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olivianott · 10 months ago

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WHITE CURTAINS

ꕤ Theo Nott x fem!reader

ꕤ part two to WHITE DRESS

ꕤ warnings: enemies to lovers, pure smut, unprotected sex, explicit content not for minors, 18+ please don’t kill me, I don’t speak italian

It’s 3am again. Sometime around lunch you decided that you were not going to meet Theodore tonight. But here you are, in another very thin, almost sheer floor-length dress, slowly steping down the stairs to the pool.

He is already there, thankfully, sitting on one of the big, four poster beach beds with cushions and curtains and everything.

After spending the whole day thinking about last night, replaying every touch and kiss that happened, it still feels like a dream, not real, like it wasn’t even you. But you can’t deny the desire you felt for him. And the pull you feel now. Not allowing yourself to feel pathetic about lusting after a boy that was constantly mean to you the whole time you have known him, you tell yourself that you were made to be worshipped, and yesterday Theodore looked like he was ready to do that.

His back is facing the entrance when you reach the pool area, but he turns when he hears your footsteps in the quiet of the night. You see the relief in his features. He was worried you weren’t coming. Good. His gaze then drops to your dress, all the way to the ground and his face hardens for a second. His smirk starting to match yours, he gives a little laugh: “Of course.”

“What? You think I’ll just do whatever you say? Think again. You have been nothing but asshole to me since the day we met.” You respond, with a little glare, slowly walking closer to him.

“Now now amore, you obviously don’t remember the first time we met, do you?” He grabs your chin with his fingers and makes you look into his eyes. “I wanted to talk to you, brought you a drink, and you ignored me, looking all around me searching for someone else as if I wasn’t even there. Remember? Matheo’s birthday party?”

Shit. Mattheo’s party. Of course you didn’t remember it until now. You were still in an angry heartbroken stage, pining after your ex, drunk off your ass.

Theo sees the realization dawn on your face.

“My ego was hurt. I was mesmerized by you from the first moment I saw you and you ignored me so hard, you didn’t even say one word to me. When I saw that being mean got your attention, I couldn’t help myself. I’m sorry, it was childish of me, I admit.”

You see a little bit of embarrassment in his eyes. Wow. So you were the asshole first.

“I was not in the right mindset at that party.” You bite your lip, and turn your eyes down instinctively, feeling a little ashamed too.

With a hand under you chin, he pulls your face up, his eyes fall to your lips, all the embarrassment gone in an instant. His thumb swipes your lip out from between your teeth. He is bold again. “You’re trying to kill me, princessa? Like last night? Salazar, the view of your body, that wet dress sticking to you. I thought I died and gone to heaven.” While he is talking, his hands travel from your face, down your neck and sides until they settle on your hips, playing with the delicate fabric of your dress.

“I hope you know I keep my promises, diavolina.” With that he fists the material and you feel it strain against your skin.

You shiver at his words, the feeling of his hands, and the promise of ruining the dress. That’s why you wore it. To spite him. To show him you are in control. But are you? With the look in his eyes suggesting he imagines you without the offending fabric, you wish you weren’t wearing it.

The air around you grows thick and heavy, it feels charged somehow.

“I have thought about kissing you since I first laid eyes on you at that party,” Theo says while his hand comes up and rests on the back of your neck, fingers tangling in you hair. “but kissing you yesterday? Better than anything I could have imagined.” You feel the hint of possessiveness in his touch on your neck and in the next second he crashes his lips against yours. He is not gentle, his tongue exploring your mouth, your whole body is on fire from his touch.

His hands travel down and settle on your hips again, fingers walking the delicate material of the longest dress you own up, higher and higher on your legs, until the length is gathered up in his fists against your hips. He does that so slowly, while still kissing you deeply and you feel like you’re gonna combust. Finally, you feel his long fingers against the skin of your thighs and you feel lightheaded.

“This ok, princessa?”

With the fog in your mind you can only nod your head at him.

“No that’s not good enough, amore, tell me that you want this with me.” Fingers on your hips tighten to the point of bruising your skin and he grabs you and sits you up on the mattress of the beach bed. He stands between your legs, the curtains flowing in the wind around you and you feel like you’ll die if he doesn’t kiss you again.

“Yes, Theo, please!” His face is so close to yours and you feel delirious from the intense look in his eyes.

“Good girl.” He takes off his t-shirt, while you open his belt and fumble with a button on his trousers. “That wasn’t so hard, was it, princessa?”

Theo whispers and you love hate his smirk so much. “Asshole.” You can’t help but dig your nails in his chest. It makes him hiss and you smile at him sweetly.

Theo’s hands inch closer and closer to where you don’t have any panties on. The way his face looks under the realization makes you burn again. He looks positively feral.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” With that he scoots you further back onto the soft bed while getting on as well, hovering over your body under the night sky, curtains all around you. Your dress rolls back down over your legs and that is the last straw for him.

With a hard tug of his hands, the delicate material loses against his strength and the dress is ripped almost all the way up only hanging on its collar around your neck.

“Finally.” He breaths while already kissing the exposed skin of your thighs. Grabing your knee and pushing it up, he opens your legs before his ravenous gaze and teases you with kisses all around the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

With his eyes holding yours, he sinks his face into your core like a hungry man that he is. His tongue is working you so deliciously, murmuring and groaning and moaning into you like a man obsessed. Your body already tightening up.

“I could kiss you and drink from you for all eternity, amore, but now I’m too hungry for you.”

Coming up to hover over your almost naked body, he starts his kisses under your breasts, slowly inching higher and higher. Finally sucking on one pebbled nipple, your moans fill your ears, pressure building between your legs. When he pushes up to his knees looking over you like he can’t get his fill, you can’t help but stare at him with open mouth, too. He’s carved like an ancient statue, except for his beautiful cock that looks… heavy… is the only word that comes to mind.

“You can close your mouth now, amore.” He throws your words from last night back at you.

Suddenly his hand comes under your back and he pulls you up to straddle him, his cock aligned with your core already and you can’t help but moan loudly from the sensation.

“When you are looking at me from above like this, it’s my favorite view in the whole world, princessa.” Impatiently you push yourself onto his cock and you can’t help the moan that escapes your mouth. But the sound he makes when you take him all the way in will forever be burned into your mind.

You hold on to his strong shoulders as you move on top of him, enjoying the sensations of him filling your pussy, his eyes burning patterns on your chest, face, his strong hand gripping your hip.

“Lord, the sounds you make. I’m not going to be able to forget those anytime soon.” His voice is raspy in your ear.

While you are lost in the clouds of bliss, he grabs both of your hands and holds them behind your back, changing the angle and causing you to arch your back, pushing your tits into his mouth.

As if floating on clouds, you feel the breeze pick up and see the thin curtains flying all around you, exposing you to the outside world, but you can’t focus on anything else, just the pleasure filling your soul.

The feeling of his cock so perfectly filling you, your wrists held behind your back with his hand, the floating curtains caressing your sensitive skin, his gaze worshipping you from below, your world shatters and you fall into your orgasm, trusting him to catch you and hold you through it.

He hugs you close when he feels your pussy clench and your body shivers subside, burying his face into your neck. You feel his short breaths, quiet growls and whimpers as he loses himself in you too.

You stay tightly entwined for a few moments, then he looks up at you and says:

“You are divine when you cum on top of me like that, principessa. I hope this is not the last time you give me the honors of seeing that look on your face, because I might be addicted already.”

I struggled a little bit with this one, but I still loved writing it. As always, thank you for reading, hope you liked it. 🖤

@wxnterwidow333 hope you are not crying now and thank you to everyone for the encouragement on the first part of the story. 🖤

If you want more: 🖤here🖤

Divider by me: @hereindreamlandpng

#harry potter fanfiction #drabble #theodore nott #hp fanfic #theo nott x reader #theo nott smut #smutty fanfiction #smut #slytherin boys #slytherin

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justalildazed · 12 days ago

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Bacon & Eggs

– A Quinn Hughes one shot –

Warnings: (18+) - A lil bit smutty, a lil bit fluffy, mentions of alcohol, all the usual adult nonsense.

A/N: I am still working my way up to writing bigger things, I just need to build my confidence up a little more so please be gentle. Constructive criticism always welcomed (just don't be an a**hole)

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The rain was bouncing off of the windows at a rapid rate as he worked his lips up your neck, jaw and eventually met with yours. Your head leaning back against the wall as he gripped your hair, pulling your head forward as you locked eyes. The room was dark, no lighting aside from the warm city glow outside as it was 3am. The usual time of seeing him, never once in the daylight. It was becoming a habit, the first time being a mistake that turned into this addiction of sorts. You began seeing him more frequently, mostly when either of you were drunk, high or in some other altered mind-state. The first night you met was in a dimly lit bar, as if like poetry, at 3am, when last orders were called. This seemed to be your time with him. No other hours reserved for the two of you than between 3-5am. You never stayed over at each other's places, never asked any questions about personal lives or goings on. It was purely a chemical attraction. You had just split up with your long-term boyfriend when you found yourself seated at the bar alone, feeling low and the girls having left hours ago. You were swirling the contents of your vodka around in the bottom of your glass much like the thoughts in your head. He sat beside you, calling the bartender over for a nightcap and had struck up a conversation somehow, before you knew it you were in the back of a taxi cab making-out with this handsome stranger.

He guided you over to the bed, your arms and legs wrapped around him tugging at his light blue shirt, his lips attached to any piece of your bare skin that was exposed. You let out a few moans as you managed to get his shirt unbuttoned and off of him, revealing his perfectly chiseled upper body. You knew very little about him but you knew he was a hockey player, you didn’t know if for an AHL or NHL team but you didn’t particularly care about the details. The only thing you cared about was how he made you feel when he was fucking you, touching you, kissing you - how he made you feel more than your ex ever did during the intimate moments. It was refreshing, addicting even.

“Quinn!” You yelp as he gets to one of your sensitive spots on your ribs, your body erupting in goosebumps.

“Fuck, sorry.” He pouted his lips and fluttered his lashes as you gripped lightly on his hair, pushing his head down in between your open legs and let out a moan as he began to tease you with his tongue. A sense of euphoria came whenever he was in between your legs, something no man had ever made you feel. Once he was happy that you were close enough he began to nip away at your thighs as he unbuckled his belt, taking off his trousers as if he had been starved of how you felt. Your eyes lit up and you propped yourself forward, leaning on your elbows and watching him stroke his cock as he gazed at you lying there, fully naked, all his for the night. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” His words breathy as he climbed on top of you, the butterflies in your stomach grew. You smirk, pulling him into a deep kiss as he slowly pushed his length inside of you, causing you to bite his lip gently between pants and whines. Your nails dug into his back with one hand and gripped his hair with another as he began to tease you by thrusting slowly. He snickered as he watched your face change as he pleasured you which only got him off more. “Quinn.” You almost threw your head back as he hit a certain spot that felt like sheer ecstasy, “Right there.”

That night turned out to be a different one from what you were used to, unsure if you both needed the extra time of companionship or just more touch than usual but you somehow ended up falling asleep intertwined with one another's naked bodies. You woke up to a horrendous alarm tone blaring from Quinn’s phone which made you bolt upright in an instant. “Jesus Christ.” You begin rubbing your eyes, feeling the mascara crumbling onto your cheeks as you adjust to the daylight pouring in his bedroom windows. You hear a groan coming from behind you and stirring beneath the sheets as he hits snooze, you turn to see his face smushed into his pillows, two arms tucked underneath them as if he was trying to cuddle something, anything. You look around the room, examining the contents of it and realising you had never actually been at his place in the daylight and your flight mode seemed to kick in. You hopped off the bed as quietly as you could manage, your bare feet meeting the cool wooden flooring as you scrambled to grab your clothing that was thrown across the floor, dresser and somehow, your panties on the lamp of the bedside table. You began getting dressed and heard him stir behind you once again, clearing his throat.

“You need to go so soon?” He questioned, propping his head up on his elbow, his torso exposed and tempting. You wanted nothing more than to fuck him one more time before you left, but this was already out of your comfort zone – seeing him in the daylight.

“Uh…” You wiggled your hips, pulling your jeans up and buttoning them. You stood frozen for a moment as he patted the luscious bed sheets, bearing nothing but a toothy smile and some morning wood.

He laughed the more you stayed silent, sitting himself up properly and pulling the bedsheets over him. “I don’t bite, damn.”

You furrowed your brow at his comment, mostly in confusion at his prior question but also because he did bite. And you liked it. “Well, actually… you kinda do, y’know, bite.” An awkward laugh came from your chest as you approached the bed, sitting on the side in just your jeans and your lacy pink bra. You had your top in your hand, unsure whether you should put it back on or he wanted a continuation from last night. “I thought you liked that?” He questioned, shuffling closer to you. You felt your cheeks warm, “I do, I just– I think I’m just a bit confused at what you’re asking me.”

“Well, you always seem to dash out of here so quickly, I guess I was hedging my bets in asking you to stay for breakfast.” He began scratching his beard, you could tell he was growing a bit embarrassed of the question now that you were giving him resistance on the initial offer.

“I just assumed that because you had an alarm set you might have plans, I thought it would be best if I left.” Your voice was low, quiet almost towards the last part of your sentence.

“Well, this is me saying that I wake up at the same time every day and I would like it… if you stayed for breakfast.” He seemed almost shy with his words, his voice hoarse and unsteady. He scanned around the room for a moment before meeting your eyes again, you fiddled with the label on your top before nodding your head in agreement. ‘Fuck it, why not? What’s one time? Why not?’ You thought to yourself.

“Okay.” Your response allowed his eyes to light up in a way you hadn’t seen. He hopped out of bed, grabbing his boxers and a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms.

You sat on the wooden bar stool at his kitchen island, adoring the view of downtown Vancouver out of the floor-to-ceiling windows. The rain had passed from last night and the sun was now out, drying the concrete as the cherry blossoms bloomed, lining the edges of the water. Smells of bacon and eggs frying, toast under the grill and coffee greeted your nostrils and made your mouth water. After two consecutive months fucking this man every other night at stupid o’clock, you felt it strange to see him in the morning, in his own space, doing something he loved. He was whistling a particular song you couldn’t quite make out but definitely knew as you felt your foot tapping along to the rhythm. You admired his toned back muscles and pale complexion as he attended to your food, grabbing different seasonings from a very fancy looking spice rack nestled next to the cooker.

“How do you take your coffee? Do you want a glass of orange juice, too?” He still seemed so unsure, nervous almost, in his questions as if he was trying to make a good impression.

“Just coffee is fine. Some creamer and no sugar, thanks.” You smiled, as he caught a glimpse of you over his shoulder. “You got it.” He grabbed the creamer out of the refrigerator, pouring just the right amount into your mug and spinning around on his heels to pass you it. You began to sip away as he plated up both your breakfasts, making sure to have the cutlery ready in his hands as he brought the two plates over.

“Thank you.” You turned to him with a kind smile tugging at your lips as you looked down at your plate. You noticed your eggs, sunny side up, laid out next to one another representing two eyes. One bacon strip placed down below as a smile and another bacon strip halved into two representing the eye brows you began to giggle and realised he was awaiting your reaction as you looked over to him.

“Good, huh?” He seemed so pleased with himself putting a smile on your face and you wanted to humour him.

“It’s cute, thank you.” You both began to eat the meal he had made and sip away at your coffee, getting to know one another more. It was weird at first, but in a way it was nice, more-so. Nice to finally get to know the man who had only gotten to know your body, how you liked to be touched and pleasured. Now he knew how you liked your coffee, your bacon and eggs. It wasn’t a lot, but it was definitely a start.

#quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes x reader #nhl imagine #quinn hughes imagine #i enjoyed writing this so i hope you enjoy reading

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radioactiverats · 3 months ago

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Mentor Starscream x reader!seeker (9/?)

Starscream has somehow… gotten you a new set of wings (don’t question it don’t question it). Your suffering at the hands of Megatron is the last straw, acting as the trigger point for Starscream’s first attempt to assassinate Megatron. It goes as well as you’d think. There is a cave involved.

It is 3am BUT one more ramble before my week of holidays end (sob sob)!!

—

The feeling that something is wrong stirs you back to the land of the living.

Your frame feels... off.

For some reason, you feel heavier than usual, and you struggle to make sense of the freshly pinging sensors in your... new set of wings.

You have a new set of wings.

You hear a voice - Knockout? - shouting in alarm as you scramble up with a clatter to inspect a set of wings that aren't yours. Not your paint. Not in a shape you recognised. Not yours, not yours, not yours - it feels so wrong to be bolted to someone else, someone you don’t know - where did these come from? The thought slams with dizzying force into your processor and you fall still, suddenly icy with terror. You're wearing a dead bot's wings. The realisation launches you into a blind panic. “Get them off!” You screech, vocaliser glitching. Any way you move, you can see them, feel them - had wings always been so heavy? Knockout’s servos on your freshly repaired, overly sensitive frame only drive you even further into a frenzy even as he’s trying to stop you from tearing at your wings - shouting into his comm over the cacophony of terror that rings through your processor. Just as you think you’re really going to lose it, you’re all at once bathed in the reassurance of a familiar EM field, which douses the worst of your panic. You slowly become aware of thrumming warmth around you, red and blue paint, a neon orange cockpit. Arms cradling you tightly, as if afraid you were going to fall apart, and the low croon of Vosian in your audials. Starscream.

You immediately latch onto him, greedily soaking in the comfort of his EM field. There’s no doubt you’re making a mess of his frame with coolant and energon but Starscream pays it no mind. He pulls you onto his lap, a large servo cupping the back of your helm to securely tuck your faceplate into his neck as you shudder against him, frame wracked with sobs.

“No more pain,” Starscream murmurs, and you allow yourself to be soothed by the high trills and clicks of your native tongue. Comfort doesn’t last long, though - you involuntarily press closer to Starscream, and that tiny movement sends a sense of wrongness shooting through your frame, clumsy with a heaviness you’re not used to - reminding you all over again that you have someone else’s wings.

“It feels wrong,” You hiccup, “My wings - what happened to my wings-?”

Starscream’s arms tighten around you.

“I promised you would fly again,” He murmurs. “These are your wings now.”

“B-but how?”

You go still in his grasp, stiff as a board. “Who?”

The servo stroking your helm stills.

The few nanokliks where you hold your breath, awaiting his answer, are tortuous.

“…Long gone.”

You pull back to look at him properly. Worry twists his sharp features, but his optics hold yours steadily.

Your servos dig into his arms. “Promise?”

Behind you, you don’t see Knockout turn away to hide the expression on his faceplate. One of you is accustomed to lying, and it’s not Knockout.

Starscream’s answering rasp is gentle as it is hypnotic.

“…Promise.”

You have no reason not to trust him.

——

Everything after you leave Knockout’s med bay feels strangely normal. There is no ‘aftermath’, no dramatic change to the status quo. You are merely another statistic in Megatron’s ever-growing list of cruel deeds.

The only difference is that Starscream is strangely jumpy. He’s constantly tense, on high alert every time you hear pedesteps outside your shared habsuite - deliberately evasive, and somehow, you see even less of him than you usually do.

No one gives you a hard time, either. It’s all so weirdly normal that you’re more or less prepared to shrug it off, pass it off as another busy period - perhaps Megatron is planning another offensive. The ghostly pains that flash through your frame aren’t that bad, and it wouldn’t be the first time you barely get to see Starscream, anyway.

That is, until you’re circling the grassy plain in your altmode one evening, prepared to finish your training for the day. You’d been spending more time trying to get used to your new wings - broader wingspan, greater speed - flying feels better than ever, but from high above the ground, you spot him next to your landing pad. Waiting for you.

You land, precisely, perfectly, the way he taught you. You hope he’s pleased - but instead of the approval you hoped for, there’s something strange in his expression as he watches you.

“Listen carefully,” Starscream rasps. His frame is still, even as a gust of wind ruffles the Terran grass around you. “Go to these coordinates. Do not let yourself be found at any cost.”

You hadn’t wanted to admit it for a while, but he’s frightening you.

“Sir?”

Starscream’s optics are strangely bright, glittering with an unsettling sheen.

“Now.”

You want to argue. Want to insist he tell you what’s been eating away at him for countless solar cycles. But the way he looks at you is almost pleading. Needing you to play your part in whatever he’s planned. Even as you take to the air, his optics never leave yours. His severe posture, his unreadable expression, are burned into your processor as you speed to the coordinates he’s given you, even as you can’t shake the unsettling feeling.

The coordinates he’s given you lead to energon mine, a cave system so far off the grid for both Terrans and Cybertronians alike that you actually feel relatively secure being here. How had Starscream even known about this location? Another thought springs unbidden to your processor.

Had he been keeping this location from Megatron?

A prickling feeling of unease crawls up your spinal strut. I mean, you know this is not normal. None of this has ever been normal. But a cave? Which was starting to feel more and more like a hideout?

Solar cycles pass. You desperately try to keep yourself from succumbing to panic by tasking yourself to dig raw energon from the rocky walls of the cave, a repetitive activity that keeps you just the least bit grounded. You should never have left Starscream alone. Surely he would come for you. Surely he was okay.

You get your answer a few joors later in the form of an explosive comm. Knockout’s voice blasts tersely into your audials.

“-treason. Failed attempt to assassinate Megatron. Stand by.”

Suddenly, the abundance of energon you’d dug out seemed lacking for the imminent disaster.

Treason?

There was no way. There was no way Starscream would go to such lengths - their was no way he had tried to -

Had he?

The acrid smell of spilt energon and the screaming roar of engines on full speed give you your answer.

Knockout staggers into view as he more or less drags Starscream’s limp frame into the cave. You can barely recognise your commander with the amount of energon that coats his battered frame, and you choke back a sob as you stumble forwards to meet them.

“Megatron knew,” Knockout says through gritted denta, as he lowers Starscream to the ground. “Starscream tried to - he wanted to take over. But Soundwave found out.”

Knockout’s yanking an assortment of medical tools from his subspace, tools clattering across the cold floor.

“His null ray may as well have been useless because Megatron saw it coming. But he decided to repay Starscream in kind.” The smoking hole in Starscream’s chassis tells you all you need to know.

“These are all the tools I can spare without drawing suspicion. As of now, Megatron thinks that Starscream managed to get away from base, but has sustained life-threatening injuries in the process and therefore… will succumb sooner or later.”

The look he gives you is apologetic, knowing, and regretful all at once. “My intake is sealed, cadet,” He says.

“I hope we meet again, if Primus wills it.”

With a squeal of tires, Knockout is gone.

That leaves only you and Starscream. Starscream, who has a gaping hole in his chassis and is losing energon fast.

“Oh, frag,” You chant, throwing yourself at Knockout’s medical supplies, “Frag, frag, frag - ”

Starscream twitches, a pained frown on his faceplate - had he heard that?

“Stay with me,” You mutter, as you finally find the tool you’re looking for. Thank Primus for Ratchet. Factions be damned, you’ll send him a fragging gift basket if Starscream pulls through. Knockout had left you a jar of nanites - you frantically dump all of them into the jagged hole that mars Starscream’s chassis, so dangerously close to his spark - and pray that his self-repairing mechanisms kick into gear as you get to work.

By some miracle, his frame doesn’t reject your attempts to fix him - but it’s only joors later that you dare to hope that he’ll make it, after all. The gaping hole left by Megatron’s cannon looks better, if you can call it that - no longer as devastating now that you’ve soldered wires and fuel lines back together, waiting for mesh to knit itself together again. Now, you just need him to wake up because the rapidly growing pool of energon beneath him isn’t doing your nerves any favours and he had to be online to ingest the energon you’d dug out, replenish his drained systems.

Exhausted, you desperately wave a chunk of raw energon in front of his faceplate.

“Sir. Sir, it’s me. Wake up!”

You put it down to the chunk of energon, but by some divine intervention, Starscream’s systems do sputter to life immediately after - he immediately groans when the pain inevitably hits, but it’s much more manageable compared to the last memory stored in his processor. Megatron raising his cannon, optics cold. Searing heat in his chassis before the explosion of agony, crumpling to the ground, energon pouring over his servos, restraints, unforgiving blows, pain, pain, pain - “Sir!”

His optics snap open.

Your faceplate above his, frantic. It’s you. You’re safe. He’s not there anymore.

“Where - ?”

“The coordinates you gave me.” Starscream can see that you’re trying incredibly hard to keep it together, plates drawn tight and frame quivering. There’s a streak of energon on your faceplate - his? Before he can think, he’s reaching a trembling servo up to cup your faceplate, thumb stroking over your cheek. “It’s been a few solar cycles.”

Coolant - is that coolant dripping down your faceplate? You lean into his servo, unable to hold back an ex-vent of relief at the warmth of his frame - proof that he’s still alive.

“I’m here,” He rumbles, as if you’re the one who needs reassuring, as if he’s not the one with a smoking hole in his chassis. “Told you I wouldn’t be so easy to get rid of, didn’t I?”

A lame attempt at normalcy, but it seems to work - you huff out a weak laugh, shaking your helm as you reach for a roll of bandages.

“I just welded these,” You say. “We don’t have Knockout anymore, so it’s probably better to keep your welds bandaged while they’re fresh.”

Ah. That was another question that had been brewing in Starscream’s processor as he slowly came back online. Knockout had fixed the hole in his chassis, right? He was the only one who had the knowledge to do so - and yet, glancing around the cave, bandages and medical tools were strewn haphazardly around, as if they’d been left in a hurry. Knockout’s perfectionist streak would never have allowed that. There’s something he’s missing here. His optics slide to you, your glossa poking out and faceplate furrowed in concentration as you wrap his arm.

With a critical eye, Starscream watches you work for a few kliks. “When did your bandaging get to be passably neat?”

You freeze, mid-wrap.

Well. He’s in no condition to whoop your aft. You might as well come clean, since you’re more or less on your own side right now.

“I asked Ratchet to teach me,” You mutter.

Starscream stiffens.

“…The Autobot medic?”

Oh boy.

“The one and only.”

“How-? You can’t have - oh.”

Abruptly, Starscream falls silent. Rendering him speechless is no easy task, but you’re not sure whether this is the right time for celebration.

“That was what you were doing.”

You resolutely do not meet his optics, stubbornly continuing to bandage his welds.

Too weak to hide it, his EM field tells you all you need to know, anyway.

Static distorts his vocaliser as his voice rises in a screech. “How could you be so reckless?”

Even while prone and severely injured, it seems that the idea of you in danger is enough to spur him back to life. Maybe you should have recounted your misadventures to him earlier.

“And for what?” Starscream continues to rant. “What if they’d kept you captive? What if they tortured you? Did you even think about what happens to prisoners of war - ”

“It worth it,” You interrupt, “because it was for you.”

Silence descends abruptly upon you both.

You chance a look at Starscream - his intake is hanging open, optics wide. It would be funny, if it weren’t for the severe injuries and the whole cave and treason situation.

…Okay, so maybe it is a little bit funny. Meanwhile, Starscream’s systems have more or less gone haywire - you hear the telltale sound of a reboot.

Him?

You -

You got yourself captured -

For him.

For - had you been anticipating this?

He’d never questioned how you managed to repair him every time, when all the puzzle pieces were right in front of him.

Yet another thing he had failed to factor in.

…Did you really care that much? Was he really worth so much to you?

He’s definitely spiralling. Worriedly, you wave a servo in front of his faceplate.

“Hello? Earth to Commander Starscream.”

Starscream’s optics cycle and narrow in, razor-sharp, onto your faceplate.

You brace yourself for another scolding - but unexpectedly, just when you think he’s about to bust a fuel line, a tired ex-vent is all that leaves him.

“I told you I’d find out eventually.”

You remain silent, unsure what he wants to hear from you.

“The truth, cadet,” Starscream says, optics narrowed. Almost as if he could hear your thoughts - then again, he’d always been able to read you easily.

“You did the repairs? All by yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Because Ratchet taught you?”

“…Yes.”

“Because you snuck off to learn how to do so.”

The last one sounds more like a statement than a question, but you defiantly lift your chin, meeting his optics to answer anyway.

“Yes.”

Come what may, you need him to know you don’t regret your decision. Today has simply proved to you that your gamble had paid off.

After a moment, Starscream ex-vents, but reaches a servo out to you - you help him sit up, leaning against a rock, and his servos gently curl around your wrist to pull you into a delicate embrace.

“One day I’m going to have a spark attack if you keep worrying me like that,” He scolds, but it’s gentle. Even now, worrying about you, as if he’s not the one who’s grievously injured right now.

You mash your faceplate against his good shoulder. Silence is the best option right now, you think. The second-best option is to make sure Starscream fuels up on enough energon to finish self-repairs, and you are a mech of many talents, so you grope blindly around for a chunk of raw energon and shove it in the general direction of Starscream’s intake.

Muffled sounds of indignant outrage tell you you’ve probably hit your mark. Whether out of necessity or to humour you, Starscream accepts it anyway.

The colour of his frame is looking much better, but he’ll need a few solar cycles at least to regain full functionality.

When you meet Starscream’s optics again, you know that you’re both thinking the same thing - you’ve bought yourselves precious time to consider your next steps.

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#transformers #maccadam #transformers x reader #starscream x reader #starscream #tf starscream #Cadet AU

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bunnliix · 10 months ago

Text

When Eight Becomes Nine - Chapter Eleven

I may have taken my sweet time writing this, but in my defense, the Felix smut was what my brain wanted to write first, and then life got to me and made me really busy. And here I am, finishing this fic at 3am in the morning lol. But have fun with the chaos of this fic hehe.

Pairing: Ateez x 9th member!reader Summary: We see the aftermath and chaos of the company's decision, plus y/n gets some much needed comfort. Oh, and a reveal! wc: 1.8k AU: a/b/o Genre: Fluff/Angst warnings: fighting and slapping, threats, angst, slut-shaming and derogatory talk towards y/n, use of the words slut,pussy, whore, etc., lots of misogyny in this chapter folks, and a bunch of like derogatory talk about omegas that is absolutely misogynistic and sexist, lots of cursing, implications that people would take advantage of others, disassociating kinda, shitty people being called the names they deserve, this should be everything masterlist

The fighting went on, it seemingly would never end as insults and angry words kept being thrown back and forth. Ateez and their management yelled back and forth over who had the decision making power over the new member, and for the most part, the auditionees just watched it all happen. What could they do? Nothing. They were just the pawns in the game, really, if one thought about it.

“You said we could have the ability to pick the final member out of that group! We don’t want anyone but y/n!” Wooyoung yelled, getting in the face of one of the staff members, having to be pulled away by Mingi and Yunho.

“I will take all of my members, and we’ll leave KQ, if you continue to insist on your pick for the ninth member. I am not above leaving. We,” Hongjoong said as he gestured to the rest of Ateez, “are not above leaving. I don’t think you want to test how far you can push us before we push back.” He said, his words a thinly veiled threat.

“Who would take you? They don’t want an established group.” The staff member who started all of this stated.

“I can think of a few companies who would gladly take us. You forget we’re a group that has a very large international audience, which is what companies want nowadays.” Hongjoong said, almost too calmly.

“We’ll leave, take everything we can with us, and we’ll go start somewhere else. Atiny will follow us, they like us, not you.” Hongjoong spelled it out for the staff members, who quickly realized that they might want to back down on this.

“God, is your pussy really that great that they’ll go to bat for you like this? Well, I guess a slut like you knows how to please, honestly that’s all omega’s are good for, anyways. Just a quick fuck, nothing more.” She heard the voice speak again, and this time it was louder, since she saw some of the other auditionees’ heads turn. She would have turned to look at who it was, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of the idols across the table.

It was apparent to the others, though not to the y/n nor the person behind her, that not only had the other auditionees’ heard those words, but so had a member of the group. Before anyone could process the idol’s actions, Jongho had launched himself across the room and tackled whoever had been sitting behind her, the two landing on the floor with a thump. This stopped any fighting in its tracks.

“You want to say that again?” Jongho growled as he pinned the other person to the floor, teeth bared.

“Y-You heard me.” They said, a stutter appearing as they tried to mask any fear of the beta on top of them.

“I would bet that you’re also the person who leaked those pictures to Dispatch. Since you’re so intent on being jealous that you weren’t picked.” The maknae idol deduced.

“And if I did? What are you going to do about it?” They taunted him, somehow overcoming their fear.

“Jongho, get off of him. Now.” Hongjoong ordered, moving over to where the maknae was.

“No.”

“Jongho, now.”

“He was telling lies to y/n. Telling her that she and omegas were only good for a quick fuck, and that we were only fighting for her because she was good in bed. His words were more vulgar, and I won’t repeat them.” Jongho said, never looking away from the target of his rage.

“It’s not a lie. Omegas are only good for fucking, that’s it. That’s their purpose in life, is to be good little broodmares for betas and alphas. Besides, what talent does she have, she’s barely done anything while we’ve been here, and has only monopolized the attention of all of you.” They spat out, glaring over at y/n before their view of her was replaced with Mingi.

Hongjoong turned to look at the staff and managers with a murderous look on his face. They really wanted someone like this, to become part of Ateez? “You wanted a disgusting piece of shit like this, to become a member of Ateez? Someone who will look down on his fellow members because of their subgender? You were going to let someone like this interact with Atiny, and based on his words, probably abuse power as an idol to take advantage of them?” He raged, his voice becoming increasingly louder until he was shouting at them.

The staff tried to stammer out excuses, claiming they knew nothing of the beta’s opinions. It was clear to everyone that none of the idols believed the words coming out of their managers’ mouths, though to his credit, their main manager didn’t say anything, just sat down and stayed quiet while the others talked out of their asses. In return for his silence, he received disappointed looks from the eight idols, half of whom were still filled with rage against the beta and the others.

Wooyoung rushed over to y/n’s side once the shock and anger of the situation was pushed aside in favor of concern for his omega baby. Placing his hands on her shoulders to turn her to face him, as she still spaced out.

“Baby omega, c’mon come look at me,” he pleaded. “It’s okay, so come back to me, to us.”

His words, plus his scent of flowers and cinnamon turning slightly burnt as he worried, brought y/n back to the present. She looked over at the other omega, whose face was filled with worry.

“Wooyoung-ssi?” She asked, still a bit dazed from her intense focus on what was now just an empty spot in the room.

“Hi baby omega, how are you feeling?” He asked her, as the others looked over at the two of them.

“God, I knew it from the moment that the hag of an omega dragged you away, that you were an attention whore.” The beta cut in, making everyone’s heads’ snap to him.

Y/n’s face dropped as she realized who exactly said that, but she couldn’t get a word in before the sound of a slap rang out. Mingi had stepped forward, kneeling down and slapping the beta’s cheek so hard that a bruise had already started to form.

“Aaron, why are you like this? You were so nice to me.” Y/n asked, confused.

“Because you’ve done nothing to deserve anything you’ve gotten here. I’ve worked my ass off for years, and I’ve been passed over in favor of omegas. Because of your kind, I can’t get anything, omegas are always the ones chosen for things, never betas. I deserve this. I’m way more talented than you are, and I’m not a fucking whore who sleeps her way into the team. I don’t monopolize Ateez’s attention, not like you have. You got private sessions with San and Yunho, I saw it. And fuck it was amazing to see how much hate you’re still getting for it. You should just go back home, y’know, and be the little omega housewife, because that’s all you’re good for.” Aaron goes off on a rant, inadvertently revealing that he was the one that leaked the photos to Dispatch.

The anger in the room was palpable, and y/n wasn’t the only one to shrink in on herself because of it. Wooyoung held her tighter, his arms snaking around her to pull her closer, as the two of them watched the others crowd around the three on the floor, as they noticed that the staff ushered the other auditionees out of the conference room.

“So, you’re the one who put my members’ careers at risk, and put them in the middle of a scandal? You’re the one who made my members worried and stressed because you’re jealous that another person, that wasn’t you, caught our eye? Y’know, it's fitting that it’s you. You look as pathetic as you actually are. Only someone who knows they’re inadequate stoops so low as to bring others down to their level. You’re passed over in favor of omegas, because they’re obviously better than you. And y/n is one of those omegas.” Hongjoong said, his words filled with condescension towards Aaron. “Say goodbye to any chance of making it in the industry, here or back home. Word gets around about bad people.” The captain finished.

Seonghwa turned to the staff that remained in the room. “If you don’t get security here within the next few minutes, and make sure he’s escorted back to his room so he can pack up and then driven to the airport to fly back to whatever dump he’s from, we will take it into our hands. I don’t think you want the media, or Atiny, knowing that you were going to let someone who tried to ruin two members of Ateez, into the group. Nor will the police be happy if they find out that they were deceived, if any of you knew about what he had done, to not only San and Yunho, but to an innocent person in all of this.”

Yeosang, normally not one to be overly touchy feely when things are stressful, moved over to Wooyoung and y/n, in need of comfort from his omega friend. Wooyoung immediately noticed and pulled the alpha close, the now trio taking comfort in one another. The two men silently communicated, both hoping that management would fail in the task given to them, so that the stain on the floor would be dragged out by police instead. They were disappointed when security rushed into the room, and once Jongho had pulled away from the beta, the team of security guards led the disgraced auditionee out of the conference room, and away from the lives of the now nine members of Ateez.

Hongjoong was quick to collect the rest of the group, including y/n, and bid goodbye to the staff members, not sparing them another glace as he led his group out into the hallway. Y/n was pushed into the middle of their protective circle, with Seonghwa and Wooyoung on either side, and Mingi behind the trio to bring up the rear as the others surrounded the trio of omegas. The group of nine were led to the practice room, as it was the easiest and quickest place to regroup.

Once everyone was settled in the room, most sprawled out on the floor, including y/n whose head was laid in Yeosang’s lap as the man ran his hands through her hair, silence settled over the group as everyone processed what had just occurred. That silence lasted until the youngest omega shot up, almost hitting Yeosang’s chin, as she realized exactly what the group had been fighting for in the first place.

“Wait. You want me to be the ninth member of Ateez?!” She shouted out, in complete shock.

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takimakiiiii · 4 months ago

Text

The Adventures of Loverboy and Twinkle Toes ~

lando norris x driver!female & platonic!grid x reader

angst, fluff, more angst with a dash of extra angst + established relationship + breakup

¡happy ending! dw, i’m not that mean

TW: swearing/profanity, bullying

WC: around 1k-ish?

disclaimer!: not all of these stats are accurate and the timeline doesn’t stick to the 2019 as it had to change for the story also the drivers had to be shuffled around for the story to make sense. basically it’s a big of a mess ALSO THERE IS USE OF Y/N IN THIS FIC

a/n: this has been sitting in my notes app for the last few month cuz i got bored one night at 3am

ALSO THE STARTING IS SO CHEESY SO LIKE BARE WITH ME IT GETS BETTER I SWEAR 😭

also with the driving parts it’s so bad okay I don’t even know what I’m talking and so pls don’t hate on me

sorry if it’s so bad I just wanted to finally post this so it doesn’t die w me in my notes app

<—————————————————————————————————>

You first met Lando Norris at the ripe age of 8 and my god was he an asshole. A constant pain in the ass, he attended the same private British school you did in Bristol, an academy for only the brightest and well, richest in the country.

Lando Norris’s family was a wealthy and famous one too, it wasn’t a secret. Yours, on the other hand wasn’t, and that too wasn’t much of a secret either. You’d gotten a scholarship to attend the academy after winning a competition. And from the minute you stepped into the school Lando Norris never failed to make you feel like you didn’t belong there.

You came from a line of mechanics and at a young age your Father got you into karting. And it was clear you had a talent for it.

Well as expected, it didn’t sit well with Lando, you were the only girl. It didn’t sit well with any of the boys who you karted with. That brought along of other things too, you were treated like a boy, something that you’d come to expect whenever you stepped onto the track. The boys would call you horrible names, something such a young girl shouldn’t be hearing, they’d belittle your wins and make you feel like shit.

You were a girl who’d fallen for a boy’s sport.

Something Lando would constantly remind you over and over again - that you didn’t belong there. Not at the fancy rich academy and definitely not on the race track. Only to make matters worse, he was incredible at karting. By the time you were both seniors at the academy he was already well on his way to the glory of F1.

Yet somehow you both were always the ones battling in that final lap, perhaps that’s what made him hate you so much was because you offered something no one else could: competition.

“Hey Twinkle Toes, you’ve got balls coming back onto the track after what you pulled last time.” a voice cut through the silence of the garage.

That same voice that had been annoying you for years on end, snapped you from your train of thought. You looked up and saw Lando pulling his gloves on, looking down on you as you sat on the steps of the garage. Something inside you began to tick, like a bomb about to go off.

He was referring to your last competition in which you’d pushed him off the track, unintentionally of course but he didn’t see it that way. He’d had a good yell at you afterwards in front of everyone, embarrassing you in front of all the other boys too. You clenched your fists as you stood up, yet his height was unmatched as you glared up at him. You hoped your face was able to match up the words that were about to leave your mouth.

“Yeah? Well at least I have balls dipshit.” you retorted angrily as you picked your helmet up from the stairs.

You turned around and he was now closer, a few mere centimetres away from your face. You nearly caught yourself jumping in surprise but managed to keep a collected face as he spoke.

“If you try that again today you’re going to wish you never stepped foot onto that track. Got it, Twinkle Toes?” his voice was laced with poison as he stared straight down at you. You stared back into his deep green eyes that seemed to glint with a harshness you’d grown to hate. You poked your inner cheek as you bit back an insult, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.

“Whatever you say, Loverboy.” you replied with a humorous chuckle as you walked past him. You could basically feel the anger radiating off him as you exited the garage, heading in the direction of the track as your pulled your helmet on.

<—————————————————————————————————>

“What? Do you think you’re better at karting than me?” Lando asked as he lowered himself to your level, you were still sitting at your desk. His hands were down on the wooden table as he glowered down at you. Class had just finished for lunch and to explain it briefly - Lando wasn’t happy how the race had ended that weekend.

“I don’t think I’m better than you, Lando Norris. I know I am. So why don’t you stop being such a dramatic prick and leave me alone.” you shot back with a smile, knowing that would piss him off. You picked up your books and stood up, he did the same, now towering over you once again. You could feel his eyes on you as you pulled your bag off the chair.

“You’re so full of yourself, you don’t belong here Twinkle Toes, you never have and you never will. You’re a fucking outsider.” he replied, you swallowed hard, letting out a shaky breath. You knew you shouldn’t take his dumb remarks to heart but the words would often eat you alive because deep down you knew he was right. Surrounded by all these rich kids with their rich parents, compared to them you were absolutely nothing.

“Fuck you, Norris.” you spat, inhaling slowly, looking away so he couldn’t see the tears welling up in your eyes.

“Go cry about it.”

And that’s how you found yourself sobbing in the bathrooms during lunch.

You could hear hushed whispers outside of the stall as other girls walked in and out of the bathroom. You knew they could hear you crying, yet none of them had the decency to even ask if you were okay. Rich British people were just like that, you guessed as you wiped your face with the back of your hand.

“Is someone crying in there?” a girls voice whispered in a hushed tone outside of the stall, you could see two pairs of black shoes and white socks from underneath the door.

“Yeah. I think it’s-“ the other girl replied, voice dropping low out of earshot. There were more hushed whispers before you heard one last remark.

“He’s such an asshole.”

That, you could agree on.

There was a moment of silence before a gentle knock came through from the other side of the door. Your heart jumped in your chest as you stared at the stall door, the girls on the other side still unknown.

“Hey girl? You okay in there?” one of the girls asked. You weren’t sure how to answer so you got to your feet and slowly unlocked the stall door. It swung open to reveal two girls, one a tall sun kissed girl with beautiful braids. The other, a pretty asian girl you recognised from French class, her name was Lisa or something.

“Hi.” you finally said. There was a long dreading moment of silence as you waited for them to laugh in your face but it didn’t come.

“It was what’s his name, Lanky Norris or something, right? He likes to pick you on, doesn’t he?” the tall girl asked, you instantly liked her. You let out a laugh through tears, the two girls smiled, success clear on their faces.

“Yeah.” you nodded, wiping your face for any stray tears that still lingered on your cheeks.

“He’s so annoying, the only reason he’s here is because his Daddy’s rich, ya know?” she grimaced as she crossed her arms.

“You’re also here because of your Daddy’s money, Sandy.” Lisa reminded her with a gentle nudge, you let out a laugh at Sandy’s frown.

“Okay, calm your farm, girl. I’m trying to insult him to make our new friend here feel better.” she shot back, throwing an incredulous look your way as she shook her head.

Lisa held her hands up in defence with a grin on her face.

“Okay, okay. Well, Y/N, let’s get you out of here and get you something to eat.” she suggested. The two girls pulled you out from the bathroom stall and you left the bathroom with two new friends and a smile.

<—————————————————————————————————>

Lando had heard the rumours going around, two popular girls he wasn’t a big fan of had found you in the girl’s bathroom crying. He knew he was the one at fault for that, Lando knew you weren’t as strong as you came off to be. But he always let his pride and selfishness take over because the truth was you were right, you were better than him. And he knew it too.

And that’s what pissed him off the most is that you were and would always be better than him. Not only at karting, in school and everything else too.

He guessed he owed you an apology, the hard truth was that he sort of admired your strength, you weren’t as strong as you came off to be because you were much more stronger. He’d seen you be treated badly by most of the other boys on the track, but he was too much of a coward to stick up for you because that would mean his feelings for you would be obvious. If only you knew-

“What do you want, Norris?”

He stopped in his tracks oblivious to the fact that he’s stopped right next to your locker. His palms instantly became clammy like they did each time he saw you as he attempted to find his words that had gotten caught in his throat.

“I didn’t- I mean- “ he stumbled on his words, mentally cursing himself as he made a fool of himself in front of you.

You let out a scoff as you shut your locker door with a loud SLAM, gaining the attention of other students who lingered around, their eyes floating toward you both. Lando flinched from the sound, becoming aware of the surrounding eyes.

“Save it. Your words mean nothing but shit to me.” you spat angrily.

Lando stood defeated as he watched you walk away. His heart was beating loudly in his ears, his mind was telling him to do something, but what? He didn’t know.

“I’M SORRY!” he yelled at the top of his voice before he lost the courage to do anything at all. Everyone in the hallway stopped to stare at him. If people hadn’t been interested, they sure were now. A scarlet red hue appeared across his face as you slowly turned and walked up to him, a giant grin on your face.

“What’d you say? I don’t think I heard it the first time?” you held your hand to your ear, propping up on your heels. He let out a sigh, you could be a big pain in the ass when you wanted to be. Yet he could still fell his heart beating ever so loudly in his chest.

“I’m sorry.” he mumbled, aware of all the eyes now watching you both.

“Didn’t catch that, wanna repeat it one more time?” you asked, a smile pulling at your lips as you leaned closer which only made his face redder.

“Fine. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said all those thing. It was dumb and fucking stupid. You do belong here, hell you’re probably the only one who does, you didn’t use your parents money to get here unlike the rest of us. So, I’m sorry. You don’t deserve all of the shit I’ve put you through the last few years.”

You pulled away, staring him in the eyes you nodded. A silent thank you.

“It’s alright, Norris. It’s no secret i’m better than you anyways.” you chimed with a laugh. Lando felt his heart flutter as your laugh echoed through the hallway.

“C’mon, we have English class.” you turned on your heel and that’s all it took for Lando to follow after.

<—————————————————————————————————>

School passed in a quick intense blur as both you and Lando graduated in no time. A couple months after becoming close friends you’d gotten together, a bit of a shock to everyone at school who’d only ever seen you fighting before. Especially Lisa and Sandy, whom you were still close with despite your busy schedule now.

Your relationship with Lando was going great, both of you had slowly moved from the ranks of F4 to F3 to F2 and now you were both at the age of 19 soon to make your F1 debuts.

Lando had signed with McLaren, a team he’d had close ties with ever since he was a teenager his father was a close associate with Zak Brown. Lando alongside Carlos Sainz were to be the 2019 McLaren team.

You, on the other hand had signed with Ferrari, a big dream ever since you were a young kid. You were going to be driving with Charles Leclerc, a guy who was like a god to your family. You’d be driving alongside some of the greatest drivers of all time, Lewis Hamilton, Max Verstappen, Fernando Alonso and many more.

It was no secret that you were dating Lando, most of the public seemed to take it well and the media weren’t too concerned with trying to pry into your relationship. One thing you were thankful for. Yet you were oblivious to the fact that it might change once everything started in F1.

You knew with Formula 1 more obstacles would come your way and attempt to break you and Lando’s relationship, you just hoped it would be enough to stand it all.

“Hey love? You alright?” Lando’s voice sailed across the living room of your parents’ house from the kitchen. Your silence when he asked a question prompted him to check if you were okay.

“Yep.” you quickly replied, laughing when Lando poked his head from around the corner for the sole purpose to raise his eyebrows at you.

“You sure? Wanna talk about it?” he offered, walking over to you and joining you on the couch. You smiled as you pressed up against him, pecking him gently on his cheek.

“Just thinking about what it’ll be when the season starts.” you told him as he wrapped his arms around you, allowing you to lean against him. His touch allowing a sense of peacefulness in the moment making you believe it would be okay.

“Me too. It’s kinda of scary isn’t it? Everything we dreamt of is coming true.” Lando mused as he leant his head down against yours. You let out a gentle exhale, “Yeah.”

There was a long moment of calm silence as you both sat there in the comfort of one another. Lando drew circles on your palm with his fingers as you closed your eyes.

“But. . .?” Lando offered, looking down at you with a soft smile. You chuckled, “You know me so well.” you grinned as you nestled your face in the crook of his neck.

“What’s wrong, love?” he asked.

You let out another sigh as you pulled away facing the tv that was playing FRIENDS.

“It’s nothing, really. I’m just scared of what might happen to. . . us. You know? I’ve seen what can happen to couples when their lives are shoved into the spotlight.” you held your breath as you looked up at him, awaiting his reaction.

He gently rested his head on yours again, relieving the tightness inside you.

“That’s not going to happen to us, I promise, Twinkle Toes. I trust you, I trust us. I always have. Whatever happens we’ll get through it together” he assured you with such certainty it nearly made you believe him. You smiled, he always managed to make your heart flutter no matter how long you’d been together. The chemistry had managed to continue after all these years was unmatched.

“I love you, Loverboy.”

“Love you more, Twinkle Toes.”

<—————————————————————————————————>

“ITS LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO.”

Your heart jumped inside your chest as you hit the accelerator, the car moving forward to your command. It almost didn’t seem real, the loud cheers of the people in the grandstands were one to rival a concert.

It was the same exhilarating feeling each time you raced, pressure but nonetheless excitement resting on your shoulders. The first few laps went by smoothly, you were in P12 after beginning in P14 after qualifying. Not too bad if you could say so yourself.

Soon enough you found yourself in the second last lap, you were currently in P6 after a spinning out from Daniel Ric took out three other drivers. The commotion after that had lasted quite a while as everyone was forced to wait. But the race still continued, a certain McLaren was on your tail as you both fought for P6. You were struggling to keep Lando at bay, defence was never one of your strengths. In this case it proved to be a big liability.

The waving checkered flag came around in no time as you and Lando crossed the finish line half a second apart.

“Who’s pole?” you asked your radio engineer as you pulled off the race track, loud cheers greeting you as you stopped the car.

“Hamilton, P1, Verstappen P2 and Leclerc P3.” your radio engineer replied.

“Sweet, that’s great for Charles.” you replied, “Good job guys, P6, that’s not half bad.”

<—————————————————————————————————>

The 2019 Championship went by in a quick exhilarating blur. And so did 2020, 2021 and 2022. Covid posed a problem for a while but everyone managed. Lando and you had been stuck at home focusing on other things, he with his Twitch channel and you on your own things.

Maybe you chose to ignore it, too focused on your career to pay attention to the cracks that had begun to surface in you and Lando’s relationship.

So now here you were in off-season awaiting 2023. Both unsure of what to do with each other’s time after being away from one another for so long.

“Hey, love? You going to come sit down and eat?” Lando’s voice called from the kitchen table. You’d moved in together in an apartment in Monaco not long after your first F1 season. A sense of hopelessness tainted his words, one you chose to ignore.

“Yep! Give me like one second!” you yelled back from your bedroom. You knew you had to stop pretending everything was fine, it clearly wasn’t and you both knew it too.

It was the time and the media at fault, something you would constantly tell yourself over and over again. Yet if you really thought about it you could only really blame yourself. There was no use in blaming all of those other things if it was just the two of you in the relationship.

You got up and walked into the dining room, smiling softly upon seeing Lando sitting down already. But the smile wasn’t reciprocated on his face and the one on yours had vanished by the moment you got to the table.

“Y/N, I think we need to talk.” he said gently, looking up at you. You let out a breath one you hadn’t noticed you were holding, nodding as you replied. “Yeah.” you breathed, the shakiness in your voice evident.

You took a seat across from him and awaited for everything to spill out.

“What’s been happening? What happened to us?” his simple words hung in silence as you found your own.

“I don’t - I don’t know.” you admitted, unable to meet his eyes that you knew were filled with disappointment, you stared down at the plate in front of you.

“Then why haven’t we tried to fix it? Is this it? Do you not want to be with me anymore?” he asked, his voice breaking as he looked at you helplessly for your answer. Your heart jumped as you looked up at him, his face breaking your heart as they searched your eyes for an answer.

“No! Lando, of course I want to be with you, I just- I’m scared.” you inhaled, tears stinging the corner of your eyes. Your heart was thumping loud in your chest as you closed your eyes.

“Scared of what?” Lando asked, reaching his hand across the table to hold yours. You took another breath in. . . and the words slipped out.

“They want me to take your seat at McLaren.”

“What?”

“No- It’s not what it sounds like, I promise. I just found out, I swear. I was going to tell you when they told me but I-” you stammered as you searched to find some way to salvage from the damage that was now done.

“When did you find out?” Lando asked, his hand had now retracted from holding yours and now at his side. Your lip wobbled, unable to lie to him you answered, your throat closing in on you. It was something impossible, a change in seats and teams being so close cut to the season?

It was basically impossible and yet here you were.

“At the end of last season.” you managed to say as your voice wobbled.

That was well off two months ago.

You knew you should’ve told him the moment they suggested it to you. It would’ve been the right thing to do but you just could never find a good time to tell him. Yet that was just something you’d told yourself to make it seem better.

Lando let out a scoff, “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, standing out of his chair, a loud scraping noise filled the apartment, dinner on the table long forgotten. You stared up at him, regret tainted your face.

You stood up too, reaching out for him.

“I did, I mean I tried to. I just didn’t know how to tell you, they didn’t want me to. I know I should’ve told you. I’m sorry Lan, I really am.” you stammered, tripping over your own words.

He pulled away from your grasp like you had burnt him. “I thought we were in this together, I trusted us, I thought you did too. But apparently not.”

“No, wait, Lando. Stop, where are you going?” you asked helplessly as you followed him to the door. He grabbed his keys from the kitchen bench, unable to look in your direction as he answered.

“I have to go. Go somewhere away from you.”

The front door slammed shut behind him and you collapsed against the wall in a heap of sobs.

<—————————————————————————————————>

A week passed and Lando didn’t come back home. You called him, texted, all of them going to either voicemail or delivered and unanswered.

You tried asking the other drivers of the grid whether they’d spoken to him but they all answered with the same thing: that he’d asked them to leave him alone for the time being.

You hated yourself right now. You should’ve told him the moment McLaren offered his seat to you. You had been scared that if he knew he’d leave, and well, keeping it from him resulted in just the same thing you wanted to avoid.

You wanted to feel mad, mad at him because your selfishness couldn’t help but want to blame him. Yet, you knew it was wrong, the only person at fault was you. So here you sat in the waiting lobby of McLaren, surrounded by so many people who were associates with Lando it made you feel like a fool. You felt as if everyone was staring at you and not only that but judging hard as if they knew what had happened.

That’s when you spotted him, Lando was walking through the lobby, he was in the same clothes as that night. Your heart dropped as you stood up, unsure of what you were going to say him but you pressed forward. Your footsteps echoed around the lobby as you caught up to Lando who wasn’t yet aware of your presence.

“Lando!” you called, he paused and hesitantly turned around to face you. All those walls you’d broken down throughout the years were now back up again as he stared at you coldly. And it was just like it was back in school, Lando staring down at you as you looked up at him helplessly.

“What are you doing here?” he asked bluntly as he looked pass you, unable to meet your gaze. You swore your heart broke a little when he wouldn’t meet your eyes.

“Please don’t do this, Lando. I know I messed up. I should’ve told you the second they offered the seat to me. I didn’t want to lose you, I thought that if you knew you’d leave.”

“Well looks like you’ve lost me either way. I don’t care about the seat, Y/N. I care about the fact that you chose to hide it from me, I thought we were in this together.” his eyes flitted from your eyes to away as he took a step backwards. You could feel him slipping from your heart, you reached forward.

“We can! Please, I promise we can fix this, I can fix this. Just don’t leave me, please.” the words tumbled out of you only to come out as desperate and pathetic. It was wrong, you knew it too.

“I can’t do this right now, Y/N. I have to go meet Fred Vasseur at Ferrari.”

“Ferrari?”

Lando let out a sigh, stepping past you as he replied.

“Yeah. Ferrari’s offered me your seat.”

You felt like you’d been kicked in the stomach as you watched Lando walk out the McLaren doors. Tears slipped from your eyes and rolled down your cheeks as you stifled a sob in your hands. You watched him leave, taking your heart with him.

<—————————————————————————————————>

A couple of months later

“Race in 15 minutes.” a voice called in passing as you sat on the steps of your garage. Your eyes floated around to where Oscar stood next to one of the engineers, both peering down at a screen, jabbing at something on it every so often whilst nodding.

Oscar was the other driver who joined the grid this year to race alongside you with Mclaren. He was a young polite funny Australian guy and from what you’d heard and seen- one of the best drivers of the newest generation. He’d already impressed you before on numerous occasions when you would go with Lando to go watch the F2 races when you got the chance. The two of you would go watch your old buddies race and join them in drinking afterwards.

“All good.” you replied, anxiousness creeping its way into your voice as you attempted to banish any thought of Lando. You swallowed hard as you pulled your gloves on, hands trembling as they did before any race.

It was the first race of the 2023 season, there was a new lineup of drivers, some old, some new. Many of the drivers had transferred teams, this included both you and Lando, Carlos, Daniel Riccardo making his comeback and a couple of others.

You and Lando had both decided to call it quits after the whole thing that went down during the off-season. The other drivers were aware of what had happened and honestly it didn’t take a lot of thinking to put the two things together. You and Lando had swapped seats at Ferrari and McLaren, and alongside it your relationship had crumbled and fallen apart. Charles and Max, the two drivers you were closest with and looked up to like brothers had also provided comfort, saying they would’ve done the same. But you knew it wasn’t true, they just said it to make you feel better.

You and Lando hadn’t spoken since the day he’d packed everything up and left the apartment. You’d been absent when he’d left.

Neither of you had the bravery to reach out yet and neither of you could too busy with other things. Yet, two months later you still missed him, longing for his comfort and endless love he’d given you. It made you feel sick, it all felt so misplaced and wrong.

Both Sandy and Lisa had provided you with solace and comfort with their weekly movie nights at your apartment with buckets of ice cream. But it wasn’t the same, you still felt like you were missing something. Or someone. And either way, it would’ve been Lando.

Life just felt so wrong without him. There wasn’t anyone to ramble to each time you came back from work, no one to sit down with and watch corny movies with popcorn with. No one to sit on the balcony with and watch the stars late at night, no one to go on day trips to beach with and build sandcastles only for them to be swallowed by the ocean at the end of the day.

All of those things you’d found within Lando ever since Day 1. He was the person who kept you grounded, the person who’d stay up rubbing circles on your palms late at night when you couldn’t fall asleep or who would keep you company as you cooked in the kitchen.

And all because of a few dumb thoughts you’d lost it all in a mere few days. If you could turn back time you would’ve gone back and fixed everything. Now the only thing you could do was sit and wallow in regret and self pity.

<—————————————————————————————————>

You felt a soft tapping on your helmet, you looked up through the visor of your helmet to see Charles standing next to you, a wide spread grin on his face.

You broke into a smile as you stood up, pulling your helmet off.

“Hey old man, what’s up?” you greeted your former teammate with a hug. His smile dropped, replaced with a grimace upon hearing the nickname from you.

“Came to see you, you traitor. Can’t believe you’d choose this colour over this colour.” he remarked in disgust as he pointed to your suit and then his own. You had to admit, the bright red did look a lot nicer than the papaya orange you were currently sporting.

“Part of the job, I can’t say no unfortunately. It’ll grow onto me eventually.” you shrugged spreading your arms out and looking down at the papaya coloured suit.

Charles clicked his tongue dismissively before his expression turned soft, something you’d seen too much of lately.

“You sure you okay though? Have you spoken to-“ he cleared his throat, leaning in before whispering, “Lando.” like it was some sort of forbidden word. You bit back a laugh.

“It’s okay you can say his name.” You chuckled, Charles eyed you suspiciously.

“Are you sure? Because the last time I did you cried for 2 hours.” He answered.

You swatted him defensively, “That was ages ago!”

“That was last week.”

“Whatever.” You huffed, crossing your arms.

“Will you talk to him?” Charles asked.

“Nah, it’s fine though, we can’t talk. Not for now at least.” you told him, but your voice was strained as your eyes flickered around the garage. Charles knew you hadn’t taken breaking up with Lando well. As your “older brother” alongside Max the two of them made it their sole mission to keep you from harms way, that being Lando.

He looked at you with pity, you caught his eye before scoffing. Wallowing in self pity was something you’d done too many times this year.

“Don’t look at me like that, Charles.” You said, letting out a huff.

“Like what, Y/N?” he prompted cautiously. You couldn’t get pissed at Charles, he knew it too. After all, that’s what a big brother did, annoy the shit out of you.

“That you feel bad for me. I’m fine, I swear.”

But you didn’t believe the words that came out from your mouth either. He chuckled as he ruffled your hair affectionately before you swatted his hand away.

“I know you are, petite soeur.”

Your nose scrunched up at the nickname Charles had dubbed you ever since your first season. It meant little sister in French or something like that, you were yet to Google it.

He let out one of his contagious laughs before patting you on the back gently, before leaning in and whispering;

“But seriously, if you want Max and I can push him off the track anytime.”

“Okay, time to go, old man.” you said as you shoved him out the garage door. He rounded the corner with one last dumb grin and salut.

“See you out there, petite soeur!”

<—————————————————————————————————>

1 more lap to go.

You could feel your foot getting a cramp from switching between the accelerator and brake, you could feel beads of sweat rolling down your neck and your breathing was heavy.

Right next to you, battling for P2 was Lando. Such a coincidence. Thanks universe, you thought as you turned the steering wheel as you rounded turn 3. Max was long gone in the distance probably nearing the checkered flag already leaving the rest of the grid in dust.

Zhou and Stroll were out already both crashing into the same barriers at turn 7, something you were used to at this point. (IM JOKING, I love them)

In the corner of your eyes you could see and feel Lando closing in on you, pushing you off the track.

You gripped the steering wheel, turning it in the direction of the Ferrari but he was quick to use this as a chance to slip in front of you as you both rounded a corner. You hit the steering wheel angrily as you watched Lando in front of you.

A long strand of curse words left your mouth as you crossed the finish line. The FIA was sure to have fun with that.

Your heart was pounding in your ears loudly as you pulled the car aside to a stop. Your team cheered, you’d gotten on the podium. But it wasn’t a win to you, you’d fallen for Lando’s terribly obvious trap and allowed him to take advantage. You felt like such a fool, he seemed to have that effect on you.

Thanks, universe, you’re a pain in the ass, you thought as your team surrounded you celebrating loudly. Any thought of Lando disappeared in an instant as you were pulled into hugs from your team and instead replaced with smiles and laughter.

You were pulled up onto the platform next to Max, and Lando whom you avoided interacting with the entire podium stand part. Everything after that was a quick blur until the after race press conference.

“Here we’re joined by Max Verstappen, Lando Norris and Y/N

L/N.”

You forced a smile, honestly the only thing you wanted right now was to be at home eating ice cream with Sandy and Lisa. Or be sleeping, you’d be okay with either of those options. Yet, here you were sitting on a couch alongside your friend and ex-boyfriend in front of a bunch of reporters.

You glanced over at Max who’d thoughtfully placed himself in between both you and Lando. Something you were sure to thank him for afterwards. He sent you a gentle smile, one you returned without hesitation.

The first couple of questions were pretty simple ones, you avoided adding onto Lando’s answers and he to yours and there was no need to.

That was until a young female reporter took the opportunity to ask about you and Lando’s relationship. Something that caught you unprepared and by surprise.

“So Y/N and Lando,” she began, you could feel your heartbeat spiking as you looked around, every PR training you’d sat through instantly disappearing from your mind.

“There’s been rumours going around that the seat transition wasn’t something that was thoroughly discussed before the contract signing. Is there something you’d like to add on about this?”

You swallowed hard as you avoided meeting Lando’s gaze, one you could see in the corner of your eye.

“N-no comment.” you managed to say.

“Right. So how about you and Lando’s relationship status, there’s been some sources claiming-“

“Okay. I think that’s enough. We’re here to answer questions about the race, nothing else.” Max cut off as he stepped in with a stern voice, one that was sure to make anyone go silent. You prayed to god that no one heard the giant sigh of relief that you let out after Max interjected. You could feel yourself shrinking under the stares of all the reporters and photographers as you sat in front of them.

The rest of the conference went by in plain awkwardness, answers were now only answered by Max, yet another thing you had to thank him for.

You finally exhaled as you stepped out of the conference room, Max behind you, Lando had gone out the other door. You leant against the empty corridor wall, head pressed against the cool plaster.

“That was a nightmare.” you groaned loudly, the exhaustion obvious in your voice. Max let out a sigh as he crossed his arms disapprovingly.

“That was unacceptable on their side to allow the reporter to keep asking such questions.” Max mused, anger tainted his voice. You let out a laugh as you turned to him.

“Thanks, Maximilian.” you broke into a grin knowing how much he hated being called that. He huffed disapprovingly, “Maybe next time I wont save your sorry ass.”

“Okay, okay. Calm your farm, pal.” you replied as you both began walking down the corridor headed toward the entrance where there was sure to be a giant crowd waiting.

“I’ll go get that reporter fired.” Max announced loudly despite it only being the two of you in the corridor. You looked up at him, holding back a laugh despite the look on his face being the opposite.

“Admirable goals, but it’s fine really. I’m sure Twitter will have a fun time tearing her apart.” you waved it off with a gentle smile knowing just how brutal the audience on Twitter could be.

Max chuckled, “Everything else okay though?” You knew instantly what he was talking about, you appreciated the concern, you really did but you could handle yourself.

Your smile fell, replaced with narrow eyes and a clenched jaw as you eyed him.

“Did Charles put you up to this?” you asked him skeptically, he shook his head.

“I’m allowed to worry about you too, you know.” he added with a comforting pat on the shoulder.

“Thanks Maximilian, for everything.”

“Okay, you can shut up now.”

<—————————————————————————————————>

“Y/N?”

“One second!” you called, trying to avoid the oil that was spattering into a puddle beside your face. You were currently in your father’s mechanic shop underneath a car working away at it. You were still blowing off steam after the press conference that had happened on the weekend and your father was more than happy to lend you the garage for just that. You knew some part of you wanted Lando to approach you after the race, even if it wasn’t to talk but just to say something, you know?

But even if he had you were sure how you’d react.

“Can you pass me the wrench?” you called to the unknown person. You heard a loud clatter of metal before a wrench was stuck in your face.

“Thanks.” you grumbled as you took it from them, pausing as a shock of realisation hit you.

Wait, that watch on their wrist.

Your dumbass tried sitting up on the board while still under the car.

BAM.

“Ouch, fucking hell.” you swore loudly as you pulled yourself out from underneath the car. Rubbing your forehead in pain as you stood up, before your eyes settled on the person in front of you.

Your mind blanked as Lando stared back at you. You could see him biting back a laugh at your misfortune. He was in a white shirt, one button too many undone for you to know where this was going. His hands were shoved in his pockets as he stood watching you as you walked his way.

“Fine. Laugh, you asshole.” you grumbled as you brushed past him. Gripping the wrench in your fist as you held back the strong urge to whack his head in with it. Lando laughed and you’d be lying if the sound of it didn’t still make your insides turn and do flips.

“Calm down Twinkle Toes, I’m not here to laugh at you. I’m here to . . . apologise.” his tone turning serious, you let out an steady exhale.

You missed being called that, it was a dumb nickname he’d given you as children, back when you were each other’s biggest rivals on the track.

Twinkle Toes and Loverboy, a duo to rival Chandler and Joey. Or at least that’s what your dumb asses came up with at the time.

You let the wrench fall from your grip and onto the bench with a loud metallic clatter, breaking the silence before you spoke.

“Yeah.” you breathed, staring at the wall in attempt to not let your guard slide down so easily.

“Want to go for a ride?”

You turned around with a confused expression, eyebrows furrowed and all. Lando stared back at you, heat flushing up your cheeks as a smile tugged at his lips.

“What?”

“C’mon, Twinkle Toes, let’s get out of here.” he said with a gentle nod of his head in the direction of his car parked outside.

And that’s all it took for you to drop everything and follow him out the garage.

<————————————————————————————-—————>

You let out a soft gasp when Lando pulled up at the track where you both used to race on during your karting days. The sun was already beginning to slip back the mountains and buildings and out of view, you bit your lip nervously as you opened the car door.

Was this right?

Were you making a big mistake?

Despite your lingering doubts you followed him onto the empty track. The first few minutes of walking were full of silence, yet it wasn’t uncomfortable despite everything that had happened. It was peaceful of all things.

“I-“

You both immediately retracted your words as you both began at the same time. You looked away, “God this worse than that movie we watched that one time.” you murmured with a soft laugh. Lando found himself chuckling knowing exactly which movie you were talking about.

“Let me go first, then.” he offered, you nodded silently. A long string of silence filled the air, only the sound of your footsteps on the track could be heard.

“I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. Honestly? I would’ve done the same thing. I shouldn’t have given so easily on us, I should’ve given us a second chance. Because bloody hell these last two months without you have been absolute shit. I don’t even know who I am without you, and maybe in someway that’s a bad thing but I don’t care as long as I have you.” he stopped in his tracks and faced you, his dark green eyes reflecting the light in the sunset as it cast its gaze over his face.

Your hand cupped his cheek softly, your heart fluttering when he pressed his face into your hand, loving how it fit perfectly.

Just like that it was like you were both high schoolers again. Slipping out of class to steal kisses in the hallways before they were crowded with students. Sneaking out at night through your window to go walk around the streets late together.

You swallowed hard and spoke.

“After everything happened, my life completely just stopped still. And it felt like I had lost half of who I was because the truth is, Lando, that you’re a part of me. Ever since we were kids it’s like without you i’m lost. I should’ve told you the moment they offered me the seat, I was just ashamed and scared. Because I wanted a future with you, because I still do. I want to marry you, have a family and grow old right next to you.”

You stared longingly into his eyes as he pulled you closer. You fell into his arms as they wrapped around you like your own protective shield. Because the truth was that Lando was your home. You let out a shaky breath, as you pulled back and leant in for a kiss only for your lips to be captured in a gentle motion.

It was something out of a cheesy teen movie, one that the two of you would just hate - two figures kissing as the sun set in the back of a race track.

“You’re crazy.” you whispered against his lips.

“Crazy for you.” he whispered back, sending you both into fits of laughter. This was it, this was right, this was home.

“C’mon, let’s go home Twinkle Toes.”

“After you, Loverboy.”

A/n: STOP ITS SO CRINGEY I WANNA DIEE

Jk.

Tysm for reading! I apologise again for the bad writing, this is just an old piece that I really wanted to get out there, I hope u cringed just as much as I did reading this! Stay safe and have an amazing day - xoxo takimakiiii (yes I changed my name it was long overdue lol)

#lando norris #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 #lando norris x reader #lando x you #oscar piastri #charles leclerc x reader #f2 #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #f1 angst

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mwahbabe · 5 months ago

Note

drop more loser!Chloe content and my life is urs

loser!chloe headcanons♡

mdni, fluff, switch!chloe, nsfw, cunnilingus(r!recieving) (c!recieving) strap on sex,(r!recieving),(c!recieving),scissoring/tribbing, perv!chloe.

a/n: you got it baybee!! omg i need her so bad it’s not a joke nomo😩

✦ loser! chloe who was so scared to hold your hand when you first started dating, doing that pinky thing, inching it closer to yours while you were sitting together or would brush her hand against yours while you’re walking together.

✦ then hesitantly takes your hand and acts nonchalant until seeing your sweet smile and she gives you a goofy grin.

✦ when you started getting closer and more comfortable around each other she just spoils you.

✦ is such a sweet girl.

✦ we’ve seen how she is with those she cares about and trusts

✦ acts like the badass tough punk lesbian but when seeing a hot chic can’t even form a sentence.

✦ once before she met you ofc when a tatted up girl at a concert wearing little to nothing came to ask her where the bathroom was she was standing there with this dumb look on her face before pointing in the direction of it and then proceeded to walk into someone when she turned back around😭😭

✦ still has her “gee wizz that’s my girlfriend? awesome!” moments when she sees you. especially when you’re undressing or getting ready.

✦ sends you stupid memes while you’re in class/at work

✦ like the ones that are so random and unfunny to the point they are funny😭 and the “feeling sad rn send boob pics” ones.

✦ and she sends you stuff that she thinks you will find funny.

✦ was a weird kid in middle school.

✦ argues with little kids on minecraft servers.

✦ golden retriever gf. she will do anything for you and whenever. oh your dvd players broken? all of a sudden she’s a handywoman. you need a specific snack at 3am when it’s raining? she’s getting in the car.

✦ soooo puppy coded. just- look at her. puppy eyed masc.

✦ the type to burn a cd for you with songs that remind her of you.

✦ has tried to pierce herself but couldn’t handle the pain.

✦ 100% tried to act tough during her tattoo but whimpered the whole time.

✦ definitely watched those creepypasta internet videos when she was 13-14 and max got scared while she pretended they didn’t scare her but couldn’t sleep for weeks.

✦ was secretly a fan of monster high even if she had barbie dolls growing up. thought they were all hot. and def had a crush on clawdeen. cuz she’s a lesbian in love with her bsf? lol get it?

✦ her instagram is probably so empty except for a profile picture of a dumb shark meme she just hasn’t bothered changing. and maybe posts once a month and somehow has lots of followers.

✦ definately loves sharks because they’re “badass and eat people”

✦ but it’s so fitting because they’re actually so misunderstood and seen as mean and aggressive but are mostly just sea puppies

♡

nsfw

✦ loser!chloe who absolutely begs to eat you out. she loves it. will have her face buried between your thighs for hours.

“please babe… c’mon just one more? please?”

✦ gets so carried away she forgets you’re overstimulated, she just enjoys eating your pussy so much.

✦ even came in her pants from your sounds and the taste of you alone.

✦ loves when you ride her face. she doesn’t care if she can’t breathe. just sit on it. breathing is overrated anyway.

✦ loser!chloe who cums too fast during tribbing and has to pull away and eat your pussy a little before putting your leg back over her shoulder so she won’t cum before you.

✦ such a loser she steals stuff of yours, like bracelets, lipgloss, hair ties, …your panties from the laundry hamper.

✦ sniffs them while her fingers are pumping in and out of her cunt that’s embarrassingly soaked. her eyes rolling back as her cunt clamps down on her fingers smelling the fabric before putting it back acting like nothing happened.

✦ SERVICE TOP!!!

✦ loves making you feel good. it’s her purpose. her job. and she’s damn good at it. round after round of turning you into a mess gives her a sense of pride and like she’s doing right and making the love of her life feel good and satisfied.

✦ gets off on you getting off.

✦ if you’re a pillow princess she love love loves you.

✦ lay there and look pretty with your legs spread or over her shoulders orr on your stomach face down ass up while her strap is buried in you? absofuckinglutely.

✦ this girl is a whimperer. idc. she has pretty moans and gets embarrassed by it especially how she moans like she’s the one being pleasured when fucking you.

✦ loserrrr chloe who has wet dreams about you while you’re sleeping next to her and has to rub one out and muffle her moans and whimpers to not wake you.

✦ if you’re more of a dominant person she also loves you.

✦ sub chloe is so needy and such a brat<3

✦ when you eat her out she’s a mess. trying to conceal her moans letting out grunts and covering her mouth until she gets close and these pretty whines and groans come from her as she cums all over your face.

✦ when you first use the strap on her, she gets so flustered at how slutty she sounds as the toy slides in and out of her and the angle you’re fucking her in making her lose her mind.

✦ then will deny anything she said or how she sounded if you bring it up.

“shut up! you’re such an ass.”

✦ yea her loser ass loves you<33

#chloe price x reader #chloe x reader #chloe price x fem reader #chloe price fanfic #chloe price x reader smut #chloe price x you #chloe price smut #lis chloe price #life is strange #✿ – 🌺 ⊹˚˖ lias works !

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throttleheart · 7 days ago

Text

⸻ ⸻ ⸻

Upstairs Noise, Downstairs Trouble

Pairing: Lando Norris x Oscar Piastri

Genre: Crack treated seriously, fluff, sugestive, non-descriptive sexual content

Word Count: <1k

Summary: Oscar’s new upstairs neighbor is loud. Not like TV-too-loud or walking-in-boots-at-3AM loud. No — he’s singing-abba-in-the-shower-while-dropping-weights kind of loud. Oscar files a noise complaint. The guy responds with apology gifts — that are somehow worse. Oscar plans to stay annoyed… until he reads the note. Now he’s doomed. Especially when he finally sees him.

⸻

Oscar lives alone. Quietly. Peacefully.

So when someone moves into the flat above and starts sprinting at midnight, blasting music, laughing out loud alone — it ruins him. Literally. Sleep? Gone. Sanity? Hanging by a thread.

He tries earplugs. Noise-cancelling headphones. Rage.

And finally, when the Mamma Mia karaoke starts again on a Tuesday morning at 8:32 AM — he snaps.

To: Building Management

Subject: Formal Noise Complaint – Unit 7B

Hi, sorry — I never do this, but the new tenant in 7B is extremely disruptive. Loud music, late hours, dropping heavy items, etc. Would appreciate if something could be done.

– Oscar Piastri (6B)

He expects silence. What he gets… is worse.

The next day, there’s a knock at his door.

No one’s there — just a box.

Inside:

• A giant chocolate bar. Unopened. Expired.

• A candle that smells like motor oil.

• A pair of socks that say “STOP BEEING SAD” with cartoon bees.

• A folded letter, written in messy black ink.

⸻

Oscar —

Sorry if I’ve been loud. I honestly didn’t realize. New place, new acoustics, apparently a loud voice and heavier feet than I thought. My bad.

I tried to pick stuff to say sorry — not sure if you like chocolate or bees or whatever, but I figured effort counts.

Anyway. I’ll try to bee quieter (haha get it?). Thanks for not just banging on my door or something.

– Lando (Upstairs)

P.S. I swear the weights fell by accident. I’m not that kind of gym guy.

⸻

Oscar stares at it.

Reads it again.

…and again.

He wants to stay mad. But something about the messy writing and dumb socks and the fact that Lando thought this would fix it makes him laugh out loud for the first time in days.

The noise lessens.

But then it starts again — softer this time. A voice. Singing.

Through the ceiling, muffled and low:

“My love is wider than Victoria Lake

Taller than the Empire State

It dives, it jumps

I can't give you more than that

Surely, you want me back”

Oscar rolls his eyes.

But a week later, when they pass each other in the stairwell for the first time — finally, face to face — Oscar’s entire brain short-circuits.

Lando is…

Shaggy-haired, hoodie half-zipped, smiling like he’s already gotten away with something. “Hey — 6B, right?”

Oscar blinks. “Yeah.”

“You must be Oscar.” Lando grins. “Hope the bees helped.”

Oscar stares. “They didn’t.”

Lando laughs.

And Oscar knows — in that split second — he’s so screwed.

⸻

They don’t even touch for weeks after that.

But the tension builds.

Soft greetings turn into lingering ones. They get coffee. Lando gives him a playlist. Oscar pretends not to memorize every track.

And then one night, after a bad day, Oscar knocks.

Lando answers in sweatpants, shirtless, damp curls, blinking like he just came out of the shower. “Everything okay?”

Oscar walks past him. Doesn’t speak.

Lando closes the door, heart suddenly pounding.

“Did I do something?”

Oscar turns.

“I read your letter again,” he says. Quiet. Then steps closer. “You said you’d be quieter.”

“Yeah—?”

“You weren’t.”

And then he grabs Lando’s jaw, pushes him back against the kitchen counter, and kisses him breathless.

Lando makes a noise that can only be described as whimpering.

Oscar pulls back just enough to breathe.

“You want me to stop?”

Lando’s voice is wrecked. “Not even slightly.”

⸻

They don’t make it to the bed.

Oscar ruins him on the couch.

Lando’s hoodie ends up on the lamp. One sock survives. The other is never seen again.

Lando is a puddle of giggles and flushed skin, buried against Oscar’s chest.

“You’re were pretty loud,” he whispers, breathless. “Not a good example.”

Oscar grins against his hair.

“I’m sure the neighbours don’t mind.”

⸻ ⸻ ⸻

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angellcvkes · 11 days ago

Text

𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴 - 𝘰𝘵8 ౨ৎ

౨ৎ

pairing : boybsf!ot8 + fem!reader

a/n : these are headcannons of having stray kids as boybestfriends ! these are my first headcannons ! hope you guys enjoy ! :D !

౨ৎ

bang chan

your unofficial therapist

always checks in with “have you eaten?” or “how are you really?”

makes playlists just for you depending on your mood

gives the warmest hugs, the kind that make everything quiet for a second

walks you home no matter how late it is

if anyone messes with you, he won’t even yell—he’ll talk to them, calmly, and somehow that’s scarier

sends you voice memos at 2am like, “yo i had this idea for a song, listen”

lee know (minho)

teases you like it’s his job

but secretly keeps an eye on you at all times

will insult you while handing you your favorite drink

“you look like a mess. here’s your matcha.”

lets you babysit his cats but only after a whole background check

gives surprisingly thoughtful advice when you’re sad

if someone hurts you, he won’t talk—just stares them down until they leave the room

changbin

your gym hype man and your post-breakdown cuddler

texts you “drink water or i’ll fight you” daily

flexes in selfies just to make you laugh

lets you sit on his back while he does pushups for fun

will destroy anyone who insults you, no hesitation

also brings you snacks because “you looked like you needed sugar”

cries with you during emotional k-dramas but denies it every time

hyunjin

dramatic and emotional soulmate

sends you 15 tiktoks in a row at 3am

insists on doing your makeup for fun

calls you “bestie” but holds your hand when you’re anxious

gets angry for you before you even process it yourself

once threatened a stranger with just a raised brow and a perfectly timed hair flip

also insists on taking candid photos of you “because you’re art”

han

literal chaos in a human body

always down for impulsive food runs at midnight

calls you while grocery shopping because he “forgot what humans eat”

turns every serious convo into a joke but will dead-serious fight your demons

wrote you a rap once when you were sad. it was terrible. you cried anyway.

lets you vent for hours and only says “do you want me to beat them up or hug you first?”

felix

the sunshine protector

gives you forehead kisses and warm cookies

always notices when you’re not okay—even if you say you are

lets you wear his hoodies and acts like it’s no big deal

if someone makes you cry, he’ll be so quiet and soft-spoken... until he’s not

you’re the only one he shares his most vulnerable thoughts with

believes in your dreams more than you do sometimes

seungmin

dry humor king, roasts you all day long

but also shows up when no one else does

you could call him at 4am and he’d be like, “ugh... what happened?” but he’d come

helps you study, but bullies you if you get answers wrong

always remembers the small things you say, even when you forget you said them

secretly checks your location just to make sure you got home safe

would knock out anyone who talks down to you, then deny it later

i.n (jeongin)

innocent chaos, but would bite someone for you

acts like he’s your annoying little brother, but gets super protective real fast

sends you memes instead of actual emotional support

gives the best random hugs

asks you for advice on everything, then goes and does the opposite

once tried to threaten someone on your behalf but tripped mid-sentence

still insists it was “intimidating”

౨ৎ

xoxo, elle.

#𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 ౨ৎ ⊹₊⟡ ᵎᵎ #stray kids #stray kids fanfic #christopher bang #han jisung #hwang hyunjin #kim seungmin #lee felix #lee minho #seo changbin #skz scenarios #skz smut #skz imagines #skz #skz fanfic #skz x reader #skz code

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loganlermanstanaccount · 2 years ago

Text

please don't kill me mr ghostface (part 1)

(AO3 Mirror), (Main Masterlist), (Kinktober '23 Masterlist)

(Part 2 - coming soon!)

pairing: stalker!Miguel x f!reader, slight yandere undertones. (he's a murderer lowkey but very gentle and sweet and scary hot that's all guys I promise.)

summary: murders on campus. the odd toothbrush goes missing. what's new, honestly. life keeps ticking and you end up at a Halloween party somewhere you shouldn't. there, you meet a gorgeous man in a strange mask. he seems sweet, and all you're looking for is a bit of fun. what could go wrong?

warnings: 18+ , fingering, anal play (mig eats ass, send tweet!) , rimming, p in v, soft dom mig, some switchy + needy behaviour, mild threat of violence (not by mig), alcohol consumption. Minors DNI

a/n: 5k words of ignoring red flags. girl get a grip!

wc: 5.2k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You look too good to feel this shitty.

That's the thought you're left with, picking at flimsy spiderwebs draped on a sofa. Sandwiched between two couples making out like their life depends on it, of course, but that's beside the point.

“Someone said there's CCTV of a guy walking out the building at 3am… seems a little convenient, if you ask me…”

There's a TV on in the background, barely cutting through the dense chatter. By this point, your eyes have glazed over, trying not to let them rattle around in your skull. Drunken conversation around you, and it's the same thing as always; long, winding tales of a campus killer - the kind out of a cheesy slasher. What the news says, officially, is that there weren't any links between those 3 bodies that turned up out on the playing field, an empty dorm, a supply closet; but it hasn't stopped people from indulging in wild speculation.

“No, no, she just didn't turn up to my Econ class….I swear–”

Stay in pairs. Don't walk alone at night. Whilst you think it's all tangential at best, you're not one to tempt fate. The gossip, you could do without. But it doesn't hurt to keep yourself safe, pepper spray nestled in your usual bag.

Tonight, however, you've left it at home, thinking the friends you came with would be enough. Somewhere, somehow, they're off chugging shit beer and you're milling about the place and sinking into couch cushions. There's something sticky by the seat, and there's a crackle as you're jostled - the sharp edge of a stray elbow almost knocks your drink away.

Fuck.

For one night only, you're a cheerleader. A short, short skirt and little top; it has you feeling overdressed. Even though you've left the pompoms at home, next to your taser; seemingly, you've read the mood wrong - stupidly assuming people would dress up for a Halloween party. As you make your way to the kitchen, tugging down your skirt here and there, that's all you can see; half-hearted costumes - cat ears, white sheets and flimsy masks. It feels like you stick out in comparison. You've gone all out, with nothing but the threat of a beer sodden lap for your trouble.

It's a big house. Alpha-delta-phi, kappa-something-or-the-other; a frat with too much money and too much time on their hands. With all the doors you walk past, shallow thuds and thumping ringing out behind them, you're as good as lost. The best ragers this side of campus - as raved about by one of your friends. It feels like bucketfuls of horseshit right now, wandering around packed halls - and oh. Is that the same staircase?

“ Fuck, watch it!” You clatter into the side of an arm, a t-shirt with a superman symbol emblazoned at the chest. He's pretty, but his features curl into a sudden sneer.

" Sorry –" You start but he doesn't let you finish, wagging a thick finger in your face.

There's a girl draped on his arm, merely watching as he shouts; loud over pumping music from the next room over.

"Hey, dipshit , you gonna keep staring? Mouth open like a fucking fish– do you know how much this shit costs?" Your eyes are wide, as he gets closer - stinking of alcohol and pot and God knows what else. You're not drunk enough to entertain this, shirking away from confrontation. The room is hot, his breath is sticky , and–

He grabs your arm. Immediately you're trying to wrench yourself away, not daring to look into blown pupils. Clammy, his grip tightens on bare skin and your stomach churns. He's solid, bigger than you and unable to keep the anger out of his voice…. and fuck. You're scared.

Fear, rising like bile at the back of your throat. Bitter and sharp, fear at the fact that there isn't anyone to help; that everyone else looks away and pretends that this isn't happening. Fear at the spittle that sprays from his mouth like poison, stinging skin. You screw your eyes shut, expecting a slap, a blow, or something worse and then…

Thud. The hand around your wrist is no more, replaced by a gentle pat on your shoulder. Nothing lingering, just a light touch to get you to open your eyes; to see that guy on the floor, clutching at a swollen jaw and split lip.

"You okay? "

It's deep, muffled by a mask, and the figure in front of you has to crouch to be heard over incessant chatter.

You're nodding, sheepishly, not trusting yourself to keep that edge out of your voice.

Ghostface, the masked man, the only other person at this party properly dressed up; he only cocks his head in a gesture that says a thousand words. His robe pools around his wrists, thick fabric that you grab onto without thinking, grip just as tight as your would-be assailant. You don't even want to think about it, what could've happened if someone hadn't stepped in. It has you biting back tears, more shaken than you'd like to admit.

"H-Hey, hey, easy…" He's rubbing little circles into your shoulder, hesitant. Your lip wobbles, ever so slightly, but he catches it, gently pulling you aside.

There isn't a crowd. The stragglers, those that saw the display, barely look at the guy on the floor, scrambling to his feet and far away. In the meantime, you fight off tears and force yourself to flash a shaky smile.

"Good. " You croak, taking his hands off your shoulders. "F-Fuck , I mean… I'm good. Thank you."

He doesn't quite budge, giving you that strange look again. At least, you think so, rearing up to his full height to cross his arms. Quiet incredulity, almost cartoonish, and it almost makes you laugh. Almost.

"Let me get you a drink… some water, or something." He says, stretching out a gloved hand. Sensing your hesitance, he quickly adds, "... Please ."

Chewing your lip, you only have to think for a second before taking it, and you're led out through double doors. Your masked man is big; broad shouldered and hulking, cutting through the writhing mass with ease. It's just as well, you think, unable to sort through the tangle of things that rattle around in your head. You hate this fucking school, sometimes. Boys will be boys. Wear more appropriate clothing. Well, wasn't she just asking for it? A culture of inaction; of hand-wringing and hand-waving… passing on the blame until three dead bodies show up on campus.

That's one thing you have to thank the so-called serial killer for, at least. At least something might actually change around here.

Empty, the kitchen is a mess, but nothing you wouldn't expect. Drink long gone; a distant memory spilled on a carpet, somewhere; you perch awkwardly around a counter, not knowing where to put your hands. Rattled, you've resorted to a glassy stare; stewing and festering and thinking so intensely it might frighten off your masked man.

It doesn't. He merely taps you, a gentle elbow to your side and he offers you a glass of water. Weakly, you give him a smile, gulping up the liquid.

"You here by yourself ?" He asks, muffled by plastic.

You can't help it, eyes wide at the implication - a masked man, a killer on campus - and he must realise the way it sounds.

In no time at all, he clarifies, "I just mean… fuck … is there someone I can call? So you're not alone."

It's a kind gesture. Kinder than you'd expect from a stranger. Slowly, you shake your head.

"They ditched me about an hour ago." You give a bitter laugh. "Just me and you, Mr Ghostface."

And with that he laughs; deep and sonorous, causing heat to bloom at your chest. Despite yourself, you smile, and you swear you see a glint of something behind the mask.

It has you itching for a drink. All of a sudden you make your way across the room, swiping at empty beer bottles and cans, rummaging around for some hard liquor. When you find it - a half empty bottle of something that smells like carpet cleaner and acetone - you're taking a swig, and offering it to the man across from you. It's sneaky, but you don't think he clocks your paltry attempt to see what he looks like under that mask.

He shakes his head, hands up in defeat.

"You sure?" Your voice is lilting, hazy around the edges. Creeping up closer, you press your body to his, taking another unceremonious gulp. Under that cloak - heavy, somewhat well made - you can feel him, lean and cut muscle that tenses as you get closer.

Batting your eyelashes, you make full use of the cheerleader get-up, snaking a dainty hand to his side, and then up to the counter. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was ogling you, chest taught and tight at the way you feel against him.

Or maybe, he's bored as shit. You wouldn't know - with the mask, and all.

Wobbly, you clamber up onto the counter, helped up by a gentle hand at the small of your back… and oh. You like that: big, thick fingers that press into you, carefully tracing your waist… and why won't they go down a little further? Grab handfuls of the flesh at your thighs, your ass, everything in between?

He's too conservative for that, you think. Nervous, too. Nevertheless, he slots between your thighs, big palms flat next to your ass.

"I… I don't mind watching." He says, voice low.

It makes you giggle as you drink, sweet and soft, and liquid dribbles past your lips, down to collarbone. Mr Ghostface is gentle, tracing a finger across the juncture of your neck, light pressure on the vein that sits nice and pretty at its side.

It goes to your head. The alcohol, the large man of few words with a hand on your neck. When he finishes swiping at the liquid and pulls his hand away, you curl your hand around his, bringing it to your lips. Pert lips wrap around his finger, tongue swiping over leather, and you swear you can hear his breath hitch - heart clearly skipping a beat.

"Careful…" You say, leaning forward to press your tits against him, brushing away imaginary fluff from his shoulders. "I really like this costume."

"I like it too." He clears his throat. "You look nice."

"Nice? Is that all I get, Mr Ghostface?" You're teasing, tracing up his broad chest to his neck and then just under his chin. Carefully, you hook a finger under the thin strap of his mask, tugging ever-so gently.

Quickly, he stops you.

"Not yet, sweetheart."

You pout, flashing him a frustrated look - and God , does he want to kiss it off of you.

"But soon?"

"If you're good." You swear you can hear him smile, hands wrapping around your waist.

You get a bit bolder, hand tracing up his sleeve, clutching at thick, corded forearm. Watching intently as he keens, pushing you to the edge of the kitchen counter with only one hand at your back. This close, you even like the way he smells, like rust and oil and earth, the way he feels around you; strong arms caging you in, protecting you. You feel safe, for some reason.

When he sighs into you, exposing a sliver of tan neck, you feel your knees go weak - unable to stop yourself from mouthing at it, pressing little kisses into the skin. He seems so sensitive, rocking into the counter for some pressure already, clutching you closer and closer until there's a hickey blooming just under sharp jawline.

"Fuck- " He hisses, pawing at your waist a little more desperately.

Suddenly self conscious, you separate with a wet smack, and inspect your handiwork.

"Shit." Eyes wide, you press a finger into the flesh. Your masked man winces. "M'sorry. Got carried away."

He heaves, placing his head on your shoulder for a moment, trying to catch his breath.

"It's fine," He strains. "Don't worry… s'fine."

Admittedly, he doesn't seem too fine, adjusting what feels like a painful hard-on beneath a loose cloak.

Cradling his head so he can look at you, you whisper something bold, even for someone who's downed more than a couple shots worth of cheap liquor.

"I know somewhere… I-I think … that we could go if you wanted to…" His head lolls, and you hear him swallow roughly. "Somewhere quiet . We'd be alone. Just us."

A beat passes and you think you might've read this wrong, much too forward for your own good. It’s why he surprises you by nodding - slowly, at first, and then with more conviction. Taking your hand, he snakes it under his mask, and you almost gasp when you feel soft, plump lips at your knuckles and palm, pressing shaky kisses to the skin.

“I need to do something first.” He says it so quietly, you almost miss it under the mask. “Where can I meet you?”

You don’t ask questions.

“Pool house.” You nod towards the windows, overlooking a sizable pool. People mill about its edges, but you know the little house is off-limits for the night. “Side entrance. They… leave it unlocked, sometimes.”

He doesn’t ask questions.

Before he goes, he snakes a hand under your skirt, giving your ass a sizable squeeze - leaving you breathless.

You don’t feel the cold as you slip out, playing with a loose thread at the hem of your skirt. The side entrance is stiff but unlocked, and you duck past a screen, head on a swivel. Like a good girl, you sit on plush cushions, thighs pressed together to relieve a pressure that has been building since you met your masked man. And you want to touch yourself; to circle that little bud with clumsy fingers, imagining it was him.

You wait. And you wait. You settle between the cushions, adjust your skirt, look at your hair through a makeshift mirror - the glossy surface of windows overlooking the pool. Not wanting to risk turning on the lights, you wander past what little streams in from across the pool; flashing and pounding with the heady bass of music. You can't help but wonder where he's gone, if he's even coming, and what he had to do so desperately that he'd leave you wanting more.

At this point, you don't even care if he takes off his mask. You don't want to know a name, or see the real man underneath the costume. You just want him; writhing underneath as you bounce on his fat cock.

"Hey."

That voice makes you jump, swiveling to face him. How did he get in without you noticing? He was so quiet, so–

"Missed you." He says it so soft, it makes you melt, walking slowly towards him. Shrouded in shadow, as you get closer you notice he's shed his cloak, donned in a white t-shirt and straight leg jeans. Big boots, thick with fresh mud, thud onto the tile. When you meet, two figures cut by bright light, you almost gasp. He's taken off the mask. Instead of Mr Ghostface, you're met with a man - and he is so, so beautiful .

Tan skin. High cheekbones, a jaw that could cut glass. His hair is haphazardly slicked back, fluffy and curly in all the right places. But it's his eyes: mischievous and glinting and serious all at the same time - absolutely gorgeous. You could look at him like this forever; chest heaving, messy, out of breath.

Your hand comes to his chest. He’s hot to the touch, clasping his great big hand atop yours. Squeezing, he pulls you closer, other hand creeping up bare thigh, before hooking under your ass in a move that makes you squeal.

From this close, his lashes look so pretty; wispy and romantic and yearning.

"You look beautiful.” He doesn’t kiss you, not yet, content with only watching - studying you with sharp eyes. “Always do."

All you hear are the compliments, too tipsy to notice what the stranger implies. You're not usually one for a one night stand, but he is intoxicating - intense in a way that's hard to explain.

Carding one hand through the curls at the nape of his neck, you press your lips to his in a kiss that starts off sweet and quickly deepens. He is hungry and devouring; licking up your moans with plump lips.

You lead him to the sofa, only separating for fleeting breaths. Eyes low, illuminated by a flash of light here and there; you force yourself to concentrate on him , shuddering breaths and all. He’s hard, rocking into your lower half splayed out beneath him and arms caged around your head. It’s sly, but you snake a hand past his t-shirt, across his back and then fumble with the belt. It makes him smile, soft laughter spilling into your parted lips; before he sits up above you.

“You want it that bad, huh?” Windswept, he croons, batting away your hands to unbuckle the clasp himself.

You groan, shifting upwards. You don’t notice the way his eyes dart down, eying up the peek of thigh that spills out of little shorts.

“Say it f’me, sweetheart.” He hikes up your skirt, exposing your covered cunt. He’s gentle, pawing at the flesh, pressing the heel of his palm right above your clit.

“F-Fuck!” The pressure is delicious, and you roll your hips up, up, up; chasing some semblance of relief. When he stops, you whine - clutching at his forearm, frustrated. “Want it, please .”

“Want what?” He prompts, lifting his shirt over his head in one quick movement. You’re met with the wide span of his chest, muscle taut and tight above you.

“Want you in me. I want… I want you to fuck me ‘til I break, pound my fucking hole so hard I can feel it in the morning. I want– ”

You’re babbling, now, spurred on by the way he tugs off black shorts, lifting up your legs to slip them off. He’s too slow, clearly enjoying watching you squirm and writhe.

“You can have it, sweetheart.” He coos, before capturing you into another kiss. This time, he separates and you follow him up; finally parting with a wet smack. “I’ll give you whatever you want, however you want it… but you gotta do something first.”

“ Anything .” You breathe.

“Fuck yourself, for me. I…I–”

“You like to watch.” You finish it for him, breathless.

“Please.” His head dips low; big, red-brown eyes never leaving yours.

The way he says it leaves you panting, hung off of every word. And you croon, leaning back into couch cushions, already hot at the way he kneads his thumbs to the flesh near your pussy. This close, he can see the way your cunt pulses, eating up a tiny thong between glistening lips. He’s kneeling on the floor, now, snaking his body around to get a perfect view, flashing looks between both your pretty lips.

More than willing to oblige, you pat at your clit, sending sweet pleasure coursing through your lower half. Even though your legs tremble, he holds you down, placing gentle kisses to your inner thighs. Slipping your thong to the side, you dip two fingers past your slit, gathering up slick to press carefully into your hole.

“So… so pretty. ” He sighs, not daring to close his eyes despite the pleasure he feels. When you notice how his other hand is buried in his pants; jerking up and down to match your pace. You start slow, for now, pumping two fingers in and out, heel of your palm snug against your clit. The sounds are obscene, the wet schlick-schlick ringing out in the quiet room.

“Prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever s-seen.” Your stranger moans, slathering over your thighs with sloppy kisses, occasionally swiping at your knuckles. Lower and lower, as you get faster and faster, his tongue makes you feel amazing. You’re close - entranced by your spot in the limelight and the sharp eyes that watch every ministration.

It’s only when you’re knuckle deep, well and truly fucking yourself ; chasing something just out of reach with his help; when two things happen, catching you by surprise. The first, the one that sends electricity down your spine, that makes you jolt and shiver and almost cum right then and there…

…is a wet kiss pressed to your asshole. He slathers and slobbers and licks large stripes up and down; ripping a great moan out from you. He doesn’t stop there, spreading the globes of your ass to delve deeper, tongue-fucking you as your hand stills - unable to concentrate on anything else. Pornographic, he humps his lower half to the same pace, sealing his mouth over your hole. With the vibrations of his moans sending pleasure straight to your clit, you finally cum - a rolling, bubbling orgasm that ends just as intensely.

The second thing that happens, just as you fall off the edge, is that you’re plunged into darkness. The lights from across the pool, once bright and flashing; are cut off. The music stops, and chatter dies down. Your stranger holds you through it, licking up cum from your neglected cunt, whispering sweet things into the skin.

“There it is, baby. Nice n’ slow.” He soothes as you whimper, hand tight in his hair.

In the dark, you’re heaving, feeling him slow down as your cunt clenches around nothing, empty. Shaky, you sit up on your haunches as he follows you up.

“Is everything…? What happened?” You’re a little panicked, shaken up from your orgasm.

“You’re okay, you’re okay. ” He rubs little circles into bare skin. “Too much?”

You shake your head, nuzzling into him. He gives your forehead a kiss, and you feel warmth bloom across your chest.

He shifts. “Just give it a…”

As if on cue, a generator whirs to life, flooding the little room in red light. Something similar seems to happen across the pool, as you take a quick glance to the window.

Your head is a little fuzzy. It aches as you catch his eye, looking at you intently.

“Do you want to stop? We don’t have to–”

“No.” You say it resolutely, with so much force it even catches you off guard. “I want to.”

“Fuck.” He mutters, brows pressed together imperceptibly.

For someone you’ve just met, he still looks at you like ice about to melt, like he’s bearing witness to the last breaths of a dying star. He looks at you like he knows you; like he knows how many half-truths and one-night stands you’ve had to endure. It makes you shiver; here, bathed in crimson light, pressed against one another.

He starts with your lips, a gentle thumb pressed flat, and then deeper, deeper, deeper. It’s like before, you realise, the taste of liquor and leather long gone. He keeps his eyes on you, careful as he pops the thumb out, groaning at the length of spit that comes with a flash of your pink tongue. You splay yourself out underneath him, drinking in the sight above; your stranger, your masked man once upon a time, shirtless and breathless and rock hard against your cunt. Now, he tugs down black boxers, its band cut across his torso just so. Thick hair; dark, curly, neatly trimmed; and you reach to trace down his happy trail, to get a hand on his pretty cock.

He just watches , eyes dark, leaning forward to rock into your soft palm and put his mouth on the skin that pillows out from a tight crop top. To give him more access, you tug it down, exposing sensitive nipple. And then that tongue; searching, inquisitive, precise; wraps itself around the flesh. You keen - a pretty moan that has his heart fluttering and eyes clasped shut.

“Inside.” At first, it’s a whisper, said in the throes of deep pleasure. You repeat it, slowing your hand at his cock.

When he doesn’t answer; still slathering at your tits, pawing the flesh that spills out from your costume; you tug, a sharp thing that has him moaning and sitting up on his haunches.

“Said I wanted you inside, baby.” You say - and his breaths are deep, his eyes are wild. “Do you want it? Do you want me?”

“A-Always….course I— ” He stops himself, chewing at the inside of his cheek. Finally, he nods and you continue, satisfied.

“Watch.” You titter, reaching down to line him up; carefully gathering slick up at the head of his cock. His tip weeps; shuddering like your stranger does above, getting close and hitching up you up to stay flush against you. His eyes stay trained downward. Inside, he mouths at your neck, groaning once his cock sinks into your fluttering hole.

There’s a tightening grip at your hips, big hands bunching up the skirt to keep you close, with a careful pressure at your clit. That sends heat coursing through your veins, tasting deep crimson in the air. He fucks; up close and humping like he wants to crawl into your skin, with a fervour you’ve never encountered before. It has you hot and sticky, desperate for that biting edge that keeps slipping from dainty fingers. You start to put a hand at your clit, tracing between your bodies when a strong hand pulls it away. Firm.

“No, no, no…” He whispers it, putting your wandering hand to his face, kissing the palm.

“Please. ” You whine. “M’close. So close.”

You feel him twitch inside, hips stuttering at your tone.

“No.” He says it again, resolute. “I’m going to make you cum. Gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart… just… just be patient. Please. For me .”

You’re reaching up for a kiss, of which he obliges. This time, it stays sweet; pink tongues swiped over lips.

“Look at me.” His hips shift, changing angles to hit that sweet spot like you’ve been moulded to his dick - like he knows just where to touch you to make you fall apart. “Look at me, hermosa. Ohh f-fuck, you take me so well… so pretty. You gonna milk my cock? Feels so good around me, sweetheart, like you were made for me. Like we’re ... L-Like–”

You groan, unable to tear yourself away from his writhing form: strong, lean muscles, tensing in the red light. And oh, isn’t he pretty, mere moments away from release, from spilling thick cum inside you.

“M’gonna–”

“I know, I know, hermosa. ” You like the way he says it, rolling off his tongue like honey; treacled and sweet. “Cum f’me, sweetheart. Want to feel you clamp around my cock. Cum for me. ”

And just like that, you’re gone; nails digging into his back as you careen off a steep cliff’s edge. Your stranger quickly follows, pulling out to wrap a tight hand around the base of his cock, spilling onto your stomach as you clench around nothing.

You’re whining, getting ready to complain; why hasn’t he come inside? why doesn’t he want to stay?; when he stills, settling by your side. Propped up by one arm, he crouches down to stroke at your cheek, to touch your jaw, moving your head this way and that - as if he’s looking for something hidden behind bright eyes.

In the red of the emergency lights, you suppose you’re looking for something too. A beat passes, and then another. The generator splutters, whirring and coughing. The lights turn off; replaced by the noise and white lights from across the pool.

So lost in one another, you hadn’t quite noticed; everything else falling away.

He clears his throat, clambering off of the sofa and tugging up his trousers. Quickly, he returns, a bundle of towels draped across his bare shoulders, and then he wipes off the cum - gently, separating sweaty limbs. Your costume is more or less intact, but you’re unable to do more than just lay there. He’s diligent and patient, not in any sort of rush. When you sit up, he pulls on a shirt, kneeling by your legs to play with a loose thread at your skirt. Too intimate, you suppose. With his head on your lap, you don’t think you care.

“We should leave.” You say it first, what’s been left in the air for someone else to pick apart.

“We should.”

“Can’t leave together.” You say simply, curling a hand in his hair.

Humming, he looks up lazily, with a hint of a smile. “You go first.”

Neither of you make a move to get up.

“Mr Ghostface,” You start, giggling. “What happened to your mask?”

“Lost it.” He’s cryptic. Finally, he stands.

Your stranger stretches out a rough palm, and you take it, getting up on shaky legs. You almost collapse onto his chest, but he’s there; solid, stoic. Looking up, and it catches you off guard: the intensity of his stare, how he watches in a way that makes you feel stripped bare.

“You first.” He repeats, still holding on.

He’s pretty. Of course he is, but the shadow and light makes his features even more pronounced. In the quiet, you take the opportunity to catch him off guard; standing on tip-toes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. Jaw tight, he doesn’t react the way you want him to: ever-still, passive. Fuck. You’ve read it wrong: not used to the intensity of this kind of foray. After all: a one night stand seems too reductive, doesn’t quite span the depths and furrows of how your stranger has taken you apart. Finally, you leave the strange man still standing in the pool house. You don’t dare to look, but you can feel him; the weight of his stare at your back.

You can feel his hands, too; the ghost of his touch lingering as you make your way back to the house, mingling with the crowd.

~~~

You don’t tell your friends. You make your back home after the party, bundled into a taxi with a hand tight around your own wrist. It doesn’t feel like his hand on yours - not even close.

“I didn’t actually fuck him yesterday!” Your friend tugs on your sleeve, giggling into your shoulder as she recounts her night. A debrief with the girls turns into hungover breakfast-bleeding-into-lunch at your dorm. They’re bundled onto the sheets, some eating greasy takeout and others nursing bludgeoning headaches.

You’re fine, mostly. A little bit of liquid courage, but your hangover pales in comparison to some - catatonic on your rug and scrolling through their phone in a limbo-like state.

“You didn’t fuck him, but you wanted to.” Someone pipes up, and the conversation devolves into raucous laughter.

You laugh, tucked into yourself. The wonders of a half-dozen sophomores during Halloween - able to grin despite the shit storm that’s been mounting. Campus killers notwithstanding - they make you smile, at least.

“Were you there towards the end?” Someone asks, poking an elbow at your side. “When there was that blackout?”

You nod, simply - not trusting yourself to say more.

“I-I mean…” Her voice is suddenly shaky, thrusting a phone into your unsuspecting hands. “Well… they’re saying it must have happened then, or around that time.”

You squint, confused.

“And it could’ve been anyone, I suppose. There were like, what, a hundred people there? More? ”

“What?”

“A body. They found a body - by the pool house, or something…”

Miguel taglist: @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns

@ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings @aiyaaayei @hyp-oh-critical @tea-earl-grey-thot @sunset-euphoria @moonsio @akiras-key@szaplsdropthealbum@levanneisdumb @naiya-patel17 @Serostapesweat @strawberrymiguel @yumeeesss @errorundyne-exe @spear-bitch @redsoleily @marsissoswag @slezhara @ye4gerzz @adlct515 @nanam1 @indigocookie @cincocosas-blog @starguiders @path0logicalpeoplepleaser@funkyfishy@whoreloll@eugeab@tarjapearce@maddielikesmoths@egotaestical

#miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #kinktober #miguel o hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #kat_writes😼

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lunarobyn22 · 1 year ago

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Here's the fic for those of you who want to read it on Tumblr instead of AO3! (I'm tired so this is my peace offering in place of today's Faebruary post 🙃) Check out @cloudninetonine 's "A Player's Aid" au, it'll give context for this!

Legend Gets What (He Thought) He Wanted

tags/warnings:

Threats of Violence, no y/n, Reader-Insert, Mention of making murder look like suicide, no one actually wants to die so don't worry, The others are there briefly, reader gender not specified, Kinda death threats but not exactly, Legend Needs a Hug, Reader Also Needs a Hug, They both get one tho don't worry, Resolved ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary: Legend is convinced that modern!reader is a traitor and a danger to the chain. He wants to get rid of the threat...Reader just really wanted to use the bathroom, but they somehow end up at sword point.

You all sat by the campfire after yet another long day of long walks punctuated by not long breaks and long fights. You were exhausted, from both the physical toll taken by the day as well as from dealing with Legend’s near constant attempts to make everyone hate you. Heck, you were almost starting to hate yourself because of him. You had to forcibly remind yourself that he’s likely only lashing out because your knowledge of everyone’s adventures probably made him feel vulnerable. You yawned and turned your focus to other things.

Your mind relaxed as you looked around. Your head was leaned to the right on Wild’s shoulder, and Hyrule sat curled up in front of you with his head in your lap. Wind had finally tired of regaling the chain with yet another tall tale, and thus had retired to intently watching Sky as he worked on a new carving. Twilight, Time, and Warriors were conversing in a relaxed manner, laughing at stories of Time’s shenanigans in the War of Eras as “Mask.” They told some embarrassing stories, and Time held a near perpetual blush in his ears and a fake annoyed expression thinly veiling his amusement. Four was quietly polishing his various weapons, making sure they were well-maintained for any future skirmishes. And finally, there was the chain’s resident salt shaker, the Veteran. Legend sat a few feet to your left, not-so-subtly eyeing you with jealousy and what you might label “loathing,” probably because Hyrule had chosen you as his pillow instead of his predecessor. He pretended to sort through his myriad of magical jewelry, but you knew better. You also knew better than to call him out at the moment.

Everyone (mostly) was at peace, full from a good supper provided by Wild, happy from the stories Wind had told, and now content to do as they pleased until it was time for the first watch to start. By your guess, each of the three watches lasted three hours, 9 PM - 12 AM, 12 AM - 3 AM, and 3AM - 6 AM, or just after sunrise, depending on the season. It was about 8:30, and your eyes had been drooping for an hour already. You let your mind wander as you stared into the fire, pondering where the tips of the flames disappeared to as they peaked and vanished, dipping back to the firewood just to jump up once more a second later.

All too soon Wild was nudging you and Rulie back to your own bedrolls as Sky set up for his watch period. You hazily recalled meaning to clean the mud and blood off your shoes as you took them off, but decided to just do it in the morning before you all set off again. It’s not like the stains were going anywhere while you slept. You were out almost as soon as you pulled up your blanket to your chin. You didn’t even hear Wild’s small chuckle as he tucked you in before he walked away to his own sleeping spot.

Your faint dreams of red eyes haunting the dark corners of endless mazes were interrupted by a twig snapping by your face. You inhaled sharply as your eyes flew open to assess the situation, but relaxed once you saw that it was just Sky going to wake Legend up for his shift on watch. He glanced down to you and offered a sleepy smile of apology, which you returned in kind, before nuzzling deeper into your pillow (which was unfortunately rather thin and small, but you figured that even if you had brought a full-size memory foam pillow from home, it wouldn’t stand a chance of fitting into your bag, no matter how enhanced it might be).

You faintly heard the Vet bemoan his fate as second watchman before his blanket rustled and he walked to the fire. You’re pretty sure he intentionally stepped on the same twig as Sky had when he passed by you, but you didn’t give him the satisfaction of a flinch. Through half-lidded eyes you could vaguely see the grouch circle the camp before sitting on a log before the fire and facing the woods that surrounded your camp. He was even more grumpy tonight, because not only was he designated for the worst shift ever, but he didn’t even have a choice as Time forced it upon him due to a particularly scathing remark he’d made towards you earlier in the day.

You tried not to focus on his insults and apparent hatred, you really did, but recently it was getting harder to ignore. His questioning of Hyrule’s sudden loyalty to you turned to questioning everyone’s desire to not kick you out or abandon you to the next monster camp they found. He seemed convinced you were either an evil witch who forced Hyrule and Wild to love you, a monster disguised to destroy them, or even a direct agent of Dark Link (who you’d not-so-affectionately dubbed “Dink”) and planned to betray them all any day now. You, in turn, had stopped vehemently insisting you were harmless, and eventually resigned yourself to simply not rise to the bait of his stinging statements of distrust. You knew he’d been through a lot of pain and loss through his many journeys, but that didn’t excuse his treatment of you. Only your mother’s advice kept you somewhat sane — “bullies only prosper when you give them a reaction. If you don’t react, they have less reason to target you.” And yet, Legend’s berating only continued.

You silently huffed a sigh and turned around to lay on your other side, facing away from the fire. You didn’t really love the idea of turning your back to the one person who very clearly wanted you to cease existing, but you knew he had enough sense not to literally stab you in the back when you were both surrounded by witnesses who would decidedly not appreciate such a thing. Plus, the fire was too bright for your sleepy eyes anyway. You started a breathing exercise, prayed you’d assumed correctly about not getting murdered by your upset comrade tonight, and closed your eyes again.

——

An hour or so later you quietly groaned and sat up. Not only could you not fall asleep, but your bladder was beginning to rebel against the idea of waiting until morning to relieve yourself. The chain had made camp just a ways off from a wide yet shallow creek, and you decided that since you were already awake, you might as well go ahead and rinse your shoes off, too. That way they’d be dry in the morning and you wouldn’t have to worry about walking around in shoes that made your socks cold and wet. You shuddered at the thought and slowly stood, stretching your arms above your head and popping your back, then bending down to pick up your shoes and a bar of soap you’d bought in the town you all just passed through.

Legend spared you a calculating glance from his seat, saying nothing. You simply waved with your free hand and then signed “toilet” before walking away to take care of business. You didn’t have to look over your shoulder to know that he was staring holes into the back of your head; you could practically feel him doing so anyway. You sighed, choosing to instead focus on the foliage you passed on your walk, faintly illuminated by the fire back at camp and the dim glow from a bracelet Wild had given you. He said he’d used a brightbloom seed to make it, and you had been sure to express your gratitude. It was much easier than having to carry a torch, which was not only difficult if your hands were full, but was also very bright to your still-asleep eyes. That, and you’d almost started a forest fire last time you’d been entrusted to carry a torch when you weren’t yet fully awake (once the crisis had been averted, Legend of course claimed that you had done it on purpose, but you were so tired that you just gave him a deadpan stare with a raised eyebrow and plopped back onto your bedroll to resume sleeping).

After answering nature’s call and washing your hands, you sat criss-cross by the creek, took off your dirtied shoes, and started splashing them in the frigid water. It was colder than you’d expected, but everything barring your hands was still warm enough, and it helped shock you to be more awake and aware. You used some more of your soap to aid your struggle against the grossness crusted onto your shoes, thankful that they were made from something like leather, so it wouldn’t be too difficult to clean once you actually got started. As you washed, you listened to the sounds of the world around you, now returned since you were no longer disrupting their peace.

A sound like cricket chirps mixed with owl coos set the backdrop for the soundscape, while the occasional breeze played with leaves and stuck them in your hair. If you listened closely enough and stopped your washing, you swore you could almost hear the life within the flowers and greenery by your feet, the very soul of the land of Hyrule, its perseverance, growth, progress and patience, all poured with a parent’s care into each and every living thing it supported, down to the smallest weed by the creek bed where you sat.

The water before you seemed to whisper, not in the way the Sheikah technology would, but more like it was a living feeling, as if it wanted to impart to you the knowledge it had picked up on its journey to this place. You had heard a story, once, that water could hold memories; that every molecule of water in the world has existed since creation, for it cannot be created or destroyed by those who need it to survive. Every single drop had a story to tell, an event it had witnessed, a place it had once called home. Perhaps some of the water burbling and giggling before you was the same way — some of it might have seen the rise and fall of entire civilizations, the existence of every single hero, princess, and villain up to that very moment — and it would continue to amass these secrets, both big and small, every detail it would pass by, and no one would ever fully decipher its stories, its warnings, its wisdom and playfulness. And even so, it would continue to exist and endure, trickling on through the ages and epochs.

You were somewhat prone to these random philosophical trains of thought, and had thus been unknowingly sitting, unmoving, almost unblinking, in the same place for the past twenty minutes. If anyone were with you, they might have thought you to be having a memory episode akin to the ones Wild sometimes had. Indeed, you were so lost in the wanderings and ramblings of your own mind that you had no idea you were being watched. You had no clue until a sound was made that caused you to spring to your feet with a gasp and reach for the dagger you’d sheathed at your hip.

Legend stood at the tree line a few feet away, posture tense and, dare you say, predatory, unsettling stare boring into your own wide, surprised eyes. “What are you waiting for? Or should I say, who are you waiting for?” You blinked away the black spots at the edges of your vision from standing up too quickly, and relaxed the hand that held your knife as your brain worked to understand the situation.

“What?” you tried to be quiet, still recovering from being shaken out of your reverie. “Why would I be waiting for someone? They’re all asleep last I checked. Ooh shoot, did I wake someone up? I’m so sor-”

“Cut the crap, [Name],” he stood up even straighter, the line of his shoulders taught with anger. “I know you’re waiting for someone to give all your collected information to. Don’t pretend you’re all so goody-goody. I’ve seen the way you ask too many questions, always looking for more details to collect, more ways you can betray us, betray them. I knew you were a snitch, and I don’t know how you bewitched them all to trust you, but they’re all too blind to see it. But I’m not. I see right through you, I have from the start.”

He had stalked closer during his speech, his voice dropping to a threatening whisper you had only ever heard in movies. His approach had caused you to back up until your still bare feet felt the water’s lapping edge. You had dropped your boots, you weren’t exactly sure where, but that was only a vague thought in the very back of your mind. Your eyebrows scrunched together as your mouth opened and closed, trying and failing to come up with a good enough response. You weren’t spying, you were trying to find answers! You came from a completely different world, of course you had questions! He of all people should understand that, and yet he still accuses you? This finally snapped your patience, and you decided to just spell it out him:

“Look, I know you hate me, but this is too far, Legend. I am not some evil being to be defeated like in your adventures, I am not planning to cause trouble for you all, and I sure as anything would never betray you guys, especially not after the trust that has been extended to me by some of you. This group took me in, saved my life, helped me learn to defend myself, protected me time and time again, and I’ve only ever tried to help you, or at the very least not get in your way. I get that I’m not some ‘chosen hero’ with crazy butt-kicking skills, I know that I’m only okay-ish at fighting, not nearly as good as any of you, and I understand that my extensive knowledge of your adventures puts you on edge, but I swear on everything that I’m not a traitor, and the main thing that I just really don’t know is why you despise me when I’ve never even given you a single reason to do so!”

Your voice had steadily increased in volume, not quite to the point of shouting, but certainly not whispering any more. He seemed a bit surprised by your willingness to defend yourself, but he hid it quickly with a scowl and what sounded almost like a growl. You noticed dully that the forest had fallen tensely quiet.

“Oh drop the act, turncoat ,” he spat, “you have never been one of us, and the only reason I didn’t drop you off a bridge yet is because Hyrule would have my hide and Wild would poison my food. But don’t mistake my inaction for acceptance or ignorance. You’re no better than any of the enemies we fight on a daily basis. You’re actually worse, because you’ve wormed your way into my group, my allies, my brothers. You think you’re something special just because you got some of them to trust you?? You’re a parasite, a threat, and tonight is all the proof I need. I knew I should’ve spoken up more from the moment you oh-so-conveniently happened to stumble into our lives. You’re going to regret ever messing with us, and Dark Link will soon know without a doubt that he cannot ever send his agents into my family without dire consequences.”

His expression twisted to a hateful snarl, showing some of his teeth in an almost animalistic display of animosity. Your face, on the other hand, was flickering through countless expressions too quickly for even you to comprehend. You knew some of what you felt, pain, sadness, anger, guilt (even though you had no reason for that one), confusion, denial, and eventually a sort of raging, spiraling emptiness that screamed inside your chest. Your breathing quickened to an almost hyperventilating speed, and your eyes grew blurry with tears you’d been suppressing for weeks. Your hurt, misty eyes locked with a pair of violet, violent, volatile ones, and you realized that he was waiting for your response. His next actions could depend solely upon your response; your very life could depend upon whatever words next left your mouth.

You had tried so hard to be friendly to the group of Links, to not aggravate Legend too awful much. You had tried to help out wherever you could, to not be a burden, to not slow them down. You tried to let the pain of rejection roll off of you like water, to not let it get under your skin. You had tried so, so hard to be one of them; but you weren’t. It was at this point you realized what he’d said without actually saying it — he was afraid . Afraid of losing the only family he had left. He’d already lost his uncle, Marin, the whole island of Koholint, and almost all the people of his Hyrule viewed him with disdain at best and outright hatred at worst. He’d had to leave Ravio and Fable back in his Hyrule, and he never knew when (if) he’d ever see them again. You realized on an even deeper level the true message behind his words — ‘you are a threat to those I love. You are dangerous. You bring pain and that is all you’ll ever do. You are not worthy of any trust, comfort, protection, or love from anyone, least of all my brothers. You would be better off never having met us, having never existed.

You would be

better off

dead.’

You had tried so hard, and yet… You had never actually brought anything to the group but problems. You thought through your interactions with them all, but all you could see is the many ways you’d caused them worry, stress, or even anger. You were another mouth to feed, another bed to pay for at inns, another liability in fights, another person to slow down for as they walked. You were a burden. No, worse: you were a danger. What if they were so busy looking out for you that they didn’t see an enemy until too late? What if you slowed them down to the point where they couldn’t get where they were going in time? What if you drained their food or rupee supplies too fast? What if you got hurt again and caused stress and tension to rise, causing fights and even divisions to break out. You were a problem. Not a traitor, no, and not intentionally endangering, but they couldn’t afford to have you around any longer. And you couldn’t just leave, you’d die within a day if Dink didn’t find and torture you, but Legend wouldn’t be satisfied until he knew for a fact that you were out of their way. Permanently. He didn’t just want you to disappear; he wanted you gone. And finally, with a sinking heart, you realized just how right he was.

At this final revelation, a tear finally did slip past your lashes down to meet your quivering chin. You felt your thoughts scatter like startled deer, your heart thundering in its cage, pounding in your ears, scaring away the life in the forest around you. And you decided. You were a danger. You had no power here.

“I - I’m so sorry , I - I never meant to drive you apart, I -” you paused to hiccup and take a breath. You knew you were breaking, your composure deteriorating, but it was too late to stop. “Legen- Link. If you truly see me as a threat, if you truly believe that I will bring nothing but harm to you, to my-your friends, if…if you think that - that I should - I should never have met you, that I should never have…existed, I…I know I can’t force you to change what you so deeply believe, I -” You gasped a little shuddering inhale, and you made your final decision, the choice that you knew would be your last. You steeled yourself, and spoke. “If you honestly believe that you would all be better off - be safer - if I was gone, if you believe I’m a threat, that I would hurt you, that I - harbor ill intent, then…” you swallowed, still taking short, stuttering breaths. Then you turned around, held your hands palm-outward and arms open to the sides, and bowed your head; you left your entire back and neck, your spine, completely exposed to the man who wanted you dead. You leveled your voice, and accepted your fate. After all, he was an experienced hero, while you were just an inexperienced nobody. He would know what he’s talking about, what would be safest and best; you wouldn’t. He was not prone to emotional decisions; you were. If that was the case, then he was right. You were a threat to your friends.

“If you truly think that I should die for the good of the group, for their safety and happiness, then…then I… I trust you to do what’s right for your family. I would never willingly hurt any of them, I never wished any of you ill but…maybe I do just bring bad luck. Maybe I truly am a curse, a threat, a liability. If that’s the case, maybe - I know I can’t just leave, since Dink is after me and I know too much so - maybe I really am better off dead.”

There was a moment of silence, and then you heard him unsheathe his sword. The back of your neck prickled with danger, but you didn’t dare look over your shoulder. You counted the seconds as they passed, and you realized you had made it to thirty and nothing had happened yet. Why the hesitation? You assumed you’d be dying by now. Perhaps…perhaps Legend feared taking the blame for your death? Causing more division within the chain? Well, you shouldn’t let that stop him if your friends’ lives and safety were at stake. You would do anything to protect them, no matter what. Legend was right, and this had to happen. He had to do this. So why hadn’t he yet? You decided to offer some support, try to speed it along. You were never one for fearing the future but you really wanted this to be over, since you could feel the dread clawing up your throat, numbing your words and preventing any cohesive thought, forcing you to stand still and hear your blood thundering through your ears.

“You could, uh, you could make it look accidental, if you want?” You suggested. “Maybe - maybe I slipped, hit my head on a rock in the creek, maybe I drowned after I fainted or something, maybe I was playing with my knife and - and accidentally hit an artery.” At this point you started to hyperventilate again, desperate, but unsure as to why. “Maybe I was surprised by an enemy, a - a stalfos! - and I was too slow,” you continued, “or - or maybe I was kidnapped, maybe I was gutted by an enemy, maybe I - I just hit my head on something, maybe I had a - a - a hidden injury,” you were nearing hysterics now, “maybe, maybe I just — maybe I did it myself? Maybe I just couldn’t go on? Maybe, maybe I, I just - what if - I,” you lost your sense of words for a moment, “I can’t, I - what about if I just - just - You don’t have to take the blame, you know? You - you could cover it up! Maybe you just were doing your final rounds at the end of your watch and just found me - m-my body, maybe -”

“[Name] are you serious?” He cut through your rambling and you guessed he thought you sounded rather impertinent. You were trying to tell him how to do his job, and you’d kept on repeating what he likely had already worked through in his own mind.

Your mouth clicked closed so quickly your teeth almost clipped your tongue. Perhaps he wanted you to die quietly. You realize you were panicking and might’ve been too loud. Oh no, what if you woke someone up? Then Legend would get caught, and you would be the cause for even more trouble for everyone, and things would get even more tense, and if they were more distracted then they’d be in more danger, then…

…

You were still alive for some reason, although if you hadn’t been breathing so heavily you would have heard someone else’s suspiciously loud breathing behind you. As it was, you continued to hold still, arms sore from being held out, but you didn’t dare move. Even you knew better than to rob a predator of his prey, especially when he is so close to the killing blow. You were no fool, you knew he’d likely planned this for a while, and you knew better than to irritate him further. You just wanted to say one more thing, one final reassurance.

“I only want what’s best for them…best for you. I don’t hate you, contrary to what you probably think. I’m so sorry for any pain I’ve caused you, I truly am…I - I only ask that you make it quick, not for my sake, but if I was too loud a second ago and it woke anyone up and they found you kil-” your breath hitched, “killing me, it — it might make things worse for you all, and the last thing I wanna do is make things harder for all of you guys, I love you all and I—”

“Just SHUT UP!” Legend’s voice crashed through your pleading, and you stopped. And through the suddenly deafening silence, you realized something. Had his voice cracked? You listened more intently. He was breathing unevenly, almost gasping, almost…no, no your soon-to-be-killer couldn’t possibly…

He inhaled deeply and hoarsely whispered, “ Why? How, how could you just, just…” And in his struggle for words you heard something you would never have considered possible.

You had offered to die, just like he wanted, and

Legend —

Link —

was crying .

The man who wanted you dead, who planned to watch the light leave your eyes, was crying.

Perhaps he was just so happy you’d stopped resisting? Or perhaps he simply disliked the idea of causing someone pain? Yes, that was likely the reason; you were still a person, after all, and you knew that the Veteran, despite his callousness, did in fact have a heart (however guarded it might be).

“…It’s ok, Link,” you whispered reassuringly, “I’ll probably hardly even feel it, and if you’re right, and I’m sure you are, then…I deserve it anyway, and…I trust you to do what’s right, because…well, you’re a hero. You’re Link. I’m just… I’m nobody , nothing, so…It’s okay…” You stopped there, you knew he didn’t want you to talk, but darn it you always had a weak spot for people who cried, and you just had to try to reassure them, even if this particular person was planning to send you to meet your Maker a bit earlier than you’d thought you would.

But…there was still no sudden pain, no sword through your chest or severing your head, no sudden hit to the skull, nor were there hands forcing your face into the water until the bubbles stopped, nor any cutting, no slitting your throat, just…quiet sobbing?

Your mind froze for a second, and you held your breath to see whether the crying was actually from you. And it wasn’t. So, you waited. What else could make Legend wait? He was a hero, right? Maybe he just needed to psych himself up? It couldn’t be easy, you figured, literally stabbing someone in the back —

OH! Maybe that was actually the problem? Maybe he wanted to be at least a little more honorable and kill you face-to-face? After all, back-stabbing has a rather negative connotation attached to it. Facing forward and watching your killer do the job wasn’t really what you’d prefer, but it’s not like you had much choice in the matter. After all, he was the one with the sword.

In order to solve this newfound problem you slowly turned around and faced your whole body towards him, eyes closed, arms still out in a sign of surrender, tense muscles still ready for whatever method he would choose to end you. Maybe it would be kind? Likely not, seeing as you were a threat to his family.

Tentatively you opened your mouth and quietly reassured him, “If you want to do it head-on and not with my back to you, that’s…cool too? I-”

“Oh goddesses,” he practically choked on the words, “you…you actually are serious…?” His voice was rough with…emotion? Confusion? But why? You were giving him what he wanted, right? You were keeping your frien- his family safe…right?

Right?

And then you cautiously cracked open your eyes a little bit, and then opened them all the way, and you lifted your gaze and actually looked at him, rather than just listening.

And you saw that he was an absolute wreck.

Rarely seen tears now freely flowed from his violet eyes, and he had to sniff to keep his nose from running too much. His chin quivered slightly and his adam’s apple bobbed as he tried to find words without openly sobbing. He dropped his sword as his posture went slack, a hand raising to cover his mouth, his watering eyes wide with disbelief and something remarkably akin to grief. Your confusion turned to concern for the man before you. Why was he crying? Was he hurt somewhere? Surely that was the case, for no one could change their mind as abruptly as he seemed to, right?

He finally whispered hoarsely, “You…do you really…you’re actually willing to just…let me kill you?” He seemed shocked at your actions, but you didn’t know why. Unless…oh gosh, had you misread the situation?? You weren’t sure how you could have, but what if you did? What if you were the one to make him cry? How awful of a person could you be?

“I — I’m sorry, I — yeah, I meant it, really. I mean, I still do, but — I-I’m sorry if I misunderstood, I really am, I just wanted what was right, and I — I just figured you’d know better than me, that you’re right, but I didn’t mean to upset you, I swear, I’m sorry for making you cry, I never wanted that, I just wanted to keep them — keep you all — safe, but if I—”

“Just…stop… please .”

And you froze. Because Legend…he’d said please . He had never said please in the entire time you’d known him, and certainly not while addressing you of all people. So, you stopped. Your arms were in pain, however, and you risked slowly lowering them so they could lose their pins and needles. He didn’t react. He just brought his fist to his eyes in an attempt to get rid of the tears. He was no longer actively crying, so you counted that as a win. You continued to look at him, confused, but not trying to talk any more. You figured he would decide what to do in a minute. Maybe, you thought, he was crying with relief that he could finally stop fighting you.

And then he finally spoke again, in a very small, very subdued, almost unbelieving voice. “You’re telling the truth, aren’t you?” He seemed to hardly believe it.

No, you denied the small spark of hope trying to take root in the void of your chest. There’s no way. It’s too late. He’s going to kill me. He can’t have been wrong. I’m supposed to die, right?

He raised his eyes to meet yours once more, and it was all you could do to nod in agreement. After all, you had never tried to deceive any of them. You’d only ever endeavored to tell the truth, and you weren’t going to stop now of all times.

“You’re not…a witch?” He seemed to almost be thinking aloud, not actually talking to you anymore, but you nodded along anyway, just in case. “You’re not actually a traitor, are you?” He murmured, “You’re…goddesses, you’re not even evil, are you? An enemy would never turn their back to me, Dark Link would never surrender, but…that means you…you’re just a person…just…” Then, in an even smaller voice and with an emotion you couldn’t quite place, “You’re…just you? Was I about to — to kill — an innocent?”

And at that moment you recognized his emotion: horror.

Link was mortified, absolutely horrified that he, a hero of courage, one of Hylia’s chosen, a bearer of the triforce, savior of realms and countries, Link, was about to kill you, a person who had never actually harmed him or his brothers, someone he’d been so set on not trusting that he’d tried to twist you into something that you’d never been. You had tried so hard to protect them where you could, to ease their burdens, to not cause problems, to bond with them, to ignore his acidic hatred, and you’d been through so much pain and loss, and been targeted by Dark himself, and he still had tried to make everyone reject you. You were traumatized, hunted, injured, afraid, and he still hadn’t held back. Your questions had never been any sort of interrogation, but simply confusion. The trust you gained from the others was simply friendship, not any sort of witchcraft or manipulation.

And, with mounting terror, he finally, deeply, truly realized that he had somehow even convinced you — sweet, innocent, confused, traumatized, eager-to-help, optimistic [Name] — that you actually were the problem, that you should —

Oh goddesses, he’d convinced you that you were better off dead, that you should want to die — that you should just let him kill you. And for some heartbreaking reason, you had not only agreed, but then you’d exposed your most vulnerable points, without any sort of armor or protection, dropped your weapon, lowered your guard, closed your eyes, and told him to do what he believed was right…

You thought he was going to kill the person he should have been protecting this entire time. And you endorsed it only because of ignorant trust in someone who was supposed to be a hero.

And when he panicked, you’d tried to help him kill you .

He looked at you and saw your pain, your sadness, your survival, your resignation, your scars, your desperation to help others, he saw YOU, and not a trace of what he’d so firmly believed you to be. He was planning your death, and you’d tried to comfort him.

And Legend broke.

He did something neither of you expected; Legend, the one who had tried so hard to hate you, vaulted over the small distance between you, wrapped his arms around you, and held on so tightly he thought he might never let go. You had stiffened at first, halfway expecting a knife in your back, but when that didn’t happen you relaxed, almost dizzy with relief and swirling emotions, and you hugged him back just as fiercely. His face was on your shoulder, head bowed so that the fabric of your shirt muffled his increasingly panicked sobs and hiccups. And through those noises you could hear him apologizing relentlessly,

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, goddesses I’m so sorry, [Name] I — I’m so — so sorry, I��m sorry, I was so blind , I’m sorry, I was wrong, I was so, so, so — wrong, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” and so he continued.

You finally breathed for what felt like the first time since he’d snuck up behind you. Your heart was pounding and, now that you held Legend in your arms, you could feel his heart thundering just as quickly as your own. You gently lowered the two of you to the ground, trying to comfort him even as you worked through your own dissolving panic. You held him as if he were a child, gently rocking back and forth as you tried to imbue him with a sense of safe-secure-trust-okay.

“Shhh sh sh shh,” you whispered, “it’s okay, it’s okay, you’re okay, I’m okay, shh shh shhh, it’s okay, I…

I forgive you, Link.”

At this statement he began to sob even more heavily, and your own tears soaked his tunic as surely as his did your own.

“NO! No, you shouldn’t! You — you — I almost killed you!!” He pulled back and looked at you without letting go. “I would have killed you, [Name]! You — you can’t just forgive me! I — I’m so sorry, I can’t ever explain, I — I was so sure you weren’t trustworthy, I didn’t even give you a chance, I — gosh I basically just tried to freaking kill you, and you just…you can’t just — just —” he fell into hysteric hiccups once again, allowing you to interrupt.

“Well then, it’s a good thing you don’t decide what I can and can’t do, isn’t it?” You released your hug to hold his face in both hands, using a thumb to brush his tear-stained cheeks. “I’ll admit…I was, for a moment, scared, but,” you cut off his heartbroken and shattered gasp, “I get it. I don’t excuse what you’ve done, but I do somewhat understand and I forgive you, Legend. I choose to forgive you, Link.”

…

His world stopped in that moment. He stared into your eyes, so open, brimming with tears that he had caused. You shouldn’t forgive him. He was going to murder you, literally stab you in the back, in cold blood, right outside the safety of camp where his own brothers, who trusted both him and you, slept peacefully, placing full faith in him to keep the monsters at bay. And yet here he was, more of a monster than any of their Ganons or Ganondorfs could have ever hoped to be. He was despicable.

And then you even went so far as to offer him a watery smile that tugged gently on the Sheikah scars adorning your face, the scars of what you’d endured and survived. Oh goddesses, you were trying to comfort him — him — instead of yourself. You opened your arms and offered him another hug, and he was suddenly so thankful you were alive, that you were there with him, and that he hadn’t killed you. And he finally, fully, completely collapsed, releasing the pain he’d hidden away for so long from so much betrayal, distrust, and loss, burying his face into your shoulder once more. His stuttering breaths and hiccups prevented him from speaking, from begging you to hate him back, from telling you to strike him down then and there as surely as he planned to do to you, from screaming until his voice gave out simply because of his pure loathing toward himself, toward this monster he had let himself become.

You gently nudged him back toward camp, all the while holding him and tracing pointless patterns along his back, caressing his hair and whispering forgiveness in his ears. You fell asleep trying to keep watch for him by the fire, both of you tangled up in the other’s embrace, resting in the safety of someone you loved.

You both slept soundly and without nightmares for the first time in weeks.

….

And as the two of you sat there after crying your souls out to each other, having realized how much you actually cared for one another, the sounds of the forest slowly filtered back, joining with your sobs in a beautiful melody of mourning and life, shame and forgiveness. Your rivers of tears mingled together and joined the small creek, the whispers of your pain, relief, salvation, and reconciliation joining the water’s ever-increasing library of whispered memories and silent emotions. And it would never tell a soul, for no one could know what it knew; and you would never, ever know just how happy it was to gain your streams of tears and joy instead of the rivers of your life-blood.

And if the third watchman woke to find the two most bitter of enemies curled up together asleep by the fire, tear tracks on their red-splotched faces, hair unkempt and, in your case, feet bare, and if he simply draped a blanket over you both and almost cried himself, well…who needs to know?

#linked universe x reader #linked universe fic #legend of zelda x reader #legend of zelda fic #linked universe #legend of zelda #lu #loz #fanfiction #fanfic #writers on tumblr #writers on ao3 #ao3 #lu legend #the legend of zelda #legend x reader #robyn writes

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