on particularly rough nights. Sure, he'd had crushes on women, but when you become a serial killer you go one of two ways. A sex maniac or a complete recluse. Unfortunately, Toby became the latter.

However, since he had a less than regular childhood, he was never able to go through the same sexual awakenings as many of his peers. Instead, that most likely came later, so when he met you he was awkward, like a teenage boy. Most of his language is through grumbles and grunts anyway.

When he realized you were stuck in his head it all changed though, his sex drive increased massively. His poor hand.

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying) Cowgirl probably rocks his world, he loves that intense eye contact that comes with it. The way he looks up at you through his fringe, his mouth slightly open as he pants and grunts, is a reward in itself. However, he would get impatient, his hips thrusting up to meet yours or his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you down further on his cock.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) If something was funny to him, then he'd smirk, like if you hid your body from him even though he was about to be deep inside of you.

When he gets further into the activity, he'd let out breathless laughs, sometimes blaming that on his tics. He couldn't help it, though, he loved the way you responded to him.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Toby probably doesn't care much about how groomed he is, sometimes he'll shave, but other than that he's got whatever going on.

He has a small happy-trail up to his belly button though, it shows when he raises his axe too high. It's a dark brown colour, just like his hair.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect) He's probably not particularly intimate, maybe some words here or there if he feels like it, but don't overestimate him too much. He probably came inside you before he kissed you.

His cheeks pinken slightly whenever you suggest kissing, but he quickly slouches and looks away with an almost childish pout to pretend as though he doesn't care.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Like I said in the earlier one, sure he jacked off every now and again, but it was more so a way to pass the time, to get some serotonin in his ever-pleasant life. But when he gets fixated on something, or rather in your case, someone, his sex drive spikes. He wants you in his hands, in his vice, it frustrates him, so he takes this frustration out on himself.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) He's probably degrading, mixed with praise. He's basically up for anything. He's killed someone, I'm sure a weird kink won't kill him.

However, if he does think your kinks are unusual he will take the piss out of you for it, teasing, but he still takes part in it. Its fun.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do) Wherever you want, he's not arsed, really. Against a tree sounds the most fun.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) As cheesy as this sounds, you. Maybe some aggression on your side would get him going too, that mouth of yours was lethal sometimes.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs) Like I said before, he's practically up for anything. He might not be physically aggressive for you too much, though, it'd remind him of his past.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) He's a munch, if he's in the mood enough, he could probably cum from giving you head. He'd deny that though, God that'd be embarrassing.

Not only that, but he'd receive too, no doubt, Toby would find it fun to just gently tug your head up and down on his cock.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.) Toby would probably be slow but deep if he's teasing you. But if he's just fucking you, then it'd be fast, his hands pulling you down on his cock with faster speed.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) Hell yeah brother. Just give him the words, he might tease you for it, but he'd never say no (unless he's in a more depressive mood).

He'd love to fuck you in the back of his car too, or masky's car. Just for the hell of it.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.) He's a risky guy, but surprisingly, he wouldn't do anything that could get him potentially caught by the law. He's on the run for a reason, he's not willing to risk his freedom for a good fuck (sometimes).

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?) He'd probably like to overstimulate slightly, 2/3 rounds before he's clocked out and completely dry. He'd last an average enough time, 20 minutes normally.

T = Toys (do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?) Seeing your body twitch with something that isn't him would make him jealous. However, a little vibrator never hurt anyone. He'd tease you if you had any dildos or anything, though, asking pettily if he "wasn't enough" or that you were "stretching yourself out" for him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Big tease, but he always fulfils your wants. It may take a while, though.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) The only noise he really makes is grunting and whispers on how dirty you are. He's loud enough that you can hear him, but not loud enough for it to be a full-blown moan.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) He does want to see how you'd look crying for him all bloodied up, most likely someone else's blood, but he's not picky. Maybe fucking you on top of a recently deceased.

But he'd never admit that.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) An average to slightly bigger man, About 6.4 inches. Probably measured it one time when he was bored, and he hung onto the .4 for his ego.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) Not too high unless you exist, then…as much as he can get his hands on you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) He doesn't sleep much after it, doesn't feel comfortable sleeping in front of others, even someone like you. His nightmares don't help.

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #ticci toby #tobias erin rogers #tobias rogers #smut alphabet #x reader #ticci toby x reader #toby rogers

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kirain · 2 months ago

Note

What's your take on the whole Max and Chloe break up in Double Exposure?

Also are you going to play it? I enjoyed your analysis of True Colors and Before the Storm.

Thank you! And oh boy...

My friends and I have actually been talking about this for the past few days, and maybe it's just my specific friend group, but ... we're fine with it? 😅

None of us sacrificed Arcadia Bay for Chloe. I'd say half of my friends hate her and half of them love her, but even my friends who love/relate to her couldn't justify it to themselves. One girl from our group, who dyed her hair blue after playing the game and absolutely worshipped Chloe, still chose Arcadia Bay. So from that standpoint, none of us are really hurting from Deck Nine's decision.

As for the people who are hurting, I'm sorry. Truly. I'm sorry you're disappointed. I understand how it feels and it sucks, especially when you chose Chloe despite the consequences. That was your decision and you had the right to make it. You had the right to enjoy it. Narratively, though ... it does makes sense. At least in my eyes. The only aspect that doesn't is Chloe ending up with Victoria, which I've heard happens? But I've searched high and low and that doesn't seem to be confirmed anywhere. There's a message where Victoria and Chloe go to a concert together, but that doesn't mean they're a couple, so I think this is just a stretch from angry players.

Other than that, I don't find Deck Nine's thought process all that outrageous. Their reason for breaking up is something I considered when it came time to choose between Chloe and the town. Chloe openly asks you to sacrifice her, saying that her mom and everyone else in Arcadia Bay deserves better—and I agree. Joyce, David, Warren, Kate, Alyssa, Stella, Dana, Daniel, Ms. Grant, Samuel the custodian, they all deserve to live. Even the characters we don't like, like Taylor and Victoria, at least deserve a chance. They're teenagers.

If you sacrifice Arcadia Bay, the animation when Max and Chloe drive through the demolished town clearly shows an air of regret on Max's face. She refused Chloe's first and only selfless demand and let thousands die for her; animals, men, women, and children. I personally find it difficult to believe that their relationship could work after that. Even the comics explore this concept, with Max leaving Chloe for a while because she can't handle the guilt.

The first Life is Strange is essentially a game about a girl who can't stop running from the past and a girl who can't let go of it. Given what Max and Chloe go through together, and considering how different they are as individuals, it's perfectly reasonable to assume that, as they grow and mature into adults, they wouldn't be able to salvage a slowly breaking relationship. Chloe would forever see the girl that killed thousands—including her own mother—for her, while Max would see a constant reminder of all the people she killed. It's a very realistic outcome for Pricefield, if we're being honest. And according to the letters, Chloe wanted to move on, but Max couldn't, while Max felt like Chloe was being a hypocrite. It's raw and complex and entirely believable.

Not to mention the first game never promises that Max and Chloe become a couple. You can sacrifice Arcadia Bay without romancing Chloe. There's two variants, couples or besties. So how on earth was Deck Nine going to cater to everyone, especially when there's a timeline where Chloe is dead? It would be impossible without making two drastically different games. Their only option was to remove Chloe from the plot entirely (alienating her fans) or miraculously revive her, in which case she would become the main focus of the story instead of Sifa, and it would negate the majority of people's decision from the first game. Nearly 60% of players sacrificed Chloe across the board, so I can understand why Deck Nine gave that outcome precedence. But it was a lose/lose situation from the start, so perhaps the best argument one can make is that they shouldn't have made a new game at all.

NOTE: I just found out that in the comics, Victoria and Chloe actually become good friends and Victoria matures a ton, so I dunno. Maybe the two of them getting together makes sense after all. 🤷‍♀️ That said, the comics aren't canon to the games and, in my opinion (based on what I've researched), they seem like a fanfic written to try and justify the sacrifice of thousands of innocent people, so I'm pretty indifferent to them.

Of course, there is another detail I've rarely seen people broach when discussing this drama: we don't really know anything yet. Above all, I think we need to remember that the game isn't finished. We've only seen two episodes. We have no idea where the narrative is going. For all we know, Max and Chloe might get back together by the end. Or even more likely, this is an alternate timeline Max. Much like the comics, this is just one of infinite possibilities. I think people need to calm down and hold their criticisms until we see the final product.

#life is strange #double exposure #lis double exposure #lis de #chloe price #max caulfield #deck nine #pricefield #life is strange double exposure #I'll probably play it

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weemssapphic · 1 year ago

Text

You Make Me Feel

Larissa Weems x f!reader

Summary: At 49 years old, Larissa Weems is the principal of Nevermore Academy - a successful career woman whose dominating energy demands respect from everyone she comes into contact with. She is also a virgin. What happens when she finally meets someone who wants to have sex (and so much more) with her?

Words: ~6.6 | ao3 link in title

Content/warnings: virgin!Larissa, internalized homophobia, hurt/comfort, nsfw (sickeningly sweet smut) - cunnilingus, vaginal fingering

A/N: after reading Hot Chocolate on ao3, I couldn't get the idea of virgin Larissa out of my brain so... here we are lmao

Larissa didn’t really know how it happened - the years had simply passed her by in a blur. She was a studious teenager, scoffing at her horny, unfocused peers. It’s not that she never had the opportunity, per se - there were boys who asked her out, who tried to ‘seduce’ her in that awkward, teenage boy way. They all disgusted her - she would wait until college, she reasoned, where she could find someone more mature.

So she left Nevermore behind for her studies. Here, the men - if they could be called such - were just as crude, just as unappealing. The thought of being touched by any one of them filled her with disgust.

It wasn’t until her senior year of college, when she found herself smitten with one of her female professors, that she entertained the thought of being anything other than straight. It was a thought that had only crossed her mind once before, when she’d accidentally caught her roommate at Nevermore, Morticia Frump, getting undressed. She’d felt oddly… aroused at seeing the girl’s bare skin - and immediately pushed down those feelings. Larissa Weems was enough of a freak as it was - she didn’t need the label ‘lesbian’ stamped on her as well.

But at the age of 22, Larissa had to admit that it was strange she’d never wanted a boy to touch her. She’d gotten close once, during a heavy drunken make-out session with some boy at a freshman party - before freaking out completely and leaving the poor boy squirming uncomfortably at the edge of the lake. And so, at the age of 22, Larissa finally had to confront her very un-platonic feelings for women.

By the age of 49, she’d gone through all the stages of grief regarding her sexuality: she’d vehemently denied entertaining the very thought of being anything other than straight. She’d been angry, oh so angry - at herself, at the world, at Morticia, at the boy she’d kissed. She’d gone through all the what-ifs: what if she’d made a move on Morticia, what if she hadn’t been so uptight, what if her family had been more accepting. She’d even fallen into a bout of depression, realizing how sad and pitiful she was for being a lonely virgin who hated herself for something she couldn’t change.

She’d finally settled on acceptance. Larissa had accepted that she was a lesbian. But, through all those years, she’d been too busy hating herself and throwing herself into her work to entertain thoughts of actually dating. So now she was 49. And a virgin. And who would want to be with a 49 year old virgin?

Sometimes, Larissa could ignore those thoughts, push them down. Sex and dating aren’t everything, she’d reason. She didn’t need anyone else. She had a successful career that kept her busy enough, after all - it was her dream as a teenager, wasn’t it?

Some days, though - days like today - it was harder to drown out the lonely, self-pitying thoughts. Days where she had a one-on-one meeting with you, for example.

As one of the teachers at Nevermore, Larissa found you particularly alluring - everything about you seemed to draw her in, leave her wanting more. You carried yourself with such confidence, you challenged Larissa in ways that both delighted and aroused her. You were kind and chatty, interested in what Larissa had to say - she felt she could talk to you for hours.

And you looked so delicious. In her weakest moments, Larissa imagined how it would feel to have a woman’s hands on her body - and more often than not, it was your hands she pictured, your face that surfaced in her mind as she pleasured herself. She yearned to feel your lips on her own, your body pressed against hers. How delightful it would feel to finally, finally be touched, to finally feel desired.

Today was no different - when you knocked on her office door for the start of your quarterly review, Larissa had to take a moment to compose herself before calling out “come in.” Her breath hitched in her chest as you strode up to her desk, grinning widely and taking a seat across from her.

The review of your performance took no time at all - you were honestly one of her best teachers, well-liked by the staff and the students (even Wednesday Addams had yet to cause an issue in your class). With twenty minutes left of your scheduled meeting time, the two of you began to chat about various, non-school-related subjects. Larissa found herself relaxing more and more, and before she realized what she was doing, she found herself asking if you’d like to join her in her quarters at the end of the day for a glass of wine and a chat.

“Of course, Larissa.” You beamed, sounding eager - was it Larissa’s imagination, or had a faint blush crept up your cheeks?

After agreeing to come by at 7, you took your leave to prepare for your afternoon classes - Larissa walked you to the door, which she leant against as soon as it shut behind you. Oh God, what had possessed her? An entire evening in your presence would be torture for her…

The worst part, somehow, was the fact that she knew you liked women - you’d brought up an ex-girlfriend once, Larissa had been taking a sip of coffee at the time and had nearly begun to choke. It was entirely plausible that you could… Larissa quickly shook the thought from her head. Even if you returned her affections, surely you’d hightail it out of there the second you found out how little experience Larissa had.

~~~

The afternoon passed quickly and soon Larissa found herself nervously pacing the length of her office, smoothing her sweaty palms over her dress to remove non-existent wrinkles.

Your knock sounded for the second time that day, and Larissa jumped at the sound. With a deep breath, she slipped into the persona she’d begun to adopt when dealing with the Mayor and other important figures - authoritative, even slightly seductive. It was the only way she wouldn’t crack under her nerves.

“Hello, darling,” Larissa husked as she opened the door and stepped aside to allow you to enter.

“Hey!” You’d changed out of your clothes from earlier into a low-cut blouse and a short skirt. A pair of simple black heels added two inches to your height, a fact that Larissa couldn’t help but find incredibly alluring. In your hand you held a bottle of Chianti, which you offered to Larissa. “Didn’t wanna come empty-handed,” you added with a nervous giggle.

“Oh…” Larissa’s heart fluttered at the kind gesture. “You didn’t have to.” She accepted the bottle with a grateful smile, hoping her blush wasn’t too obvious.

“I know, I wanted to.” You grinned at her, finally stepping into the office and closing the door behind you. Larissa reached past you to click the lock - and immediately paled as you smirked at her.

“My, my, Principal Weems, trying to trap me here and get me drunk?” you teased. Larissa’s panic must have been evident on her face because you burst into laughter and placed a reassuring hand on her arm - her skin burned at the contact as if it had been branded.

“I-I just don’t want students bursting into my office after hours, I…” Larissa trailed off lamely, unable to focus when your hand was still on her arm. It was so warm, so soft… she found herself imagining that hand on other parts of her body, trailing along her skin…

“Relax, Larissa, it’s okay,” you said, your face softening. “Either way it’s fine by me.”

Either way? Larissa nodded, swallowing thickly and trying to regain her composure. You’d always been very friendly, borderline flirty even, but something about being alone with Larissa outside of school hours seemed to relax you even further.

Larissa took a deep breath. A bit of teasing she could do - she was no stranger to a healthy bit of flirting to get what she wanted. Granted, her heartbeat was a bit more erratic this time, as she was actually attracted to the person across from her. Regardless - a bit of flirting couldn’t hurt. It didn’t have to be more than that.

“Would you like to take this to my quarters?” Larissa purred, plastering a seductive smile on her face and nodding in the direction of a door at the back of her office.

“I would love that.”

Minutes later, you were settled on the couch in Larissa’s living room and she was pouring two generous glasses of wine. She kicked off her heels and made herself comfortable beside you - you followed suit, taking the liberty to scoot just a bit closer. Larissa noticed, quirking an eyebrow - you laughed in response.

“Sorry, too forward?” You were still smiling as you made to shimmy back a bit - Larissa found herself placing a hand on your thigh, stilling your movements.

“You may stay,” she replied airily, grateful you couldn’t pick up on the way her heart was thundering loudly against her ribcage, seconds away from bursting. You placed your hand atop Larissa’s and she took a sip of her wine to mask the blush that was spreading across her face. Out of the corner of her eye, Larissa could see you mirror her movements, bringing your glass up to your mouth and taking a sip, watching her intently over the rim of the glass.

“Didn’t your parents tell you that it’s rude to stare?” Larissa murmured playfully, watching your cheeks go pink.

“No. They didn’t, actually,” you teased, before turning slightly more serious. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just… you’re really beautiful. Just want you to know that.”

Larissa felt butterflies erupt in her stomach and she turned to face you fully - you looked so cute, staring into your wine glass, cheeks pink… It had been so long since Larissa had been called beautiful - she was so careful not to put herself into situations where rejection could be the possible outcome. “Thank you.” You looked up and Larissa smiled.

“Larissa?”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t know why you invited me here tonight. I was hoping… Well, I have to confess something, I want to be open with you.”

Larissa could feel her heartbeat in her throat, and she nodded slowly, suddenly becoming aware that her hand was still on your thigh.

“I’m interested in you, Larissa. Now maybe I’m interpreting this all wrong, and if so I’m very sorry - I promise I won’t let it affect our professional relationship. But maybe the feeling is mutual…?”

She could hardly believe her ears. Of course the feeling was mutual. Larissa felt warm and tingly all over, her heart pounding and her head reeling. All she’d ever wanted was suddenly in her grasp - it was now or never…

Larissa’s eyes flicked down to your lips. Something in her expression must have given her away, for you leaned in and pressed your lips to hers - Larissa was helpless to stop you. It was just as she imagined - better, even. Your lips were soft and warm against hers, gentle - a stark contrast to the boy she’d made out with in college.

You quickly deepened the kiss, licking at Larissa’s lips which she parted almost out of instinct, allowing you to explore her mouth. You tasted of red wine and the lipstick you were wearing - Larissa couldn’t help but let out a soft noise of pleasure as heat pooled in her core. She felt you take her wine glass out of her hand and briefly pull back to set the two glasses on the coffee table - then your lips descended upon hers once more, the kiss quickly gaining intensity.

A wanton groan escaped your throat as you pushed yourself into Larissa - it was a beautiful sound, and Larissa could feel her underwear growing damp. She squeezed her thighs together for some much-needed relief, an action which you immediately noticed.

“Where’s your bedroom?” you rasped against Larissa’s lips. Her heartbeat stuttered in her chest - this was moving so fast. She wanted to protest but with the way you were looking at her, eyes half-lidded, pupils wide, cheeks flushed - she found she couldn’t summon up the courage to deny you, despite how her stomach began to burn with anxiety.

Instead, she stood and led you to her bedroom, allowing you to guide her backwards onto the mattress. She felt your fingers toy with the zipper of her dress and push it down to pool at her hips - then, suddenly, your lips were everywhere at once. You planted urgent, demanding kisses down her chest, her stomach - your hands caressed the bare skin of her waist.

These were the touches Larissa had yearned for for so long - your soft fingertips leaving marks on her waist as your warm breath caressed her skin, your lips and tongue and teeth peppering her body with kisses as evidence of your desire. But she wasn’t enjoying them. It was too much, too fast - she was overwhelmed with sensations. The throb between her legs no longer felt pleasant - it felt daunting, dirty even. What would happen when you’d fuck her and notice how skittish she was? What would happen when you’d expect to be pleasured in return and she would, inevitably, fail miserably?

As your lips moved up her body again, Larissa knew she needed to slow this down and confess, before her inexperience became evident and disappointed you. She took a deep breath.

“I don’t have much experience,” Larissa confessed quietly - the words sounded foreign to her ears. She could feel her nerves rising further as she wondered if you would hate her for it, leave immediately and never touch her again - she waited with baited breath to see what you would say.

“A woman like you? I find that hard to believe,” you murmured playfully, your voice low and sultry as you began to trail kisses all along Larissa’s jaw, as your fingers dug into her hips.

You weren’t getting it. Larissa felt, for the umpteenth time in her life, shame well up inside her, warming up her skin and pricking at her eyes. She felt her throat begin to close as panic overtook her body, and she tried to no avail to calm her racing heart with deep breaths as her eyes glazed over with tears.

“Larissa? Larissa?” Everything sounded like she was under water, your voice was so far away. Eventually, she recognized her name and turned to meet your gaze. You were no longer kissing her - you looked down at her in concern, brow furrowed, frowning as your lips sounded out her name.

Larissa took a deep breath to steady herself. She felt foolish for getting so worked up - surely you would think she was some sort of freak. 49 years old and unable to even so much as make out with a woman without having a panic attack.

“Larissa?”

“Yes?” She tried to sound normal, nonchalant, but her voice betrayed her as it gave out, even on that one syllable.

“Where’d you go? What’s going on up there?”

Your fingers caressed her cheek in a soothing gesture and she allowed her eyelids to flutter shut, leaning into the warmth of your touch. She found herself craving it so, so badly, but she couldn’t allow herself to enjoy it - not when it would surely be the last shred of affection she’d ever receive from you. She stared at the ceiling, a hollow feeling settling in her chest.

“We don’t have to do this, we don’t have to do anything. You know that right?” You shifted off of her, lying on your side to face her and propping yourself up on your elbow. When Larissa failed to meet your gaze, she felt your fingers grip her chin, urging her to face you. “We could just watch a movie or something?”

I don’t want to watch a movie. I want to fuck you. I want to be fucked. I want my body to let me have this.

Larissa nodded numbly.

You sat up, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. Larissa moved as if on autopilot, pulling her dress back up and sliding off the bed, guiding you wordlessly back into her small living room. She gestured to the couch and you took a seat.

“Would you like something to drink?” she asked, clearing her throat.

“Just water, thanks.” You offered her a grateful smile, and Larissa winced - she was going to need something stronger than water to get through the evening now, but she didn’t want you to think she was an alcoholic either, so she nodded and padded to the kitchen to grab two glasses of water.

When she returned you were focused on the television, flicking through Netflix. You paused to take one of the glasses out of her hand, careful not to allow your fingers to brush against hers as you did so - Larissa swallowed nervously and averted her eyes, taking a seat next to you - close enough to feel your body heat, but not touching you.

“I feel like Netflix took all the good movies off,” you whined with a slight pout - if Larissa hadn’t been so in her own head, she might have chuckled, finding you quite endearing. “Is there anything you want to watch?”

Larissa felt herself shrug. Her mind was elsewhere, replaying your interactions leading up to now, internally berating herself for letting on that she wasn’t okay. If she’d only been able to play along better… it was something even teenagers did, for fuck’s sake - it shouldn’t be a big deal. If she could just get it over with, then maybe -

“Are you more of a romcom or action kinda gal? Ooh. Maybe you wanna watch a horror movie or something? What about-”

“I’m a virgin.”

“Sorry, what was that?”

You hadn’t heard her. Larissa once again felt the sting of oncoming tears. “I’m a virgin,” she repeated, a bit louder, unable to stop her voice from rising in pitch, eyes trained on the floor in front of her.

The silence that enveloped the two of you was deafening.

A warm hand was placed on her thigh - she whipped her head around to face you, confusion and insecurity marring her features.

Your own eyes shone with care - Larissa felt her heart pound wildly against her ribcage.

“Thank you for telling me,” you said softly. “I’m sorry if I overwhelmed you earlier - I shouldn’t have moved so fast.” You looked almost ashamed, which confused Larissa further… What were you apologizing for? Clearly she was the one with the issues. She shook her head lightly, a bit dazed.

“No, I’m sorry…” Larissa hesitated, swallowing against the lump in her throat and fighting back tears. “I’ll walk you to the door, we can forget this ever happened.” As she stood, she felt your fingers gently encircle her wrist.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Larissa. You don’t have anything to be ashamed of.”

Larissa scoffed, but she made no move to extricate herself from your grip. Not when your warm fingertips were the only thing that could bring her comfort.

“I’ll leave if you want me to… but I’d rather stay and make sure you’re alright - if that’s okay?”

A part of Larissa was screaming, begging, pleading with her to kick you out so she could do what she always did - drown herself in her own self-pity (and maybe half a bottle of wine) and cry. But when she glanced down at you and saw the worry in your eyes, the adorable little crease between your brows that deepened at whatever you saw in Larissa’s own eyes, she nodded and sat back down.

“Is it… would you rather I not touch you right now?” you asked as you dropped Larissa’s wrist. There was a healthy distance between the two of you on the couch - it couldn’t have been more than a foot or two, but it felt like miles to Larissa, who felt the crushing weight of loneliness descending upon her again as you retracted your fingers.

“You can touch me,” she whispered, ashamed at how desperate she sounded. She felt the couch cushions shift next to her, and soon your warm thigh was pressed against hers - then your hand found her own, intertwining your fingers together. Your skin was so soft, your hand fit so perfectly within Larissa’s that it made her breath hitch in her chest, her eyes widening as she took in the sight of your small, feminine hand clasping her own. She wished her hands weren’t as clammy as they were, but you didn’t seem to mind.

“I hope I didn’t scare you away,�� you said timidly. “I really like you and I… I didn’t mean to push you into anything. Fuck, I didn’t know, I’m sorry. I thought…” You trailed off, watching Larissa apprehensively.

“You really like me?” Larissa’s ears had perked up as you’d said it, she figured she must’ve misheard you. You smiled shyly then, and Larissa felt butterflies in her stomach. “Even… even now?”

You let out a low chuckle, giving Larissa’s hand a squeeze. “Even now? Is you being a virgin supposed to change my mind?”

“I’m 49…” Larissa whispered in anguish, her heart constricting in her chest as she realized she was admitting things to you now that she’d never told anyone.

“And? I mean I guess I’m curious why - it can’t be your looks or your personality, because you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, and you’re so easy to talk to… But it doesn’t bother me or anything.”

Larissa sighed, dropping her gaze to your intertwined hands. When she spoke, it was barely audible. “I was never attracted to men, so I didn’t want them to touch me. I didn’t realize I could be attracted to women until college and by the time I’d come to terms with that… let’s just say I’m certain no one would want to deflower someone in their 40s.”

“I would,” you said with a shrug, so nonchalantly that Larissa whipped her head around to face you. You chuckled at her bewildered expression. “Come on, Larissa. I don’t care about that. I like you as a person and I find you attractive. I want to have sex with you, if you also want to have sex with me. I don’t care how many other people you’ve been with - I really don’t care if the answer to that is zero.”

Larissa took a moment to mull over your words. They sounded almost too good to be true - she never thought she’d find someone who would be so calm, so gentle, so unfazed about the whole thing. And, well, that it just so happened to be the woman she had a crush on… she could feel herself nodding at your words.

“But we don’t have to have sex if you don’t want to. Obviously.”

“I want to,” Larissa said firmly, if a little too quickly - it made you smirk, and her cheeks turned scarlet.

“We’ll go at your pace then.” You brought Larissa’s hand up to your lips and pressed a tender kiss to her knuckles. The soft brush of your lips made a rush of heat pool in Larissa’s abdomen. “Only what you’re comfortable with. And if you want to stop, we stop. I want you to have fun, Larissa. I want this to be good for you.”

“Thank you,” Larissa whispered. The smile she received in return was blinding, and her heart felt just a smidge lighter.

“Do you want me to leave for tonight?”

Larissa shook her head no. You snuggled into her side and picked up the abandoned remote again, flicking through a few more options before finally settling on Carol - Larissa felt herself slowly begin to relax as the film started.

A few minutes into the movie, Larissa felt your fingers begin to trace absent-minded patterns on her knee. She shivered at the touch - she could feel herself start to get worked up. She wondered if there was any way to salvage the evening - her attraction to you had only grown through your show of empathy, and maybe now that you knew her secret, her body could feel safe enough to let go.

Larissa turned towards you - your head was resting against her shoulder, it would be so easy to just lean in and-

You turned your head and met her gaze. “Now look who’s staring,” you teased. Larissa’s eyes were glued to your lips as you spoke. You were such a good kisser, you tasted so good. She leaned forward, focused on her goal - your lips curled into a smile as you leaned in as well. Larissa’s eyes fluttered shut the moment your lips met and she let out a breathy moan. You didn’t deepen the kiss - you simply pressed your lips to hers, humming and gently cupping her face in your hands.

Larissa felt emboldened by your gentleness - she parted her lips slightly to lick at yours. You opened your mouth for her, allowing her to explore your mouth before gently flicking your tongue against hers. She felt a mad fluttering in her abdomen at the deepening of the kiss, a little whimper escaping her throat at all of the sensations once again flooding her body.

Pulling back once she’d run out of air, Larissa rested her forehead against yours. Your hot, heavy breaths mingled with her own, her skin tingled with electricity.

“I want to try this again,” she whispered resolutely.

“Really?” You pulled back, your eyes flicking between hers. Your expression was a mixture of concern and excitement, and Larissa nodded.

You stood, extending a hand for Larissa to take and helping her up.

This time you climbed onto the bed first, settling against the pillows and waiting for Larissa. She followed suit, lying down next to you and pressing a hesitant kiss to your lips. She could feel the affection and tenderness with which you kissed her back and quickly relaxed, allowing her hands to rest on your waist and tugging you closer. You wound your arms around her and held her tightly - she felt safe in the minutes that you spent making out, heat slowly building within her.

Larissa froze as your fingers played with the zipper of her dress, her breath quickening. Noticing the change, you removed your hand and sat back on the balls of your feet.

“Are you sure about this?” you asked - there was no judgment detectable in your voice, only sweetness and worry. “Yes, I am, I’m sorry.” Larissa took a deep breath, trying to relax again.

“What if I got undressed first?”

She considered for a moment - yes, perhaps that would make her feel less vulnerable. She nodded and you began to unbutton your blouse.

“May I?” she asked. You smiled and dropped your hands, shimmying a bit closer. She unbuttoned the blouse the rest of the way, pupils dilating as it fell away from your front to reveal your lace-clad breasts. You slid the blouse from your arms and reached behind yourself, unclasping your bra and tossing it aside - your breasts jiggled slightly as you did so, and Larissa felt her mouth go dry.

Shimmying your hips, you slid your skirt down your legs and tossed it aside, before doing the same with your underwear. There you sat, completely naked, thighs parted slightly to reveal the wetness that glistened between your legs. Larissa’s own pussy throbbed with desire at the sight - she felt an overwhelming sense of euphoria at the fact that you were so aroused, in spite of everything that had transpired that evening.

“All for you,” you purred seductively, smirking as you noticed Larissa’s eyes glued to your cunt. Larissa snapped her gaze up to meet yours and you leaned forward again, pressing a soft kiss to her lips as your fingers once again found her zipper and began to drag it down. She moved her body accordingly so you could slide the dress down her body - nodding as you cocked your head in question when the dress pooled at her hips. You slipped her out of the dress completely, then crawled up her body and settled next to her, toying with the clasp of her bra.

“You can take it off,” she whispered, almost amused at how fast you complied.

The hunger with which your eyes roved over her torso, drinking in the milky expanse of her soft stomach, the swell of her breasts, her pink nipples that slowly hardened at the chill in the air - it felt like a drug to Larissa. She’d never had anyone look at her like that - no one had ever seen her naked in such a context, and she felt her chest flush.

Part of her wanted to cross her arms over her chest, her anxiety rising at the unabashed attention - but then you lowered your mouth to her right nipple and gently soothed your tongue over the bud, and her brain short-circuited.

Arching her back off the bed, Larissa let out a strangled, breathy sound - your tongue on her nipple felt like velvet, divine and soothing, and it sent tingles down her spine. Then she felt you roll her other nipple between your fingers and groaned - it was a filthy sound, and her hand shot up immediately to cover her mouth.

Your tongue stilled and you looked up at her with a smile. “No, I want to hear you. That was a very pretty sound you made.” Larissa blushed, removing her hand from her mouth. Your tongue resumed its ministrations, slowly causing the small, pink bud to harden, and Larissa whimpered at the shocks of pleasure that originated behind her navel and rippled outwards in waves.

“Does it feel good when I do that?” you murmured, moving your mouth from one breast to the other, and Larissa nodded fervently.

“Please, keep going,” she breathed, a tightness coiling in her abdomen as your hand joined your tongue to knead at the soft flesh of her breast.

Once you’d showered each of her breasts in ample attention, your lips began trailing down her stomach - much gentler this time, much slower. Larissa almost felt embarrassed at how her body was reacting, how excited she seemed to be getting, as your lips left a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

“Can I take these off?” You toyed with the waistband of Larissa’s underwear - she paused for a moment, before finally nodding again.

Your fingers brushed against her skin as you tugged her underwear down her legs, then settled between them. With you suddenly this close to her pussy, Larissa began to worry whether she should have shaved. She felt her nerves rising again as she waited for you to tell her how disgusting you found her - then she felt your lips begin to press reverent kisses to the little curls, as if you could sense her anxiety and were trying to reassure her that it was okay.

“Is it okay if I use my mouth?” you asked sweetly. Her eyes widened and her face suddenly felt hot - you were being so considerate, asking all these questions, making sure she was okay with everything, and Larissa wished you didn’t have to do that - she wished she could just be okay with whatever you wanted to do to her.

“I’m sorry, this must be terribly tedious,” she mumbled, her voice dripping with insecurity that, in any other context, she simply did not possess - she hated herself for it right now, and she was unable to meet your gaze because of it. A light slap to her thigh shocked her into looking at you, however. You frowned up at her from between her legs. “Hey. Don’t say that. Making love to you isn’t a chore, Larissa. I want this. So bad. And I want you to enjoy yourself as much as I am. Understood?”

“Yes,” she replied, breathless at your display of dominance.

“Good girl.” Larissa let out an involuntary moan - she had never considered that she would enjoy being called a ‘good girl’, but she couldn’t help the way her cunt throbbed at your words. “So. Is it okay if I use my mouth? Or do you want to stop?”

“N-no, I don’t want to stop… you can use your mouth.”

You beamed up at her, before carefully hooking one of her legs over your shoulder - Larissa could feel herself being spread open at the action.

Soft lips began littering her inner thighs with gentle kisses. Larissa tried her best to stay still, not to squirm - but when your mouth finally met her cunt, your tongue slowly trailing up her slit, she couldn’t help but buck her hips into your face.

A soft groan left her lips when she felt your tongue flick against her clit - she was so sensitive, and the touch was so different than when she pleasured herself - it made every hair on her body stand on end. Your lips closed around the sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking gently and drawing little whimpers from Larissa’s throat as her back arched. She felt herself quickly getting lost in the sensation.

“Does this feel good?” you murmured, pulling back for a moment.

“Y-yes,” Larissa panted - her breathing was already beginning to get heavier.

“If anything doesn’t feel good, if you don’t like it, tell me, okay?”

Larissa hummed and you began licking at her folds, gathering her juices on your tongue and letting out a loud moan of delight. “Fuck, you taste amazing.” Larissa couldn’t help but blush again, but her embarrassment was forgotten the second your tongue circled her clit. She shut her eyes and tried to focus on relaxing.

She found herself unsure what to do with her hands - she briefly brought them to your head, then fisted at the sheets next to her. Then she felt something brush against them and opened her eyes to see your own hands blindly reaching out and grabbing for hers. She intertwined your fingers, her heart leaping in her chest as you gave her hands a squeeze.

The coil in Larissa’s stomach was tightening by the second. She felt herself growing more comfortable with every passing minute, allowing unfiltered moans to pass her lips, spurred on by the noises you were making - the breathy groans, the wet sound of your tongue lapping at her folds. When you gently circled her entrance, she couldn’t help but whine and buck her hips.

“C-can you go inside?” she asked quietly, rolling her hips against your face. You groaned in response, slowly pushing your tongue into her hole. Larissa’s walls fluttered against your tongue and she let out a guttural moan.

“Good girl,” you purred between thrusts of your tongue. “You’re doing so well for me, love.”

Larissa could feel herself getting closer, her thighs trembling - she tried to keep her legs open but the next thrust of your tongue caused her to snap them shut around your head.

Slowly she began to unravel, her release cresting like a wave as you alternated between teasing her hole and sucking her clit. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she lost herself completely in the feeling of ecstasy overwhelming her body.

She felt your tongue soothe over her folds, then her thighs, lapping up the evidence of her orgasm. You gave her hands a gentle squeeze, before gently extracting your fingers from her grip and crawling up her body. Larissa’s eyes were still closed when she felt your lips on her own. At your tongue’s insistence she parted her lips, whining at the taste of herself as you licked into her mouth.

When you pulled back and cupped her cheek, Larissa opened her eyes. She was almost shocked at the sheer amount of affection and adoration that swirled in your pupils as you searched her face - it made her heart flutter in her chest.

“How was it?”

Larissa hesitated - what was she supposed to say to that? It was everything I’ve ever wanted and more, because it was with you… She buried her face in the crook of your neck and sighed, inhaling the scent of sweat and your sweet perfume on your skin.

“Really good, darling,” is what she settled for as she contentedly nuzzled her nose into your pulse point. She felt your arms wind around her and allowed herself to be held as her breathing slowed. A chaste kiss was pressed to the crown of her head and she smiled against your skin.

You shifted next to her, wrapping your legs around hers, and Larissa could feel your slick rub against her thigh. Tentatively, Larissa allowed her hand to trail down your bare waist, over the swell of your hip. She could feel you shiver against her as her fingertips brushed against your mound.

Larissa reached between your thighs and pulled back to get a look at your face - you watched her intently, pupils blown, lips parted to let out shaky breaths. Slowly, Larissa spread your folds with her fingers, gasping as she felt how wet you were. She gathered some of your juices on her fingertips and massaged them over your swollen clit, enraptured by the soft moan you let out, the way your eyes fluttered shut and your hips twitched seemingly of their own accord.

With your eyes closed, Larissa allowed herself to admire your beauty, the way you gave in to her touches. She touched you the way she normally touched herself, and it seemed to please you - your face was gorgeously flushed, the most obscene noises slipping from between your swollen lips. When you arched your back, Larissa’s eyes fell to your nipples, hardened with arousal. She lowered her mouth to your breast, flattening her tongue and soothing it over the pink bud, drawing a moan from your chest.

“Bite,” you murmured. Larissa paused, glancing up at your face - then felt your hands on the back of her head, pushing her into your chest. She licked your nipple once more, before grazing her teeth against it and gently biting.

“Fuck, just like that,” you mewled, and Larissa bit down again, the heat within her own body building at the string of obscenities dripping from your lips.

You rolled your hips against her hand as she continued to stroke your clit. She felt your fingers encircle her wrist, guiding her to your dripping hole. “Two fingers,” you instructed breathily.

Larissa complied, first pushing in one, then two fingers, inadvertently biting down on your nipple again as she felt your walls draw her fingers in. She curled her fingers, experimenting with the pace of her thrusts until she heard your breathing stutter.

“Shit, you’re so good at this,” you praised, your thighs beginning to shake and the rolling of your hips becoming more and more erratic. Your face contorted with pleasure as you rode Larissa’s fingers - she felt your cum drip down her hand as you tensed around her, then you sighed and relaxed into the mattress.

Larissa sat up, pulling her fingers out of your cunt - the needy mewl that left your lips caused a shiver to run down her spine. Your eyes met hers, full of affection and desire, and she felt emboldened - she brought her fingers up to her mouth and licked them clean, moaning at the taste. It was intoxicating - she knew she could get addicted to that taste.

“C’mere,” you murmured, holding your arms open for Larissa. She settled into them, slinging an arm around your bare waist and tugging you closer. You pressed a kiss to her lips. “That-” kiss “felt-” kiss “incredible” kiss.

Larissa felt herself blushing at your compliment - she couldn’t have asked for a better experience for her first time. It might have come some twenty years later than she’d hoped for, but if it meant she could be here with you right now, your fingertips tracing soothing patterns on her back, your breath tickling her cheek - she’d wait those twenty years all over again.

“I’m glad it was you, you know,” she whispered.

“I’m glad, too,” you whispered back, a gentle smile tugging at your lips.

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vinvantae · 1 year ago

Text

Unmasked

14/16

<<< previous part

Word count: 3.9k

A/N: Big thanks to my girl @formulaforza for not only making one of the edits for me but for beta-reading and helping me make this chapter as good as it can be. Love u ❤️ x

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It was uncomfortably warm when you arrived in Spain, humid and sweaty and sticky - you still hadn’t managed to pull what Max and the others had planned out of your boyfriend.

Charles had whined half the morning when you refused to hold his hand that day, clammy palms, you claimed, but in reality you were hoping to sneak into the Ferrari hospitality as discreetly as possible.

You trudged through the paddock with your head down, cap covering your face as you head towards your driver’s room. Sometime before dawn, the PR team had sent over the press conference schedule.The FIA had decided to torture you, putting you alongside the four men who hadn’t publicly defended you from the harassment. They didn’t even know that privately, three of them were fully on your team, so it definitely felt like the sport’s governing body had resorted to bullying.

“Cherie, you’ve barely spoken to me this morning,” his voice was soft, a hand on the small of your back as you stepped inside. “Talk to me.”

“Did you see who they’ve put in my press conference?” Your tone matched his, lifting your eyes from the floor. “I think the FIA are on the side of the dickheads, trying to get me to leave.”

He frowned. “Why would you say that?”

“Because. Why else would they put me in a room with four men that they think hate me?” A soft huff left your lips as you chucked your bag down on a seat as the two of you stepped into the privacy of your room - Charles shutting the door with a gentle click. “It’s just plain nasty. As far as they know the four of them think I don’t deserve my seat.”

“Well.” He placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “They’re going to kick themselves when they learn the truth.”

You frowned. “What truth? I don’t know what I’m walking into this morning…”

“Trust me. It’s going to be okay.”

You want to believe him, but it’s terrifying going into what would mostly likely be a room full of men who were expecting you to be absolutely tortured by your rivals. You knew the boys had good intentions but not knowing what those intentions were made your stomach flip. Instead of responding to Charles, you gave him a hasty peck on the lips before heading out to said media duties.

It was still fairly quiet around the paddock - not too many people flaunting their VIP passes this early in the weekend, so it was easy to slip through without too much hassle. You’re only stopped once by a group of girls who were all very kind and only asked for autographs. “I can’t believe they’ve put you in a press conference with those little bitches. How hard is it to put out a post saying they support you?”

Your cheeks flushed a soft pink. “It’s kind of hard to explain but Max, Pierre and Esteban do have my back they’re just… I don’t know, I know as little as you.”

“Well, best of luck, y/n. We’ve got your back if you need to teach them a thing or two.” One of them grinned.

Moments like this reminded you exactly of why you wanted to be a driver in the first place. You wanted to be the woman that others looked to for inspiration. You tried to remind yourself of this when a small gaggle of men leered at you as you continued making your way to the conference. They didn’t matter. They’d never matter. And if you were about to walk into a meeting with no back-up then you’d have to remember who exactly you were fighting for.

For the little girl who was watching her very first race, squished between Mum and Dad on the sofa and seeing someone like her amongst the 20 best drivers in the world.

For the teenager who hid under her sheets at 3am to watch races just to see her idol cross the line and wish that maybe it could be her one day.

And for all the women who never got the chance to race, believing they’d never be able to - finally seeing a woman achieve greatness in a sport that was supposed to be just for men.

You do it for them, for all of them.

You took a deep breath before stepping into the holding room. Immediately, four pairs of eyes were on you. You held your head high, not even sparing a glance towards the ones you considered friends. Just as Max was about to cross the room to speak with you, the door to the press conference swung open and the five of you were ushered into the room.

Max squeezed past you so you were sandwiched between him and Pierre on the sofa. You decided not to question it, just sitting down and taking a deep breath.

Let’s just get this over with.

“Let’s just start by saying Fernando, Esteban, Pierre, Y/N and Max - thank you all for joining us nice and early this morning.”

The five of you all gave various hellos to the room, you shifted uncomfortably in your seat as all of the eyes seemed to be on you. You knew exactly what kind of questions were coming - why else would they have put you in the room with these specific drivers if the debate of you being in the sport wasn’t about to be raised once more.

“We have seen a recent influx of negative responses about y/n being on the grid.” You sat up straighter - prepared to defend yourself. “Most of the grid has shown their support, but the four of you have remained quiet. Of course you don’t owe y/n defence but Max, Pierre and Esteban you’ve raced alongside her since you were children. So is there a reason you’ve chosen to remain quiet?”

“We have something to say actually.” Max cleared his throat. “I know we have disappointed people, especially our female fans, for not speaking out in support of y/n. But the three of us believe that putting a post on instagram is simply not enough. It wasn’t a big enough statement.”

Pierre watched your brow furrow as you listened to Max - he knew the words that were about to come out of the Dutchman’s mouth were going to shock you. He wanted to reach out and put a comforting hand on your shoulder but it would draw too much attention so he simply kept a watchful eye on you.

All eyes in the room followed a member of the Red Bull team as they crossed the room and handed Max a piece of paper. You didn’t get a good look at it before he started to read it.

“As a direct consequence of the FIA’s failure to take sufficient and decisive action in protection of driver 30, Y/n L/n, from the violence and harassment faced since the public reveal of driver 30’s identity, a coalition of drivers have signed a petition.” Your eyes burr into the side of his head, but he doesn’t dare look up from the page. “Led by drivers 1, 10, 16, and 30; Myself, Pierre Gasly, Charles Leclerc, and Esteban Ocon, a total of fourteen drivers have agreed to protest the Spanish Grand Prix, including all media duties, free practices, and competitive sessions, until appropriate measures have been taken to protect driver 30, and any other driver, from life-threatening behaviour. The drivers participating in this protest are as follows; drivers 1, 55, 44, 63, 16, 3, 4, 31, 10, 22, 5, 18, 24, and 77. This statement is being formally filed with the FIA immediately following the conclusion of this press conference. The official outline, along with the signatures of all 14 drivers will hopefully be made public by the FIA. If Y/n wishes to continue taking questions, she is free to. The rest of us retain the right to no comment if we so choose.”

The silence in the room was palpable - no one spoke a word as Max handed the piece of paper to you so you could read the names on the petition. You couldn’t even focus on the words, the room becoming a blur. Protest the race?

“The FIA only has so much power over what people post online, surely you cannot protest a race over that?”

“We are aware of this, but y/n was physically assaulted in the paddock. This should have never been a possibility.” Pierre spoke up next, you blinked hard a couple of times to bring yourself back into the room - your facade you’d put on had been blown, so confused by the fact the grid wanted to protect you so intensely. “The FIA have taken absolutely no action at all after the assault. Should’ve been the first thing they did.”

“Y/n, you look taken aback by this statement. Do you have anything to say?”

You lifted your eyes from the petition to see the entire room staring at you. “I uh… I don’t have words to describe how grateful I am. I tried to talk the guys out of doing anything drastic but the fact that so many of them are willing to stick their necks out to stand up for me like this? I… I’ll forever be in debt to them.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little unfair that they’ll all risk being fined while you have no consequences?”

Max could see your jaw visibly clench and he prepared himself for the worst. “Are you serious? How was I supposed to sign a petition that I didn’t even know existed? I never asked for any of this… if they protest the race, you bet I’ll be with them.”

“We actively chose to not tell y/n about this petition as we knew she would ask us not to do it.” Esteban leant forward as he spoke. “It would not have been fair of us to put this on her shoulders with all of the stuff she’s already dealing with.”

You gave him a gentle, sincere smile before finally taking a moment to read the names on the petition. Some of the names weren’t so shocking but others such as George and Yuki were pleasant surprises. There was only a small handful who hadn’t and you couldn’t help but smile, a stray tear escaping at the fact this grid of men - who had nothing to gain - were willing to face fines and penalties to ensure your safety.

“Well, we eagerly wait to see how the FIA responds, best of luck this weekend. To all of you.”

As soon as you stepped back into the holding room you threw your arms around Max and hugged him tight. “You’re absolutely insane.”

“It had to be drastic to get them to listen.” He chuckled, hugging you back.

“I hope you all know what you are risking.” Fernando finally spoke up after sitting in complete silence for the entire session. “All of this to stop some bullying? It is far too much.”

Esteban scoffed a little. “Do you really think the FIA aren’t going to take action when they see the current and former champions aren’t going to race? Even if they don’t believe in what we are protesting for, the amount of money they stand to lose from this is enough of a threat.”

The two teammates stared each other down, the tension palpable. You hoped Esteban was right, ideally you didn’t want any of the boys to get in trouble for you.

But now it was all in the FIA’s hands.

*******

(Credits to Mack for this ❤️ thank you again)

*******

[Simon Lazenby] -“Hello everyone, welcome to Spain just ahead of Free Practice One. I’m Simon Lazenby and today I’m joined by Martin Brundle, Naomi Schiff and Nico Rosberg. Bit of a strange one here today ladies and gentlemen, isn’t it? Well, I guess we better jump into the biggest news to break this weekend - most of the grid have signed a petition and will currently not be racing or performing media duties this weekend. What do we think?”

[Martin Brundle] - “I have to be honest Simon, I do think it’s all a bit of an overreaction from the drivers. We all get critiques through our career whether it be in person or online, so I think y/n should just get her head down and crack on. The fans came to see a race, it shouldn’t be put on hold just for her.”

[Nico Rosberg] - “I have to disagree with you there Martin. What y/n has been put through since her reveal is unprecedented. We as a sport should be celebrating the fact that a woman is one of the twenty best drivers in the world and I think the drivers standing up for her is wonderful to see.”

[Naomi Schiff] - “I agree with you Nico. None of you will ever really understand what it’s like to be a woman in motorsport - we are held to a much higher standard than any man would ever be.”

[MB] - “But don’t you just think, as a two time champ, that she should have a strong enough head to be able to see past the criticisms?”

[NS] - “It’s not just criticisms, Martin. It’s physical violence and hate speech. Any minority in this sport whether it be y/n, Lewis, Yuki or Guanyu will always have people critiquing things they cannot change about themselves. Sure, someone may have called you a bad driver back in your day, but no one has ever told you to get back in the kitchen or go back to where you came from.”

[SL]- “Branching off from that, as you said, other drivers have received hate speech in the past. How would you all say y/n’s situation is any different?”

[NR] - “Being Lewis’ teammate and even as kids, he went through things similar to what y/n is going through. I think the biggest difference is, we didn’t have someone like Lewis to really show us how wrong it was that he was being treated so differently. Y/n is luckily in an era where she is surrounded by drivers who can see just how important it is to her and female fans that they don’t let things like this get off lightly.”

[NS] - “I think it’s important that the FIA take more protective action for all of our drivers. It is just a shame it’s taken most of the grid threatening a protest for the conversation to even take place. Y/n is a two time WDC and it feels like that has all been forgotten just because she’s a woman - it’s about time that the governing body of the sport take things like this more seriously.”

[SL] - “Now onto the drivers who aren’t protesting the race. We have Fernando Alonso, both Williams drivers and both Haas drivers. Now we have spoken to both Williams and Haas respectively and they say it is a purely financial decision not to let their drivers protest but they stand in solidarity with y/n and the rest of the grid. But Fernando is a bit of a different story.”

[MB] - “Fernando’s very old school. Very level headed about dealing with your criticisms - I guess the same as me. So it’s no surprise that he is not partaking in the protest.”

[NS]- “It is a shame as he is one of the most prolific drivers on the grid but I think the message will stay clear with Lewis, Sebastian and Max all taking a stand this weekend.”

[SL]- “Thank you all. Coming up next, hopefully following some affirmative action from the FIA this morning, is Free Practice One. Stay tuned.”

****

You tapped your foot nervously against the floor as you waited to hear The FIA’s decision. They unsurprisingly had a very quick turnaround of how they were going to respond to the protest and now the fate of the grid was fully in their hands. They could choose to do nothing and everyone takes a fine or they could actually respond.

Charles sat beside you on the sofa, his hand coming to rest on your knee to stop your leg from bouncing. “It’s all going to be okay, y/n. They can’t not do something… there’s only 5 drivers currently racing, the fans would be outraged if that’s what they paid to see.”

“It’s just a lot. I'm just not sure what they can do,” you said, voice meek. You lifted your eyes to meet his gaze. “Like if people want to hurt me they will, y’know?”

He pressed a chaste kiss to your temple. “They have to do something, I’m sure it’s all going to turn out okay.”

Attention was swiftly stolen as the door slowly opened - a small man with a clipboard entered with an unreadable expression on his face. “Can you all please follow me?”

The sound of 15 pairs of footsteps scuffling out of the room echoed through your head, Charles’ warm hand on the small of your back - the heat of his touch seeps through your Ferrari polo. The 15 of you were sat around a boardroom table facing the president of the FIA and half a dozen other high ranking members. It felt much more like they were sentencing you than opening a conversation.

Your heartbeat was loud in your ears as you locked eyes with the man who was about to decide the fate of the grid.

“Thank you all for meeting with us on such short notice. We hope what we have come up with is a solution that is both suitable and protective for both us and all of you so we can get this resolved quickly and avoid any more of the race weekend being missed.”

It was like he rehearsed the informality of it all, trying like a gentle parent to get down to your level before scolding. You see right through it, through him, through this whole smoke and mirrors show.

Charles linked his hand with yours, the feeling of his fingers intertwined against your skin calms you, steadies your half-rapid breathing. You looked at him, studying his profile for just a brief moment before remembering where you were.

“Any assaults, physical or verbal, performed by any individual at a Grand Prix towards any driver or personnel will immediately be banned indefinitely from any sports and events governed by the FIA. As much as we would like to do more about online harassment, that is much out of our hands - we hope you understand. We will put out a statement saying that we do not tolerate hate speech of any kind.”

Your eyes flickered across the room to gauge the reaction of your rivals. They hadn’t told you what they wanted from the FIA but, to you, it seemed like more than enough. Not only did it protect you but it also covered everyone else. You weren’t leading the protest, though, so in the end it wasn’t up to you. “May we have the room?” Sebastian was the one to break the silence, as one of the leaders of the GPDA he wanted to give everyone the time to collect their thoughts and discuss, rather than having one of fifteen feel that they could speak on behalf of everyone.

The president nodded and the men escorted themselves out - everyone’s eyes fell on you. “Why are you all looking at me like that?”

“…what do you think?” Max asked.

“I didn’t start the petition,” you held your hands up defensively. “It’s not up to me.”

George frowned. “Surely you have an opinion though?”

“Of course I do,” a soft sigh left your lips. “But at the end of the day it’s you guys who are sticking your necks out. If you think this enough then say it is. If it’s not, say it’s not.”

Max gave you a gentle smile, placing a hand on your shoulder as he stood up. “As much as I’d like for them to take more preventative action rather than reactive - I think it’s the most realistic solution and I’m ready to end the protest.”

“Everyone agree? If so then I can get them to write up the decision and we can all get back to doing what we love best, right?” Sebastian hummed, trying to dissipate some of the tension in the room.

A chorus of agreement echoed through the room and you felt like you could finally relax. It had been the longest few hours of your life and as grateful as you were for all of these men to have your back - it would be nice to put it behind you and not have them get in any more trouble.

After the formalities were all done and dusted, a final consensus reached between the drivers and the FIA, it was over. You were finally able to watch them all get back in the cars and do what they all do best.

The next few days felt like a blur, between being ushered from interview to interview about the protest and putting your best foot forward during your time in the car - you barely had a moment to breathe. But after Ferrari achieved a 1-2 start during qualifying, it really felt like the weekend had started over fresh.

“You ready?” Charles approached you on the starting grid, his helmet dangling from his fingers.

You gave him an excited smile. “Yeah, I’m so glad everyone gets to race. I was worried there for a second.”

The softening of his gaze made your heart skip a beat. With his free hand he reached up and cupped your jaw in his hand - brushing a thumb across your skin. “You’re worth it…”

As he lent in, you felt your breath catch in your throat but just before his lips met yours he ducked to the side to whisper in his ear. “But I will beat you in this race, Cherie.”

“I’d like to see you try.” You teased, placing a hand in the centre of his chest to push him back. “I’m on pole for a reason, no?”

“Touché. Bonne chance.”

This time he did kiss you, only for a moment - but long enough to ignite the adrenaline inside you before stepping away to get ready for the race. You shook off the nerves before hopping into the cockpit, anxious to get going.

A small part of you felt a little guilty that you’d qualified ahead of these men who’d helped you but the championship came first. You had to start pumping out results if you wanted to win and knowing now that the FIA was doing their part to protect you - you could focus on what’s important.

And as the green lights began to flash you took one more deep breath before focusing on the clear road ahead.

Somewhere, a little girl’s eyes are glued to her television screen, to your helmet and the infamous red car. For her, for all of the versions of her, it was time to win this race.

******

Next part >>>

Sorry for the delay on this one! Writers block hit me hard 😭 hope you enjoyed! One more thank u to @formulaforza for helping me, couldn’t have done it without you ❤️

Want to be notified when I post? Join our discord, head over to #reaction-roles and click the sunflower 🌻

#f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 #charles leclerc #formula one #x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader

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spinchip · 7 months ago

Text

Bloat

(Warnings: disrespectful discussion of self harm/suicide by a side character. murder. Lots of death.)

They're here about a series of murders. Nya doesn't know why they dragged the ninja out to this nothing town with its stone castle and still water lake, with its missing persons and their empty spaces. The ninja aren't detectives, even if Zane likes to pretend. With twelve people missing, Zane keeps his fedora at home and approaches this delicately. Nya wishes he'd put on that stupid hat.

She's also not sure why she keeps slipping up and saying murder when it's really just missing persons, officially. Eight men, four women, varying ages. All different kinds of backgrounds vanished without a trace.

The ocean mourned each dead fish, every shrimp swallowed alive, but it didn't interfere. Nya struggles to find the point to this. Everyone is somber and cold in the rainy afternoon fog. Jay tries and fails to speak to her several times, slinking away with his tail between his legs each time. She could have been nicer, less blunt, when she ended things. The river does not apologize to the stone it shaves to dust. Her thoughts still feel disjointed and off. The lake's surface is so serene it's mirrored, reflecting gray clouds and dark nights.

The first two victims were teenage boys who snuck out to buy cigarettes. They were supposed to meet a mutual friend but failed to show up. The living boy is distraught, a mess, consumed by guilt and grief and fear for his friends. Kai takes Nya by the upper arm and hauls her away from the group when she says something uncouth, insensitive, cruel. The ocean had no use for manners.

She dreams of drowning in a bathtub, but she doesn't struggle. She simply sinks under cold water, closes her eyes, and-

She wakes up vomiting brackish water over the edge of her bed and doesn't tell anyone.

The seventh victim is hardly considered a victim at all. She'd tried to kill herself three weeks before she went missing, and the rude cop with the badly trimmed beard scoffs at her inclusion in the list. Probably snuck off to the woods, he sneers, finished slitting up her wrists. Nothing to do with these other cases, just lumped in there to do it.

But her mother said she'd changed her mind. What is the significance in wanting to live when death will come for you regardless? She thinks about that girl the most, and hopes she found peace.

Nya feels more aligned with the blood under her skin than the rest of her body. Flow. Liquid. It rushes through her veins like whitewater rapids.

She dreams of inky blackness, encased by water. She wakes up vomiting water again, but Zane is sitting by her bedside with a bucket and paper towel. His eyes are cold despite how he tries to hide it. They're always cold, now.

Bad dream? He asks, reserved. It's a trap but she doesn't know how.

Go back to bed She says instead, rolling over and ignoring him for the rest of the night. He doesn't leave. She doesn't fall back asleep.

Cole gets her to eat even when bread and eggs taste like salt water and seaweed. She hates the taste of the water from the tap. The lake is covered by a thin layer of mist and it smells old and stagnant. Settled water, too much of it.

Charles, the older man who tends to the castle grounds, tells her it's a man-made lake. Put together by the previous lord and lady of the land, dug out by workers paid pennies. He worked on it when he was just a boy. He doesn't say much, and he doesn't do much around the castle. Old and feeble, his mind has gone spoiled. He looks at Nya like she's inhuman.

The last victim was the lord's son, Albert. He's the only one whose name they learn immediately, the police placing his file on top of all of the others and ranking him at priority number one. It's time to do something now that the lord's son is missing.

He'll have my head, Lord Vonnet will, if I don't return his son safely The lord's royal guard dabs his sweaty forehead with a damp towel.

You poor bastard, Nya says before she can think, get your affairs in order.

Lloyd is the one to drag her out of the room looking mortified. Zane follows him out and they exchange a handful of quiet words that Nya can't hear behind the raging waves crashing in her ears. Zane takes her out to the lake.

They are all dead he says simply.

Since before we even set foot in town she confirms.

They are in the lake.

She closes her eyes and sees still, black water. At the very bottom.

The wind blows a sour smell off the surface of the lake. It might have been beautiful, once. When it was fresh and the water was clear and blue. Before it was filled with rot.

I do not know who did it he confesses I keep having bad dreams.

I dream I'm drowning she offers.

I dream I am throwing bodies in the lake he gives back.

She stares at the horizon I feel nothing. Isn't that awful.

He shrugs the ocean does not care to investigate every whale fall.

Interesting choice of words. Whale fall. There are no fish in this lake, it's all man-made she looks at him with dull eyes you think something is eating

When I toss them in the lake i Am certain they will never be found

You're not bothered by this either

He shrugs again, an entirely human act for a man whose eyes are so detached, an Emperor does not care to investigate the death of every subject

She stands and ties her hair into a bun, I'll draw them up, can you make them float?

She doesn't bother waiting for an answer, sinking her awareness down down down to the bottom of the lake. She focuses on the vaguely human shaped masses in the water, cupping them and hauling them to the surface where she lets them go and returns to the bottom. She's so powerful now she doesn't need to step foot into the water to raise up the bodies. She begins to find cow and deer carcasses alongside men and women. She finds bones. She finds old jewelry and clothes.

Finally, she finds the animal.

It was given the name stronsay by the whales and sea lions up north, where these things are typically found. Giant sea serpents, rare in the ocean- non-existent in freshwater lakes. Especially never found in man-made ones like this, too barren to support life. It was juvenile, small, and had not yet shed its baby skin. It was not thriving in this fresh water, but it would have lived until it was too big to move in this thing.

Zanes frozen the bodies of the dead and dragged them ashore.

The lord's son is one of the dead, his body in a poor state. When the rest of the ninja and the police come, after they thaw out his body, they find a leather-bound journal where he talks about the pet he hatched from an egg he found in the cold waters on his last holiday. He wrote extensively about how hungry it was, and exactly how he fed it.

He couldn’t keep up with its appetite, Nya says, staring down at his wet, bloated body.

Icarus Zane mutters at her side.

What will become of the beast? The mustaches policeman asks.

We shall slaughter it! The Lady of the land wails, And stick its head on a pike!

It will be safely and humanely relocated Nya corrects her cooly, Do not allow anyone near the lake before it is moved. Unless you don't like them.

Nya Kai warns.

Later, while Lloyd oversees the beasts removal and the others are likewise occupied, Zane asks do you think we are like them?

Dead?

Changed forever. Call it rot, putrefaction, trauma- altered and, ultimately, lost He murmurs.

I would prefer to just be dead she says without thinking, a thrum of shock at the admission the first tangible emotion she's had in days. She remembers the seventh victim. She'd changed her mind.

Zane grins and it's all teeth, a baring of bone.

Where does that leave us, if we are changed? She looks away, staring out at the lake.

Alone He says simply.

We have each other, don’t we? You understand me. I understand you.

We do He looks at her and she looks at him.

The kiss tastes like saltwater and blood. She kisses him again.

#ninjago #zane julien #nya ninjago #spinchip fic #death #suicide #self harm #braincellshipping #this was a really experimental piece sorray

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