#the americans fic

[cobaltaugustao3]

My constant struggle when writing PWP

[weeknd-ogoc]

AMERICAN JESUS 𐙚 LOGAN SARGEANT

SUMMARY: in which logan feels like you're the only one who believes in him.

(inspired by nessa barrett's song, american jesus)

FACE CLAIM: nailea devora

CONTAINS: spanish!reader, o'ward!reader, lando being messy, small smut scene; unprotected sex, missionary, praising & a small angst scene due to an argument.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: hope you guys like it!! 💙

yn_oward

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yn_oward his blue jean little baby 🫐

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username my NEW favorite couple!

username honey forget about him and look at me, this isn't u!

logansargeant my very pretty girl 💙

yn_oward 😚😚

username how i'm announcing my man

elbaoward FINALLY! welcome to the family logan! 💙

patriciooward you knew?? elbaoward ofc, soy la hermana favorita! (i'm the fav. sister) logansargeant can't wait to meet you guys!

username nah this can't be

williamsracing can't wait to see you next weekend!!

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landonorris 💔 you still have time to delete

max_fewtrell he's kidding landonorris not kidding oscarpiastri is kidding

username why is there so much hate?? you guys are adorable!

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𐙚

"god, i don't deserve you." logan quietly whispered as he hugged your sleeping body just a bit more tighter.

every now and then he would think back to the day the two of you had met — it was really love at first sight for him but you on the other hand, it took you a good while to really notice him.

he was just a rookie and you were the younger sister of pato o'ward who was in the mclaren indycar team, zak brown had invited you to the mclaren garage every now and then so you were hanging out with people like lando and your brother's good friend, checo.

soon enough you were hanging out with oscar and he found this as an opportunity to finally introduce himself to you.

"they're good friends..." oscar told him as they ate and at the table in front of them sat lando and you. "pretty sure lando has a thing for her but she's hard to read so i'm not sure if she does."

logan was ashamed to admit that this moment was when he sort of became jealous of lando.

oscar knew him for years now so he knew how to easily read him, he had a crush on you. "just talk to y/n, she's really sweet so it's not like she's going to ignore you or something."

so when it was time to go logan held the door open for you and you smiled at him.

"such a gentlemen, thank you!" you smiled and turned back around to lando who was eyeing the whole interaction between the two of you. "you've never opened the door for me."

as time went on he saw you show up to more races — you never went into the williams garage but he still managed to bump into you and you guys even exchanged numbers at one point.

"captain america!"

alex and lily saw the little smile that appeared on logan's face when he saw you walking towards him.

they both thought you guys would be so cute together.

"congratulations on getting your first points!" they overheard, also seeing the hug you gave him and how quickly he was to wrap his arms around your waist and gently twirl you around. "i told you that you had nothing to worry about!"

𐙚

logansargeant recently added to his story

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[caption: my future wife and my son 💙]

[tagged: yn_oward]

replies to your story

username omgg are you guys engaged??

yn_oward pls i look like death 🤠

logansargeant hush! you look beautiful as ALWAYS!!

username cuties!

username break up with her

oscarpiastri wow you're a dad before me

patriciooward slow your roll brother, you haven't met me yet.

𐙚

logan sargeant was known to be quite the gentleman but all chivalry leaves his body when he had you sprawled out and trembling as his dick drilled into you at a steady pace.

his confidence in himself had gone significantly down since they chose alex to drive his car in australia this weekend and now there was rumors of a certain boy from formula 2 possibly replacing him.

"tell me again." he whispered as he pulled himself out of you, leaving his tip right at your entrance.

you whined from the loss of the feeling. "log plea-"

"tell me again." he pressed light kisses onto your cheek. "please, i need to hear it from you, always you."

aside from alex placing eleventh in his car and the rumors, lando had gushed to you about his pole position and decided to go find you after he placed p3 just to give you a hug, giving him a smirk right after letting you go.

"i love you and i believe in you."

he pushed back into you right after those words leading you to scratch down his very toned back and lock your legs behind his waist.

"god, i really don't deserve you." he said right before picking up his pace and hitting your sweet spot continuously soon leaving the both of you to see stars.

𐙚

williamsracing

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williamsracing home soil hits different 😮‍💨 #f1

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yn_oward i pledge my allegiance to this man 🫡

logansargeant really babe yn_oward ilyyy !!

username replace him already

alex_albon my captain america 🫡

yn_oward amen logansargeant i hate you guys

username good luck in qualifying!

username 🦅🦅

patriciooward you got this!

𐙚

"i'm such a dumb fuck!" you overhead logan say as he placed nineteenth in qualifying for the sprint.

it completely broke your heart listening to him say that about himself because you knew he had what it took to get into a good position but since the team was always prioritizing alex it was making him lose his confidence.

so it left him feeling uneasy for the next two days because he really wanted to get points in and make everyone proud of him, make you proud of him.

the day of the race you made sure to give him a good peptalk and he nodded along to your words, kissing your forhead. "you're right i got this, what am i even worrying about?" and just before he could tell you that you were his good luck charm, alexandra was calling you due to the girls wanting to meet up to see the puppies together on the paddock. "go. i'll come get you before we have to go back into the garage."

after a good fifteen minutes of girl gossip and the puppies playing together — you had noticed a blue and an orange figures talking in the distance, you knew how lando was towards logan so you decided you should go stop their conversation incase it wasn't going well.

"ugh they're adorable, maybe i should tell pierre to get us one." kika said as she looked at both yours and alexandra's puppies play around.

just a few minutes before that logan had just ended his small discussion with alex and james, he was looking for you but instead bumped into lando instead.

"logan! i was looking for y/n, do you know where she is?"

"she's with the girls showing off our dog." logan emphasized the word our to him.

"oh right, oscar told me about that." he popped a chip into his mouth and patted logan's shoulder. "so when did you guys become a thing? we used to talk all the time and she never even mentioned you guys talking."

logan knew he wasn't the best liked on the grid so he knew you weren't going to get the best support through social media and you knew how protective your brother was over you that you guys decided to keep your relationship a secret for awhile.

"right, i actually asked her out during the mexican grand prix last year and we just decided to keep things quiet."

"so that's why she cancelled our date over there." lando popped another chip in his mouth and nodded. "keeping a girl like her a secret mus-"

"hey babe should we start heading to the garage?" logan felt a pair of arms wrap around him and felt his building up anger, wash away. "hey lan."

"hey, i was looking for you but we can talk later..." he smiled at you and looked back at logan. "well see you on the track and good luck out there."

he rolled his eyes as soon as lando walked off and began walking with you towards the garage to get ready before the race started — you knew that interaction probably bothered him because he was being extremely quiet which was rare for him.

he felt his hands a bit clammy after you handed him his helmet and before he could put it on he gently kissed you. "quit being nervous, you're going to do great."

he nodded kissing you once more. "see you in a bit."

once the race began, you had been watching him through the screen nervously since he was doing pretty good — you had hope he would do good so the both of you could be in high spirits to move into your new condo in new york.

"are you sure you want to move in with me? i drool sometimes." you giggled as logan twirled you around. "and your son tends to snore sometimes."

"i know, you've drooled on me a few times already." he chuckled and nodded. "i don't know i'm going to get any sleep around you guys but i'll manage."

as you focused you attention back into the race you saw kevin magnussen make logan spin out of the race and you knew it was going to be such a hard week for him.

𐙚

logansargeant

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logansargeant we're new yorkers now or whatever 🤎

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username happy for you guys!!

patriciooward i think its rude, you guys never show off my beautiful fur nephew

yn_oward you can facetime him and see him chewing up our shoes patriciooward smh you guys always make that litte man out to be a menace 😭

username i think i bent my phone a little

alex_albon lily is asking for a sleepover

logansargeant y/n said come asap in pajamas

username im glad to see a smile on your face after sunday!

username bye you're so lucky to have her logan

logansargeant i know 🙂

𐙚

after only four days since moving in, logan and you had already had your first fight which resulted you giving him the silent treatment that afternoon.

even though logan tried to put on a happy face you knew what happened on sunday was still bothering him but he didn't want to talk about it. "quit asking, i am fine!" he didn't mean for it to come out as loud as it did and he sighed looking back up to you. "look i-"

you didn't let him finish his sentence and walked into your shared bedroom with the dog following behind you — he pretended that your silence didn't bother him but it did and with all this silence he found himself thinking about the dnf and how this was most likely the end of his career.

he remembered you wrapping your small arms around his waist as he watched the rest of the race in silence. "it wasn't your fault amor."

at least he still had you right?

"it's a landmark day for lando, lando norris wins for the first time in formula one!" he scoffed as he overheard and excused himself from everyone. "it's victory in miami for norris and mclaren!"

he couldn't help but to think about lando — i mean he had a good team an even better car than him, he had the looks, his best friend and he knew the british boy wanted you.

but then he thought lando could never have you because you had eyes on him only and he was always letting his jealousy get into his head that he kept forgetting.

so the next morning you finally decided to leave the room quietly to walk your puppy and saw logan with a pout on his face. you had expected him to come crawling into bed some point at night but he never did.

he watched as you grabbed the blue leash and usually he would tag along but he thought you wouldn't want him around at time time.

and it was his own fault for missing out on it.

"be careful baby." he called out as you start heading for the exit but you just give him a small nod which causes him to slouch a bit. "have fun?"

your silence left him pouting once more and just as you were about to open the door, he sprinted towards you. "please tal-"

“logan, i'm giving you your spa-”

he groaned before grabbing onto your hand. "no. i want you to be in my space and i'm sorry for even shouting, it was so stupid and i did not even mean for it to come out like that."

before he could continue, you had placed a soft kiss on his cheek and nodded. "i know."

𐙚

patriciooward

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patriciooward our monthly family game night was hosted by our baby sister for the first time, 10/10 will be doing it again sometime. 🎲

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username my favorite trio ❤️

patriciooward p.s. if captain america tells you he's a better monopoly player than me, he's a big liar!

logansargeant p.p.s if the duck tells you he beat me in monopoly, he's a big liar! elbaoward please the both of you lost! 😭😭 yn_oward I WON!!! patriciooward yeah cause you're a cheater 🙄

username i should've been your cuñado

username you snooze you lose, get a life!

username lols why was she mad?

patriciooward she wanted to take the picture 🙂

username never thought her siblings would like logan

elbaoward 10/10 aside from her dog being a real menace it was great1

yn_oward told you guys but you guys didn't believe me

username bye i love you guys all hanging out!!

𐙚

at the beginning of your relationship with logan, he was super patient with you after telling him he had to wait before you could introduce him to your siblings because of how protective your brother was over you and your sister.

"i just don't think lando is boyfriend material, he's like a diva..." you remembered your brother showing up to your room one early morning after pictures were posted of you and lando at a club.

"first of all, we're just friends i don't like him and please get out so i can continue my beauty sleep."

you had the biggest fear that your siblings wouldn't like him as much as you did but after some time you told your sister. "he's adorable, i'm glad he makes you happy."

just a month after lando had gone to tell pato about your relationship and your brother insisted on meeting him but you kept making excuses on why it wasn't the time yet.

"y el guero?" your brother asked the next morning and you guys giggled at his morning hair. "you guys don't look any better." (and the white boy?)

you scoffed throwing a pillow at him. "he went to get us bagels and coffee."

your sister braided your hair as she did since you guys were younger. "i like him, he's really nice."

ever since you were little pato had chased off boys that got too close to you and your sister but when elba had found her now husband, he became a little less annoying about who you were hanging out with.

he even tried setting you up with his other teammate david malukas before he knew about logan and you politely declined. "fine but you are missing out cause he's really great and i would approve instantly!"

pato nodded as he rested his head onto your lap. "yeah he's cool i guess."

by the time logan got back he caught the three of you having a pillow fight — he loved how close you guys were so he should probably get used to almost always having them around from now on, not that he had a problem with that because they were actually really fun to hang around.

he even planned to go fishing with your brother next week and your sister had invited you guys over for a sleepover the following week so he could meet her husband.

"i'll tell you what i told alba's husband the day i met him..." he remembered pato drunkly tell him last night. "she's a big girl and i know she can protect herself but i promise you te mataré si la lastimas." (i'll kill you if you hurt her)

right before he could even ask what that meant elba smacked her brother's arm. "he's kidding, he won't actually kill you."

logan chuckled nodding but with the look he was giving him right now he knew he probably wasn't joking. "i would never dream of hurting her."

later that afternoon everyone decided to watch a movie so you were setting up the snacks and logan stopped you, kissing your forhead as he always did.

"you're amazing." he whispered before giving you another kiss. "you're the greatest love of my life."

you smiled and before you could kiss him, pato cleared his throat. "sorry to interrupt this little nasty moment but your dog just peed on the carpet."

𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

© 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐧𝐝-𝐨𝐠𝐨𝐜 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤.

[cobrakaisb]

come one, come all

summary: percy jackson has finally arrived at camp half-blood, so why is he so shocked to see that people have genuine relationships here? aka, the four times percy thought you were dating luke, and the one time he actually asked. 

word count: 3.2k

featuring: percy pov!!, 4+1, vaping (again), sassy man apocalypse in the form of luke castellan, reader straight up not giving a fuck, percabeth crumbs (but you gotta squint)

author's note: i am so sorry for the delay with this one!! i was studying for finals, but now that i'm home from college for the summer, hopefully the updates will be more frequent 🤞

series masterlist ||| previous ||| next

hermes cabin, day one, early afternoon

“this is the hermes cabin, home to both his children and the unclaimed,” chiron explains, walking up to the very loud and very rambunctious building. 

percy peers inside, and he’s immediately filled with dread. there’s barely enough room in the cabin for the people that actually live there, let alone him. why couldn’t his father claim him already? if anything, percy thought losing his mother would have been enough; clearly it wasn’t. his dread only intensifies, however, when chiron starts clapping his hands, calling the attention of all the campers. 

“woah wait a minute,” percy mumbles, but it’s too late. 

“this is percy jackson, i trust you will see to whatever he needs,” chiron announces. 

it takes the campers approximately two seconds to go back to whatever they were doing beforehand. some campers’ eyes linger a little bit longer on him, but for the most part, they’re all indifferent to his presence. finding a spot proves to be difficult, as every nook and cranny is inhabited.

“you can sleep over there,” a girl says, annoyed.

“thanks,” percy mumbles, but it falls on deaf ears. 

the spot isn’t half bad, but it isn’t great either. he’s stuck in between two sets of bunk beds, on a sleeping bag. a sleeping bag. one would think the gods could splurge a little for an air mattress, but percy guesses they must be selfish, at least based on the signs of this cabin: overrun, overfilled, and underdeveloped. he’s unpacking his backpack, the last remnants of his life before his mom explained his paternal lineage, when the whispers start. 

“that’s the kid. i think he’s the one that killed the minotaur,” someone whispers, or at least they try to, but percy hears the whole thing. 

he turns around, and comes face to face with a group of older campers, all boys. they’ve clearly been here a while (in the hermes cabin, or at camp, percy isn’t sure) based solely on the fact that they’re so comfortable in this environment. a tall, curly black-haired boy steps forward, so percy stands up. he tries to size up the older boy, but if it comes to a fight, he doesn’t think he’ll win. 

“look, if you guys want to start something, can you just…do it tomorrow?” he asks. 

the older boy doesn’t say anything. instead, he just takes a moment to look at percy, up and down. percy’s breath catches in his throat when he catches sight of the long scar running from the corner of his right eye to his jaw. he’s intimidating, to say the least. 

“i’m..” the boy starts to say, but he’s cut off by the sound of loud laughter. 

percy turns to face the door, following the older boy’s lead, and sees two girls walk into the cabin. they’re both in workout gear, clearly just coming from a training session, but only one of them moves to drop her stuff on a bed — a bottom bunk in the left hand corner — and the other walks right up to the guy in front of him.

percy wants to warn her, tell her that she shouldn’t mess with this kid. but the grumpy guy smiles at her, completely forgetting about percy.

“busy day?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“something like that,” the boy mumbles, throwing a sideways glance in percy’s direction. 

“oh i see,” she answers slowly, and now both of their eyes are on him. 

“luke treating you okay?” she asks. 

percy gulps, unsure how to answer her. girls don’t really talk to him, but there’s a first time for everything, he understands that especially well now.  

“he literally just got here,” luke says, shoving your shoulder. 

you smile at the older boy, and there’s something more behind that stare, but percy can’t really figure out what. 

“if he steps out of line, you let me know,” she instructs, jabbing her thumb in luke’s direction. 

percy nods, “yeah sure.” 

she smiles at him, before walking towards the exit of the cabin. as she’s at the threshold between the inside and the outdoors, she turns around with a mischievous look in her eyes. 

“meet me later?” she asks. 

“i’ll be there,” luke answers. 

she nods, satisfied, and leaves. percy watches luke, who continues to watch her. his eyebrows furrow. maybe he just doesn’t understand teenagers?

hermes cabin, day two, morning

percy’s startled awake. the deep, guttural voice from his dream still haunting him. the darkness from the nightmare is looming over him like a dark cloud. his gasps and heavy breathing draw the attention of luke and his friends, the former leaving his bottom bunk to walk over to percy’s sleeping bag.  

“you okay?” luke asks. 

percy wonders if he’s genuinely concerned. “super,” he replies. 

“we all get them, y’know. deep, intense nightmares. comes with being a demigod,” luke explains, watching percy struggle to get up from his bed.

“so does adhd and dyslexia. they’re your battle instincts talking. everything that’s made you different, an outcast, is normal here,” luke continues to explain, now standing toe to toe with percy. 

there’s silence between the two. percy wants to ask him about his godly parent. it’s been weighing on him since he spoke with luke briefly yesterday. for some reason, however, he feels like the question is out of line, too personal for someone he just met. 

yet, he can’t help himself: “so are you also…do you not know…are you…”

“am i unclaimed? no, hermes is my father, but that doesn’t matter. we’re all family here,” luke replies, giving percy’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. 

“and the girl from last night…is she…?” percy asks. 

luke chuckles at his uncertainty, clearly finding humor in his embarrassing situation. “no. she knows who her mother is. you should ask her about it.” 

percy nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. he feels angry all of a sudden looking around the hermes cabin. it’s filled to the brim with campers, some who know who their parents are, and others who don’t. he doesn’t think anyone should have to live like this; it’s not fair. 

“how can the gods just bring us here and ignore us? how is that fair?” percy asks. 

luke shakes his head, “spend all your time trying to figure out why the gods do what they do and you’ll go crazy. besides, you haven’t even experienced the best thing that camp has to offer.” 

“what’s that?” percy asks. 

“glory.”

percy’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. he vaguely remembers hearing mr. bruner, or chiron, talk about glory in class, but he can’t pinpoint the exact memory. the way luke talks about it, however, makes percy think that it must be important. there has to be some reason why everyone is fighting for glory, why they deal with all the dangers of being a demigod. 

“demigods used to fight for glory. they called it kleos. it attaches meaning to your name, making you bigger, scarier, and more important,” luke explains, leading percy outside of the hermes cabin, along with a handful of his friends. 

“it puts respect on your name,” luke’s friend, chris barges in. 

percy’s smiles at that. he likes the sound of glory, especially when some girl shoulders past him, pushing his body right into luke’s. percy stumbles, turning to face the back of the girl. he wasn’t going to deal with this bullying crap at summer camp of all places. 

“hey,” he shouts, getting her attention. 

she turns around, immediately shoving him into the ground. percy gasps, staring up at her in shock, but before she can get a word in, the girl from last night is standing in front of him. 

“knock it off clarisse. it’s like his first day,” luke mumbles. 

the girl from last night helps him up, and he smiles at her in thanks. she nods, giving him a once over, ensuring that he’s okay before she turns back to clarisse. it’s like a switch flipped inside her. those same eyes, the ones showing kindness towards him just a mere second ago, are now filled with cold, hard, anger. 

clarisse says something to taunt him, but the girl just shakes her head, crossing her arms against her chest. 

“jealous that it wasn’t you?” she taunts, stepping into clarisse’s personal space. 

“no,” clarisse snaps, facing the other girl head on. 

“really? cause it sounds like you wish you were standing in his shoes right now. maybe then daddy would give you a little bit of attention, huh?” she replies. 

luke whispers her name in a seething tone, hand pulling on her shoulder to move her away from clarisse. however, she jerks out of his grip, continuing to stare head on at the curly haired girl with a satisfied smirk playing at her lips. 

“you better watch your back,” clarisse snaps, looking at percy once again before storming off. 

“and you better watch yours,” the girl, who’s still standing in front of percy protectively answers. 

clarisse doesn’t respond, and so luke takes the time to reprimand you. his voice is soft, and percy can barely hear, let alone register, the words coming out of his mouth. you roll your eyes at whatever he’s saying, barely paying attention. instead, percy notices that your eyes aren’t leaving luke’s lips, and he’s again left wondering what’s going on between the two of you. 

“but if i wasn’t here, who was gonna play hero?” you ask, a soft pout on your lips.

percy can tell you’re teasing luke, trying to get a rise out of him, but the older boy just shakes his head in response. percy watches as your finger reaches under his bright orange shirt, looping through one of the belt loops of his cargoes. luke leans down slightly, and percy thinks he might kiss you, but you step away from him in a fit of giggles. 

“i’ll see you later, counselor luke,” you tease, walking backwards so everyone can see the teasing smile on your face. 

percy makes a mental note not to get on your bad side. 

dining pavilion, day two, evening

“is there a greek god of disappointment, maybe someone should ask if he’s missing a kid,” percy grumbles, taking a seat at the table across from luke and chris. 

after a long day of training, with little to no rewards, percy felt utterly defeated. there was some good that came out of the day’s events, however, as he realized his lack of coordination did not make him a strong candidate for the apollo cabin. similarly, setting fire to the already burning forges had luke and chris ruling out hephaestus. regardless, he just wanted his dad to recognize him. after a life of torment and the loss of his mom, the one person who loved him, he could use the validation.

luke opens his mouth, ready to answer his previous question, but chris beats him to it.

“oizys…but she’s a goddess and her whole thing isn’t really disappointment, it’s failure,” chris mumbles, pushing around the salad on his plate. 

“oh my gods chris, don’t scare the kid,” you shout, shoving his shoulder as you take a seat next to percy. 

another girl follows behind you, taking the seat on the other side of percy. he feels himself going rigid, why are these two older girls sitting by his side? he feels nervous all of a sudden, and wonders if this is normal. he looks nervously to luke, who seems to be the only one capable of providing actual guidance in these types of situations. 

luke doesn’t say anything, instead he’s too busy looking at you. 

“having daddy issues?” the girl on his right, who’s not you, asks. 

“um i guess,” percy answers, but he’s not confident in his words at all. 

the girl chuckles at him, a hand coming up to ruffle his blonde hair, and percy watches as her eyes twinkle with something akin to childish mischief. 

“maybe you’re her step-brother,” she says, gesturing towards you with a tip of her chin. 

“are you a child of aphrodite?” percy asks, because maybe this nice girl is referring to ares as his father. 

you stop chewing your dinner, shock crossing your features. the other three teens all burst into laughter, and percy doesn’t understand what’s wrong with his question. you’re pretty enough, and you seem to possess a tiny bit of mean girl energy (cause only regina george would have demolished clarisse like that). therefore, the logical conclusion is that you’re related to aphrodite. besides, aren’t ares and aphrodite secretly dating? so he’d be your step-brother? 

“what?” he asks, looking around. 

“aphrodite is not my mother,” you answer, white-knuckling the fork. 

“oh,” he says, “so who is?” 

percy watches as your jaw clenches, and you flash a dangerous look in luke’s direction. luke lifts his hands up in a state of defense, as if to say that he didn’t put percy up to this. you, however, don’t seem to believe him as you take one of the green grapes on your plate and chuck it at him. luke catches the grape in his mouth, chewing slowly with a smirk on his face. 

“almost sweetheart,” he taunts. 

you scoff before getting up from the table, with your plate, and walking towards the firepit in the middle of the pavilion. on your way over, you stick your fingers through luke’s curls, and shove his face down towards his mashed potatoes. 

“did i do something wrong?” he asks, looking at the remaining girl to his right. 

“nah, she’s always like that,” she answers.

“yeah,” chris mumbles, “if anyone knows it’s katrina.” 

they jump into their own conversation and percy watches as you drop your entire dinner into the fire pit. the flames turn a deep purple and you nod in satisfaction before walking off towards the cabins. 

he can’t figure out who likes the color purple, but wonders if it had anything to do with luke. however, he knows not to ask.

hermes cabin, day two, night

percy was supposed to be asleep twenty minutes ago, at least that’s when luke called for lights out and everyone crawled into bed. but, he really needs to use the bathroom. poor planning on his part, not going before bed time, but he knows he’ll never make it until morning. so, he gets up as quietly as possible, slips on his blue hoodie, and tip-toes towards the door of the hermes cabin. 

he hesitates for a moment, hearing two people talking quietly outside the door. he waits patiently, hoping that they’ll leave, but their conversation only keeps going. 

“and annabeth’s sure about this?” someone asks, and percy realizes that it’s you.

the other person scoffs, “you doubting my sister?”, and percy pinpoints the voice as luke’s.

“never. i’m doubting him,” you answer.

“c’mon, you know clarisse picks on everybody,” luke mumbles.

there’s a pause in the conversation, and percy thinks maybe you’ve left or moved on, but then your voice rings out into the quiet of the night: 

“i have this feeling that he’s important, but i can’t figure out why.” 

another pause. 

“we’ll see when he gets claimed,” luke answers. 

“if he gets claimed,” you reply. 

“he will, even if it’s hera style,” luke says, and percy can’t help himself from opening the door. 

“your mom’s hera? i thought she didn’t have kids!” percy shouts, shocking both you and luke. 

you jump, and percy watches as you move to hide the bright orange vape in your hand. you wave away some of the smoke, and luke steps slightly in front of you, blocking your body from percy’s view. he notices the protective edge in luke’s posture, and how there was already very little space between you two. 

“what are you doing out past curfew?” luke asks, staring percy down. 

“i could ask you the same thing, but for the record, i’m going to the bathroom,” percy explains, standing his guard. 

“just be quick, and watch out for the harpies,” you advise, tugging on the back of luke’s camp counselor shirt. 

percy nods before walking by the two of you to head down the stairs. once he’s a little ways away, he risks a glance back at the hermes cabin porch. you’re still standing there with luke, his palms resting on your waist as he rubs circles with his thumb on your exposed skin. you two are whispering about something, but he can’t figure out what. he sees you slip luke your vape, but looks away when the older boy takes a hit. 

that seemed oddly intimate. 

lakeshore, day three, post-capture the flag

he’s in for it now, at least that’s what he assumes when he sees half of clarisse’s spear in his fist. she screams loudly, and percy hopes that you’ll hear and come to his rescue. thankfully, his saving grace comes in the form of the head counselor of the hermes cabin. 

luke comes rushing down the side lines, holding the red flag high above his head. several people are following him, the entire blue team in fact, but percy can easily pinpoint you in the crowd. you don’t have a helmet on, which isn’t surprising to him; it fits your character. he notices how the baby hairs stick to your sweaty forehead, yet your eyes are bright and happy. this has to be the happiest he’s seen you. 

your eyes never leave luke, even as he accepts hugs, handshakes, and overall congratulations from the other members of the team. finally, after the novelty of winning wears off, and his siblings finally give luke some space, you walk over to him. you shoulder check him, causing him to stumble a little on his feet, but the happiness doesn’t leave either of your eyes. 

percy’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. you’re mean to luke, but you’re also not mean to luke. 

“where’s my hug at?” luke asks, opening his arms wide for you. 

you snort at him, shoving him backwards with a firm hand on his chestplate. luke doesn’t seem to mind, however, as his smile widens and he pulls off his helmet. he shakes his head back and forth, letting his curls loose after being confined for so long. percy watches you watch him, bottom lip between your teeth. luke opens his mouth, ready to say something, but you prevent him from even doing so. instead, you grab onto the brown leather straps of his armor, and pull his lips down to yours.

all the campers ring out in cheers. some of them even clap at the display of affection from the two of you. 

“so they’re dating?” he asks no one in particular. 

“yes,” annabeth answers from beside him. 

he turns to look at her, understanding washing over him. you and luke are perfect for each other, balancing each other out. percy hopes he’ll find something like that with someone. he looks around camp, and his eyes land on annabeth, who magically appeared next to him. 

“hey wait…were you here the whole time?” percy asks her, feeling a little angry that she basically watched him get his ass kicked by clarisse. 

“percy,” she starts, “i’m really sorry about this,” and she pushes him into the water.

taglist: @percabethlvr @iwantahockeyhimbo @hottiewifeyyyy @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @maraschinocherry3 @used2beeeeee @harrysnovia @cami-is-reading @mxtokko @cxcilla @obxstiles

[aurorawritestoescape]

AMERICAN BEAUTY

best friend’s dad Joel Miller x f!reader || 2,7k

Summary: Joel sees you in a wet dream. Then you make his dream a reality.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, Joel’s pov, horny!Joel, age gap (reader’s in her early 20s, Joel’s in his late 40s), m/f masturbation, mention of f!oral, mention of piv, m!oral, light degradation/slut shaming, swearing. Pics are for the mood, reader has no specific physical descriptions.

A/n: This is for Jett’s Flora and Fauna Challenge 🌸 Thank you @morallyinept for hosting such an amazing event!💜Hugs and kisses to @iamasaddie for the gif in the m/b♥️Javi’s forehead smooch to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing😘 Hope you all will enjoy this filth🌹

Part 2 PLEASE, SIR || MASTERLIST

*****

It’s late. Exhausted after a long work day, Joel is sitting on the couch with a bottle of beer in his hand. He’s mindlessly flipping through channels, taking a sip of the warm alcohol from time to time.

The dark room is lit only by the TV and his pupils jump every time the screen goes black and then explodes with another picture.

A movie catches his attention and he stops pushing the button on the remote control. “American Beauty”. He’s seen it a couple of times, years ago.

He watches a little and then changes the channel. While his eyes are set on an old infomercial, his thoughts wander back to the movie. The iconic scene flashes in his mind - a beautiful girl is lying naked, surrounded by a myriad of red rose petals. Joel chuckles at the irony of him stumbling on that movie but drives the worrying thoughts away. He’s too tired for this.

Soon the exhaustion and the alcohol in his blood take their toll and his eyes close by themselves.

When they open, he sees you. Sarah’s college friend, who is staying with them this spring break. When Sarah asked him if you could crash with them for a few days, he didn’t mind. He was glad that she would have a friend to have fun with.

But the moment he saw you, he knew that he was fucked. When you smiled at him the first time, he blushed like a teenager. You were a knockout beauty. Your voice was the hottest thing he’s ever heard. Your body made his cock twitch every time he laid eyes on you and your sexy crop tops, daisy dukes and bikinis didn’t help. Be damned Austin and its hot weather!

It’s not surprising that he’s dreaming about you now. It’s fucked up but hey, it’s just a dream.

As if his mind is mocking him, he sees you completely naked, while only crimson rose petals are covering your breasts and pussy as well as every inch around you. Some of them are floating around, swirling, dancing in the air.

You look perfect, lying there like an offering to him and he craves to see more. All of you. So he blows on the petals on your chest and they fly away in slow motion, revealing your beautiful breasts. You moan when the soft flowers graze your hardened nipples, and the sound makes Joel’s cock throb with need.

Can he touch you? As soon as this thought crosses his mind he sees his hand splayed on your sternum. He swears he can feel your heartbeat under his calloused palm. He glides his hand to your breast and kneads it. Your lips open and he hears your needy whimper.

He wants to tell you, ‘yes, baby, I’ll make you feel good soon, so soon,’ but his mouth is silent. He’ll have to show you then.

His gaze travels lower, to the heaven of your body, covered by the red petals. He glances up and sees your almost pained expression. Oh how you want his fat cock! ‘I’ll give it to you good, baby, don’t you worry. Spread your legs for me.’ His wordless wish is your command and your legs part oh so slowly, while he’s holding his breath in anticipation.

In front of his lustful eyes, your pussy blooms for him, still mostly hidden by the flowers.

‘Let me see’, he wishes, “Let me in.”

He carefully picks one petal off your mound and throws it away. You pleasantly surprise him when you lift your legs, and holding your knees with your hands, open your thighs wide for him.

‘Good girl,’ he thinks.

In a second his mouth is hovering over your pussy, and the sweet scent of your arousal makes his head spin. He darts his tongue out and presses it to the petal on the crease of your thigh. It sticks and he glides his tongue over it, before taking it out of his mouth with his fingers.

He does the same with another petal, which rests right on your clit. You moan when his hot tongue grazes your bud.

He picks the petals one after another with his mouth, lips, tongue, slowly and deliberately, almost edging you and himself in the process but he can’t help it. He wants to prolong this pleasant moment.

When all the petals are gone, his eyes feast on the sight of your bare cunt in front of him, glistening, crying for his attention. He lowers his face and his mouth latches onto your waiting pussy. The taste, the feel of you make his whole body tremble, his cock aches, desperate to be touched, and the sensation is so strong, he immediately wakes up.

He’s panting heavily, eyes darting around the dark room, his mind slowly coming back to reality.

The TV is still on, illuminating his surroundings, and he sees a wet spot on his jeans. His bulge is huge and his cock is pulsating under the confines of the clothes. He needs to jerk off.

Joel listens to the sounds upstairs but hears nothing. You and Sarah must be already sleeping. He contemplates turning on porn but stops himself. He can just remember what he saw a few seconds ago. It was so fucking hot and looked real.

So he unzips his jeans and pulls his throbbing cock out of his wet boxers. It’s big and hard, ready to explode from the slightest touch.

He holds it at the base, rests his head back against the couch and shuts his eyes. The image of you splayed naked, surrounded by roses, comes back to his mind and he begins slowly stroking his cock. He brings back the memory of his mouth on your pussy, him sucking, licking your soaked hole, gathering your arousal with the tip of his tongue and drinking your juices.

Joel is close and he wants to come inside you. If only in his fantasy. He forms his thumb and index finger into a small circle and brings them to the tip of his cock. Imitating your tight pussy, he slowly pushes the head through the opening between his fingers and moans your name, followed by “Oh, baby.”

“Mr Miller?”

Joel’s heart plummets into his stomach when he hears your soft voice, coming from the hall. To his horror, he sees you standing in the doorway. He’s not sure if you saw him or what he was doing at that angle, but his heart is pounding in his chest. He roughly tucks his hard cock back into the jeans, hissing in pain, grabs his plaid shirt off the side of the couch and covers his tent.

“ ‘s late. Go to bed, sweetheart,” he throws in your direction, almost out of the room, but your hand on his biceps stops him in his tracks.

“Mr Miller?”

His head whips your way,

“If ya need anythin’, just ask Sarah. I’m headin’ to bed.” He takes a step out and you say,

“Don’t I get to enjoy it?”

He freezes and looks back at you.

“Enjoy what?”

“That,” you point at his crotch with your chin, “Your boner. I heard you say my name so… I guess you should thank me for it.”

He gawks at you at first, not believing his own ears, but then his gaze narrows and slides from your face down your body. It’s like he’s seeing you for the first time just now.

A smirk tugs at his lips.

“Oh, you’re a slut?”

It comes out as half a question-half a statement and you reply with a smile, “I wouldn’t put it like that, Mr Miller.”

He turns to you, dropping his hands, not hiding his huge tent anymore, and you stare at it shamelessly, biting your lip at the sight.

“And how would you put it? Cos ya surely sound like one,” he says, coming up close to you. His eyes slide up and down your body, taking in your hardened nipples under a soft tee, tiny sleeping shorts, barely covering anything. Your big doe eyes are staring up at him as you purr,

“I just take what I want. Whoever I want.”

“Yeah, that’s a slut. Maybe I don’t like sluts,” he growls, taking a step and caging you against the doorframe. He doesn’t touch you but the arousal oozing from the both of you electrifies the air.

“Your hard-on says otherwise,” you retort and he takes a sharp breath. “Let me help you with it, Mr Miller.”

You say his name in a sultry voice, and a shiver goes down his spine. Fuck, he needs to come soon or he’ll bust a load in his pants.

Joel shifts his jaw in thought, staring at you. You lick your lower lip, looking crazy hot, and the decision is made. By his head or his cock, doesn’t matter.. .You gave him this raging boner so you’ll have to deal with it now. Morals be damned.

Joel walks to the couch and plops down with a grunt. He manspreads and you come up to him.

“I ain’t fuckin’ you, girl,” he grunts, looking up at you from under his brows. Faking a shy smile, you kneel between his legs on the floor. The sight of you standing on your knees, so obedient to him, makes his cock leak precum.

“Can I suck your cock, daddy?”

“Fuck no, no daddies,” he growls, furrowing his brows at you.

You pout your lips in thought, scratching his jean-clad thighs with your nails.

“Mr Miller?”

He smiles. “Much better.”

“Sir?”

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” his cock practically vibrates when you call him that.

“Mr Miller it is then,” you smirk and unzip his jeans.

He lets you pull down his jeans and boxers to his mid thigh while he’s watching you, his big arm resting on the headrest of the couch, the other hand on his naked thigh.

The moment your fingers touch his stiff length, Joel curses and starts breathing heavily. He tries to keep his cool, but it’s almost impossible.

Your hand wraps around the base of his cock, that is standing at attention, red angry tip glistening with precum.

“Wow,” you breathe out, and he notices a trace of fear in your expression.

“ ‘s right. Think twice before you take on the task, baby.”

Baby. That word does something to you, he sees it. You squirm between his legs, blown eyes set on his twitching cock.

You take a deep breath, collecting yourself, and lower your head. All his muscles tense up as he anticipates the feeling of your warm mouth on his cock, but you freeze midway and glance up at him, beautiful eyes glinting in the darkness of the room.

“Was I a good girl in your fantasy?”

He bucks his hips in need and replies, “Very good girl.”

His tormenting mind brings back the images of you in the sea of red roses and a clear drop of precum beads on his slit.

You smile and murmur, “Let’s see if I can do better than her.”

With that, you lick off the arousal of his fat head and he moans at the sensation.

You start taking him in slowly but confidently, pressing your hot tongue to the underside of his shaft. Your hand is cupping his heavy balls, gently massaging them. You’re already drooling around him and he thinks, that’s what heaven feels like.

“What a nice sloppy mouth you’ve got there, little slut.”

His harsh praise makes you moan around his cock. You start bobbing your head, your mouth moving up and down his length rhythmically. Joel shuts his eyes, as the image of you working his cock adds to the ecstasy and pushes him towards the edge faster and faster. He can’t come so soon. He wants himself forever buried in your sloppy warm mouth. Or in your tight wet cunt. Fuck, why is he doing it to himself?

His balls get tight and move in your palm, and your mouth leaves his cock.

“Don’t come yet. I want it on my pussy.”

“I said I ain’t fucking ya,” Joel growls, clenching his teeth.

“I said on my pussy,” you roll your eyes and add, “Think of a dead dog or something.”

You fucking wink at him and get back to sucking his poor cock.

Your lips and tongue are massaging every inch of his length and Joel closes his eyes again, hastily trying to find something in his mind that can stop him from squirting his hot cum down your throat.

His truck needs an oil change, yeah, he’ll deal with it tomorrow. It helps for a second but then he pictures you all oiled up and glistening. This very moment your face nuzzles his lower belly as you take him so deep in your throat, he feels you swallowing around him.

Joel opens his eyes and sees tears roll down your cheeks, your lips wrapped around the base of his member, your eyes empty and full of lust.

He quickly grabs you by the hair and pulls you off his cock, trying not to hurt you. You whine and he hisses,

“Shit…gonna come.”

“On my pussy, please, please!”

Joel groans and grabs you by the arm, lifting you on your feet. He tosses you on the couch, takes off your shorts and snarls, “ ‘course, no panties, little slut.”

He kneels between your legs, his hand braced on the headrest, the other wrapped around his ready-to explode cock.

“Show me your kitty, baby.”

“Oh, so is it ‘slut’ or ‘baby’, Mr Miller?” You purr, pouting your lips, but spread your thighs nonetheless.

“Right now you’re a fuckin’ brat,” he snaps and you smile, pulling your knees to your chest, just like in his dream. You lift your shirt, offering your breasts for his view as your hand darts to your pussy to spread your folds with your fingers, so he could paint every inch of you.

He points the tip at your soaked cunt, pumps his cock once, twice and the first jet of his cum shoots and lands right on your clit. You whimper into the back of your hand and your fingers get to work, swirling your bud, using his cum as lube. Joel doesn’t tear his eyes off the sight, milking his pulsating cock and giving you more, more, coating your pussy with a thick layer of his creamy load.

You’re wriggling under him, your nipples hard, belly heaving and when one more squirt hits your clit, you come, silently screaming and squeezing your eyes shut in euphoria. Joel sees your hole clench around nothing, and regrets not fucking your little pussy.

He’s panting, hovering over you, drinking you in and trying to memorize every little detail for his spank bank, while waves of pleasure hit you again and again, your body shaking and trembling.

“Oh, sir,” you whimper and he smiles triumphantly.

When your climax subsides, Joel goes to the bathroom. As he’s soaking a towel with warm water, he stares at himself in the mirror. His hair is tousled, face flushed. The realization of what he’s just done slowly sinks in and he curses at the reflection, “Fuckin’ dumbass.”

He returns and hands you the towel. You sit up and start wiping his cum off.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Sarah. Or anyone else,” you say, looking up at him.

Joel nods, and his hand darts to touch your face but he stops himself. You get up and grab your soaked shorts off the floor before turning to him.

“How about we watch a movie tomorrow, Mr Miller?” You ask, coming up to him with a gorgeous smile on your lips that makes him blush. “Same time, just you and me?”

Joel’s looking into your eyes, fruitlessly trying to hide his infatuation with you, and his hand rises to your face. He gently brushes your lower lip with his thumb and mumbles bitterly, “Think I know what movie to pick.”

Your face lights up and you purr with a wink, “Can’t wait to not watch it with you. Sweet dreams, daddy.”

Joel grunts disapprovingly and slaps your naked ass, when you turn to leave. You gasp, looking back at him, and bite your lip.

Before going upstairs, you give him a charming smile and he takes a deep breath.

Yeah, he’s fucked.

*****

Thank you for reading!🌹

Please consider commenting and reblogging if you enjoyed the fic!♥️

Pt 2 PLEASE, SIR || Masterlist

Tag list:@milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @survivingandenduring @missannwinchester @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @littlemisspascal @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild

Tagging lovelies who showed interest in the wip post🌸 @604to647 @fruityreads @joelmillerisapunk @corazondebeskar @janaispunk @bubble-pop-eclectic

If you'd like to be tagged in my future fics, let me know!💕

[hanasnx]

hip to be square.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: themes similar to the movie | allusions to violence and murder | sexual content | sexism | fiancée!reader | dumbification | degradation | rough sex | anal play references | anal fisting reference | drug references | allusions to asphyxiation.

“You’ve worked up quite a sweat.” PATRICK BATEMAN notes in thinly veiled repulsion. Those cruel hands on your hips restrain themselves, and you can feel that tension against you. Instead, he pours his ample strength into yanking you back on him, choked sounds emit from your gaping mouth. In a way, this is an obligation, he can't really enjoy the way your cunt squeezes him, or how his thumbs fit those perfect back dimples—not in the way he wants to. If it were up to him, he'd squeeze the life out of you while he screwed those lifeless brains to pieces. Finally a bitch like you would be put to good use, eyes rolling back as the lack of oxygen grows black dots in your vision. You'd claw at his grip around your neck, easing in to crushing your windpipe, the light would die as he watched, and he wouldn't even falter in his pace. Those hips would still be fucking you, like he is now.

Hard and rough, it hurts. Abusing your cervix as you're bent over the perfect white covers of his California King. You bounce on him like you want more, but in reality you're limp as he directs your body the way he wants it to move. An irrefutable force against you that you are powerless to soothe, unbeknownst to you your only line of defense to protect you from his wrath is the ring on your finger.

You're engaged to him.

In his eyes it was an unavoidable tragedy. All his friends are your friends, you live in his area, and you're a ten minute commute from work. If he's looking to blow off steam during lunch, he'll pop in for a visit and use you up with a pillow covering your head. You don't catch on to the fact he doesn't want to look at you while he ravages you, never question why he insists on hitting it from the back if he can help it. It aids that you've got a nice ass, plump and round and fits in his palms when he handles it. When you aren't being a priss, sometimes you'll let him slip a finger into your asshole. At one point he managed to convince you to let him fist you, but he'd slipped you one to many things that night, narrowly avoiding a messy emergency room visit. There was no way he was going to wait up for you in such a place so late at night. What would he have told everybody? That his fiancée was some junkie? Absolutely not.

Nails dig into your skin at the memory, the salt of sweat burning that raw that makes you mewl. He steels himself from demanding you shut up, instead assuaging the urge by smacking your hand away when you reach back to hold his in a petty attempt to get him to let up. Cruelly, he drills you. Those pathetic noises release in pain, you don't even sound human. "What are you to me?" he spits, looming over your little body as his every muscle contracts fucking into you at a reckless pace. You're sore from his weight, but you can't do a thing about it when being treated like shit never felt so good. A ring of cream foams at his base, taken from you as your cunt confuses punishment for desperation, your expression twisting so hard you'll get wrinkles early. He'll have to divorce you before that happens, otherwise people will think him vain. "Answer me, you idiot, you're supposed to answer me."

Somehow, you don't notice how he's talking to you. How it's different than the cold and distant nature you're accustomed to in public. "Nothing." you breathe out. "I'm nothing." You chase whatever you can get your hands on, scrambling for whatever stupid response you can muster in this state. Apparently, it pleases him, a sea of moans flowing out through his deep voice as he satiates himself using you like a sock with your name on it in his room.

[d0llfaac3]

If totally psycho why sexy??

[anakinstwinklebunny]

JAMES KELLY HEADCANONS 🧰

TW: at some point it contains filthy, crazy sexual content, so if you're feeling uncomfortable with it, please do not read

James Kelly who met you during his work. At first he gave you few glances here and there but as you started to appear more often something started to stir in his heart

James Kelly who, from that time, always offered you his services and tried to bargain his friends so they would give him you as his new customer;

From the very first moment James saw you in his workplace, something shifted deep within him. It was a sensation that swept through his heart and stomach, enveloping his senses in a way he couldn’t ignore. Every time you visited the mechanical engineering shop, his ears would perk up at the sound of your sweet, melodic voice. He found himself irresistibly drawn to you, stealing furtive glances as you nervously tried to explain the issue with your car to his friend and coworker.

As the days passed and your visits became less frequent, a hollow emptiness settled in his heart. The absence of your presence left a noticeable void, making him long for your return. His thoughts were consumed by you, turning over the idea of you being his customer rather than just someone who came in occasionally. So, what's better way to make it happen than to persuade his friends to let him take over your case? “C’mon, please,” he sighed, trailing behind Jackson who headed toward the sink.

“james, I’m working,” Jackson replied, turning on the water to wash his hands, a splash of soapy bubbles momentarily obscuring his skin.

James leaned casually against the sink, his arms crossed over his chest, his posture radiating both confidence and a touch of impatience.

“Come on, man,” he said, his tone a mix of desperation. “Just once. I’ll owe you a favor, I swear.” He tilted his head slightly to the side, his eyes pleading in a way that made it clear how important this was to him.

Jackson glanced over at him, a hint of skepticism in his expression. “And what’s in it for me if I agree?”

A knowing smirk tugged at the corners of James' lips. He was on the brink of winning this argument and he loved it. “You name the price,” he said, his voice steady and assured.

Every time you stopped by the shop, James felt a flurry of butterflies in his stomach, as if his entire body were electrified with anticipation. His heart pounded so fiercely against his chest that it seemed to echo in his ears. He didn't understand it. He didn't even know you that much to have some kind of 'crush' on you. But maybe that's the case? Maybe people don't have to know each other so much to be attracted to them. He just wished he'd not mistake himself in thinking about you more as some customer, more as just friend.

Yet it felt like he won a lottery; you were beautiful, seemed so sweet and kind, had a sense of humor.. and the moment you appeared, a wide, genuine smile would spread across his face. He made a concerted effort not to stare too long, but even his best efforts couldn’t entirely tame his wandering gaze.

“Um… hi, is Jackson here?” your sweet voice chimed, cutting through the noise of the shop.

At the sound of your voice, James' heart skipped a beat, just as it did every single time you came around. He looked up from his work, his blue eyes instantly drawn to your figure

“Ah, no, he’s not in today,” he replied, his voice warm and inviting. “Can I help you with something?”

“Oh… he was supposed to check my car,” you said, a hint of disappointment in your voice when you pointed to the black machine behind you

He noticed the subtle disappointment in your voice and gave a small nod, seizing the chance to spend more time with you.

“Well, I’m not doing anything important right now, so I could take a look at it if you don’t mind,” he offered, his tone both casual and eager.

You thought about it for a moment. Jackson's not here, yet he promised to be there, your car in huge need to be checked out, a tall, handsome-looking guy with veiny hands in oil.. “Sure,” you replied, a hint of relief in your voice at his offer. It was important for you. So your car would have a proper care it needs and if someone offers you help and seems genuine about it, why refuse?

He pushed himself up from the hood of the other car he’d been leaning on and looked at you, taking in your slender form once more, your striking (e/c) eyes, and those plump lips that always seemed to captivate him.

“May I get your keys?” he asked, extending his hand in an attempt to appear as nonchalant as possible and forget about the awkward moment

You handed him the keys, and as he took them from your hand, he felt the soft warmth of your skin against his. His gaze followed the gentle graze of your fingers over his palm, which seemed to send a shiver through his body. He swallowed thickly to brush it off. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable and think of him as a perv

“Alright, I’ll take a look at it,” he said, already heading toward your car with a sense of purpose. Over his shoulder, he called out, “And you’re… Y/N, right?” He feigned uncertainty, though he obviously knew your name perfectly well

“Yes, did something happen?” you asked, your curiosity piqued with hint of worry

James inserted the key into the ignition, but he didn’t start the car. Instead, he popped the hood and peered inside at the engine.

“No, no,” he began, his voice thoughtful as he leaned over the opened hood, his tongue briefly touching his lower lip as he considered his words. After a moment, he sighed. “Jackson’s been swamped with clients lately, so he handed off a few to me… and you’re one of them.”

“Oh…” you replied, a bit surprised by the news.

He leaned further into the car, reaching for something under the engine. In this position, he had an unobstructed view of you—one that made his thoughts wander more than he cared to admit. He grasped a specific tool and began working on the engine, trying hard to focus on the task rather than the fact that you were so close.

“Yeah, I hope you don’t mind that it’s me taking care of you,” he said, attempting to lighten the mood. “I mean, not you personally, but… your car.” his tone slightly nervous. Yet to his surprise, you giggled at his awkwardness, the sound bright and uplifting his slightly crashed mood from moments ago

James Kelly who dyed his hair when he found out you like guys with darker hair at the beginning of your relationship (although you were sad that he did it and felt bad for somehow 'pushing' him to this decision)

James Kelly whose evenings often involve hanging out in his garage. It’s where he’s most at home, and he loves having you there with him. You might sit on a stool, sipping coffee while he works, occasionally handing him tools or just enjoying his company as he explains the nuances of car repair in his unique, enthusiastic way.

James Kelly who has a 'mechanic’s touch'. His hands, skilled and gentle from working with delicate engine parts, translate into tender, careful touches when he’s with you

James Kelly who has a soft spot for personal projects, especially ones that involve old, classic cars. He loves restoring vintage vehicles, and he often involves you in these projects;

James' eyes widened in awe as the old car was wheeled into his workshop. It was a vintage marvel, the kind of machine that whispered tales of a bygone era. The worn, weathered metal seemed to glow under the workshop lights, and his fingers twitched with impatience, itching to trace every curve, every detail of the car that had captured his imagination.

“Hell yeah,” he murmured, his voice a low, reverent whisper. A satisfied grin crept across his face as he took in the car's elegant lines and timeless design. “Look how beautiful this baby is.”

You glanced at the car, a little less impressed. “It’s… okay,” you mumbled, your voice lacking the enthusiasm he clearly felt.

His head whipped around to face you, disbelief etched into his features. For a moment, he just stared, as if trying to comprehend how anyone could see this masterpiece as merely okay. Then, with a snort and a roll of his eyes, he let out a soft chuckle.

“Okay?” he echoed, his tone almost incredulous. “This baby is a classic masterpiece. You’re looking at a piece of history, something built with passion and precision. There’s nothing just okay about it.”

His eyes sparkled with excitement as he turned back to the car, already envisioning the work he would do. To him, this wasn’t just a car—it was a labor of love, a chance to bring a piece of history back to life.

"Jimmy," you sighed, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his chest. "I’m just not as into cars as you are."

He felt himself soften at your touch, almost melting into your embrace. But before he could fully surrender to the warmth of your hug, he let out another amused snort. With a gentle hand, he lifted your chin, tilting your face up toward him so your eyes met.

"You’re hopeless," he teased, his tone light and playful. He leaned down and pressed a quick, affectionate kiss to your forehead, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"At least tell me I’m more beautiful than this car," you quipped, your voice laced with a hint of mock seriousness.

He chuckled softly, his hand moving to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing tenderly over your skin. His eyes, a deep and vibrant blue, gazed into yours with a warmth that melted your insides. They were filled with soft, gentle affection, a look reserved only for you.

"Oh, doll," he murmured, his voice full of sincerity. "You’re way more beautiful than this car. You’re more beautiful than anything in this world."

You smiled when your lips connected in a soft kiss. Every time he was around you, it felt like fireworks were exploding in your stomach, a rush of excitement that never faded. The sensation of your skin against his, the softness of your form wrapped in his embrace, and the subtle, enchanting scent of your hair—it was all intoxicating. You were his personal addiction, a perfect drug he couldn’t get enough of, and each touch, each kiss only deepening his need for you.

“So…” he murmured, reluctantly pulling away just enough to rest his chin on your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck, “…what color should we make this car?”

A playful grin spread across your face. “Pink.”

Anakin chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest although something changed in his expression, “Pink? Really? Not red, orange, or yellow, but pink?”

“Why not?” you shot back with a teasing glint in your eyes.

"It's just… wrong on so many levels. Sorry, baby, but this is not a damn Barbie car," he muttered with a shudder, a grimace twisting his features as if the very thought of turning a classic car pink physically pained him.

"But it'd be pretty," you replied with a sweet smile, undeterred.

He stared at you, still processing the idea that you seriously wanted to paint this car pink. His mind struggled to reconcile the vision of a tough, masculine machine with the image of it decked out in pastel colors.

"This car is supposed to be badass," he said, his tone laced with disbelief. "A tough, masculine car. And you just… want to paint it pink?"

You bit your lip, holding back a laugh, and then smiled up at him with wide, innocent eyes. "A cute, baby pink shade… with glitter and jewels."

His soul practically left his body as you listed all the things you wanted to do to the car. He couldn’t believe you wanted to turn a classic, vintage masterpiece into something straight out of a fairytale.

“Are you kidding me? This is a vintage car, baby, and you want to make it sparkle like some kind of princess carriage?” he pleaded, his voice heavy with disbelief. He let out a long, weary sigh, already feeling the inevitable pull of giving in to your whims. Was he really going to agree to this just because he was hopelessly in love with you and couldn’t bear to see you anything but happy?

“Oh, please!” you chimed in, your tone sweet and persuasive.

He looked at you, a pout forming on his lips, his heart caught in the tug-of-war between his love for the car and his love for you. The way you didn’t quite grasp his distress—and the way you so innocently asked for a pink car—left him unable to say "no" outright.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, y’know that?” he grumbled, running a hand through his hair in exasperation.

Your innocent smile only widened, the sparkle in your eyes growing brighter.

He just stood there for a moment, staring at you, trying to find the strength to resist. But finally, he let out a sigh so deep it almost sounded like a defeated groan.

“i am not going to spend hours trying to make this car look decent in freaking pink,” he muttered, shaking his head. “And I swear to god, if you even mention glitter or jewels one more time, I’ll lock you in this workshop and won’t even think about letting you out.”

“Now that’s rude,” you pouted, crossing your arms

James mirrored your stance, crossing his arms over his chest as well, his gaze fixed intently on you. He raised an eyebrow, feigning annoyance, though the small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips betrayed him.

“Oh, and it’s not rude to demand that I paint this car in the most atrocious color and slap glitter on it?” he shot back, his voice dripping with mock indignation.

“If not this car, then another one? Pretty please?” you countered, your tone softening as you tilted your head and gave him those puppy-dog eyes that always seemed to work like magic.

He let out another sigh, the kind that hinted at resignation, but there was no hiding the fond smile that crept onto his lips. You knew he could never resist when you looked at him like that, with those wide, pleading eyes and that sweet, hopeful tone. It was his kryptonite.

“Which other one then?” he murmured, his voice softening as his resolve melted away completely.

James Kelly who loves to show off his work to you since he feels like you're really proud of him

James Kelly who's your one and only engineering. If anything is broken, you call Anakin. If anything needs repair, you call Anakin. If you have to put new furniture together, you call Anakin

James Kelly whose protective nature extends to ensuring your safety. He would always check your car to make sure it’s in perfect condition;

“jimmy, the last time you checked my car was three days ago. Nothing has happened since that day” you said, watching as he anxiously inspected your car, determined to ensure it was in perfect condition.

He straightened up, his expression serious as he leaned against the car with his arms crossed. His eyes held a flicker of concern, betraying the worry he tried to hide.

“You can never be too sure,” he replied firmly, though it was evident he was slightly exaggerating. He ran a hand through his dark hair, ruffling it as he sighed with frustration.

“I just want you to be safe, you know? Let me take care of the car and make sure nothing happens to you,” he muttered, each word underscoring his deep protectiveness.

“You make me think about riding a bike,” you said, rolling your eyes at his overprotectiveness.

“You’d look hot on a bike,” he responded with a wide smirk, his blue eyes locking onto yours with playful admiration.

“Oh, stop. Just—check the car and let’s go,” you said, trying to cut off the conversation.

“Sure, my lady"

James Kelly ho loved to test his motorcycles he fixed;

James had just finished working on the engine of the motorcycle, his hands smeared with grease and oil stains. He wiped them on a dirty cloth, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. There was something about being surrounded by machines that made him feel like a kid again—pure, unbridled joy bubbling up inside him. His eyes traveled to the shiny, black motorcycle, admiring the way the lights danced across the gleaming metal. His body buzzed with excitement at the thought of taking it for a spin.

“Now, it’s for your safety,” he said firmly, as he carefully placed a helmet on your head. “I’m not risking your health nor your life.”

The very idea of something going wrong on the ride—the possibility of an accident—sent a wave of anxiety crashing through him. His stomach tightened, and his heart clenched with worry. He couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to you, not when you meant everything to him. So, even if you were just sitting behind him, he wanted to make sure you were as safe as possible.

He swung his leg over the seat, straddling the motorcycle with practiced ease, and settled in comfortably. With a quick flick of his wrist, he started the engine, the loud, roaring rumble filling the air and sending a powerful vibration through his entire body. “Hop in, pretty girl,” he called out over the noise.

You climbed on behind him, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. The moment he felt your body pressed against his back, and your arms encircling him, a sense of contentment washed over him. The warmth of your breath against the back of his neck sent a shiver down his spine. It was one of the best feelings in the world—having you right there with him, close enough that he could reach out and touch you whenever he wanted.

“now hold on tight, doll,” he shouted over the roar of the engine, his voice laced with excitement, as he revved the motorcycle, ready to take off on the open road.

James Kelly who has little rituals that revolve around his work and you. For example, he would always start his day with a quick text to check in on you, and end it with a call to check if youre alright or just to hear your voice

James Kelly who made matching necklaces for both of you

James Kelly who's a big dog person. He'd very often stop by to stroke local dog (if it doesn't have an owner by itself) or gives food if some are wandering around his workplace

James Kelly who used, to your dissatisfaction, shower gel 3 in 1..and even if you've bought him more suitable and better shampoo, he had never used it due to his opinion that 'his shampoo is better and costs less'

James Kelly who had become completely devoted to you, giving all his attention and heart to you. He would do anything to see a smile on your lips and a sparkle in those beautiful eyes of yours. He'd do anything to make you happy, no matter what's the cost. He'd even go against everything and everyone for you if he'd have to

James Kelly who definitely talks you through it

James Kelly who loves to make love to you (obviously) however he, as much as adores sex in bed, he also likes the thrill of making it in the empty workshop..;

"someone could see us" you - tried to - say between moans, your cheeks flushed pink while you held onto James' arms

As often as he does, James ignores your concern, his eyes locked onto yours as he continues to pound into you with no care in the surroundings. "Shh, just let go, sweetheart. No one's around. We're alone out here". he grabs your hips and starts slamming into you harder, the car hood creaking beneath you.

His breath hitches as he feels your nails digging into his skin, his thrusts becoming even more frantic. He almost takes as his goal to hit this sweet spot of yours like he always does. He leans forward, his forehead pressing against your neck as he speaks in a rough, desperate voice. "Yeah..just like that baby..gonna mark this car with your little pretty body..and--oh god--" he groaned after feeling your walls clench and hug him so deliciously "when we're done..whenever I'll look at this car I'll just see your pretty face, those beautiful legs all spread out and waiting for me--"

James Kelly who has a habit to just have you in his lap, while your naked, and play with your breasts. Enamoured by your deliciously perfect taste, he can't help but trace the puffy skin to delicately spread his saliva all over your nipple before taking it back again for the hundreds of time to his mouth, as if almost worshipping your flavour

James Kelly who would definitely finger you while watching TV;

"So wet for me, baby" his fingers glide over your folds, spreading your slickness around in slow, teasing strokes. "Do you want me to touch you here?" his voice rumbled against your ear

"mhm--"

His grin widens, and he slowly slides one finger inside you, his touch gentle yet firm. "Just one to start, alright baby?" He begins to slowly move his finger in and out, his thumb circling your nub. "You're so tight...you like that? Just one finger?"

He tuts disapprovingly to your nod, slowing down his touch although his tone turns into chiming-mocking. "Eyes on the screen, love". He punctuates his words with a slow thrust of his finger "Good girl.." he praised after seeing you submit to him and to give you a prize, he sped up his touch once more, adding another finger and curving them inward to hit that spot. His actions elicited more gasps and moans from your mouth

"Shh, baby...quiet now". He adds a third finger, scissoring them inside you as he rubs your clit with his thumb. "Gotta hear the dialogue..." He whispered directly to your ear

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @ysrjune (sad about her not being her anymore..) @divineani @erosmutt @haydensprettyprincess @mistress-amidala @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker

(if you want to be removed or added then don't be shy and let me know 💋)

[redroses07]

real shit

[firehose118]

easy come, easy go

Buck and Tommy are well on their way to christening Buck's new couch. He'd bought the longest, deepest couch his loft could accommodate in the hopes of doing exactly this; laying on his back under the weight of Tommy's body, one leg hooked around Tommy's hip to keep him grinding in close.

Buck gets Tommy's shirt up and off of him. He wants to feel those powerful muscles under his hands, wants to stroke and squeeze and memorize every inch of Tommy's back.

Tommy cradles his face with one hand and kisses him like there's nothing else in the world he would rather be doing. It's heated, passionate, but there's no urgency. They have matching 72s off for the first time in months. They don't have any plans for the next three days beyond the languid enjoyment of each other.

That was, perhaps, their mistake. The first responder gods see quiet as a challenge, after all.

Buck doesn't hear the first knock. It lands against his door at the same moment Tommy sucks on his tongue and he moans loudly enough to drown it out.

The second knock he hears, barely, but he doesn't really register what it means. He's lost in the hot pleasure of Tommy Tommy Tommy all around him, taking over every one of his senses. It's not until Tommy pulls away from his mouth that he gets any of his bearings back.

"Are you expecting anyone else, sweetheart?" Tommy asks, gently teasing. He leans back down for a lingering, open-mouthed kiss.

Buck shakes his head when they part again. "Just you."

Tommy smiles and raises his eyebrows as the third knock sounds. "Are you gonna answer it?"

"Oh." Kiss-drunk and stupid, that honestly hadn't occurred to Buck. "Y-yeah, I probably should. I'll be quick! Don't go anywhere."

Tommy sits up and lets Buck get off the couch. "Wouldn't dream of it," he says.

He leans back on the couch, his muscles shifting under his skin as he settles on his side; a god in repose. Buck wants to say fuck it and dive back into Tommy's body, let whoever is at the door just go away, but he's already standing up so he should at least try to be normal about this.

It's probably a neighbor or a delivery driver with the wrong apartment number. Buck will set them straight and get back to Tommy, thirty seconds max.

The last person he expects to see on the other side of the door is Eddie. Not because it's rare for him to show up out of the blue, but because he usually just lets himself in after the first knock.

And god, Buck keeps forgetting about the mustache.

"Sorry, I don't have my key," Eddie says as he walks right in. 

"Uh, hey- hey Eddie." Buck exchanges a quick look with Tommy, who stands up from the couch like he's fleeing the scene of a crime. He looks just as confused as Buck is.

There's no hiding what they were doing. Tommy's hair is a mess, he's still shirtless, and Buck is pretty sure there's a visible hickey forming on his own neck. Eddie doesn't take any of this as a sign that he's interrupting. If he has any awareness of the fact that his friends were in the middle of something, he doesn't show it. He heads straight for Buck's fridge to get a beer.

“Wow,” Tommy says, stepping closer and taking in the mustache. “I guess it’s been a while since I’ve seen you. That’s a new look.”

“I’m trying something out,” Eddie says, frustrated by the bottle cap. Wordlessly, he hands the bottle to Buck who twists the cap off without issue and hands it back.

“It looks good,” Tommy says. “Classic.”

“No, no, don’t encourage him,” Buck pleads. “We’ve been trying to get him to shave it for days.”

First, Eddie had grown a beard. It was a classic depression beard, but it looked good. Eddie always looked good with a bit of stubble, and the full beard really worked on him. Then Gerrard had informed him with an infuriating smirk that it was against regulation. Eddie had looked to Buck in panic, knowing Buck still had the regulations memorized from his fire marshal days. Buck had to nod reluctantly.

"Mustaches are okay but beards interfere with the seal on the respiratory equipment," Buck had recited. He'd regretted it the moment those words left his mouth as he saw the idea spark in Eddie's eyes.

So instead of shaving his face clean, Eddie left the mustache. Hen said it was the equivalent of getting bangs after a breakup, but Buck didn't know what that meant.

It's been a group bullying effort ever since, with everyone at the 118 pulling their weight. Every day, a new nickname. Every day, more and more insinuations that Eddie was doing porn in his free time. Eddie had stopped responding to it at all. He was holding onto this mustache like a lifeline.

"What?" Tommy scoffs, sounding genuinely confused. "Why would you want him to shave it? He's pulling it off."

"Thank you," Eddie says, gesturing at Tommy. "Finally someone gets it."

Buck looks at Tommy in horror. The same tongue that spoke those words had been in his mouth mere minutes ago. "Traitor."

Tommy just shrugs and goes looking for his shirt. He seems to have accepted that Eddie won't be getting the hint.

"I'm having a crisis, guys," Eddie groans. He's leaning his knuckles against Buck's island counter.

"That much is obvious, Eddie Mercury," Tommy deadpans as he finally finds his shirt under the stairs.

Oh fuck, how had they missed that one? Even Chim hadn't found his way to that nickname. Buck goes to send that to the 118 group chat but realizes his phone is across the room. He'd taken it out of his pocket when Tommy had pushed him flat onto the couch and covered Buck's body with his own.

"I'm gonna choose to take that as a compliment," Eddie says. "But I'm serious. I- I got a call today from Christopher's school. They want to know if he's coming back next year."

"What'd you tell them?" Buck asks.

"I told them I don't know, because I don't. They said if I don't get back to them within the next week they can't hold his spot. And I get that, it's a specialized school with a long waiting list and if Chris isn't there to take advantage of that someone else should get to, but you know how hard I worked to get him in. I- I don't want to risk him losing his spot just because he's mad at me."

This can't be my fault too, Buck hears.

"You should call him," Tommy says. "Let him know what's going on."

Eddie rubs a hand over his face. "I don't want to pressure him, though," he says. "I don't want him to come back before he's ready because he feels like he has to and have him resent me for it."

"I think he'll be happier if he gets to make the decision," Buck says.

"You can tell him you'll respect his choice no matter what, take the pressure off that way," Tommy agrees. "Tell him that you won't be mad if he lets this opportunity go, but let him be in charge of his future. Show him you trust him with something like this."

"Don't FaceTime him, though," Buck jokes. "He'll see that mustache and stay in Texas where he's safe far, far away from it."

Eddie smiles softly at that. It's the first positive response he's had to the teasing about his mustache.

"You're right. Thank you, guys. That's exactly what I'm gonna do," Eddie says. He drains his beer and starts walking to the door.

"Uh, hold up," Buck says. Eddie has only had one beer but he seems a little out of it, a little unstable. "You sure you're good to drive?"

"I didn't drive here," Eddie says simply, waving away Buck's worry. "You two guys have a good night."

And with no further explanation, Eddie is out the door; leaving as quickly and bafflingly as he arrived.

Tommy looks at Buck with his mouth slightly open, processing.

"Should we be worried about him?" Buck asks. He crosses the kitchen to press himself against Tommy's side.

"Oh, absolutely," Tommy says. "That mustache is a cry for help if I've ever seen one."

Buck's mouth falls open. "You said it looks good!"

"It does. I wasn't lying when I said he was pulling it off. That doesn't mean it's a sign of mental stability."

Buck hums in agreement. "We'll do lunch with him tomorrow. Check in." He leans into Tommy, desire buzzing under his skin where their bodies touch. "What if I grew a mustache? Do you think I could pull it off?"

Tommy looks over his face, considering. "I don't think it would go with your new fuckboy haircut." He runs a hand through Buck's hair, smoothing his thumb over one of Buck's missing sideburns.

"You like my new fuckboy haircut," Buck flirts, melting into Tommy's touch.

"Mmm, I love it," Tommy confirms. He pinches Buck's cheek affectionately and places his other hand on Buck's hip.

Buck meets Tommy halfway when he leans in for a kiss and decides he can worry about his friend in the morning. He has a new couch to break in. 

{give me kudos!}

[theminecraftbee]

Etho and Grian are back at base, hysterically laughing over their achievement. Cleo sits inside, staring, as the two of them talk about getting a wither and a warden to fight, and tries to figure out what she feels about it.

In some ways it's not their fault. Task made them do it and all that. Plus--

Well, it's not like she and Etho are losing hearts anytime soon. They've both done a damn good job keeping themselves from dying. A benefit, Cleo thinks, of deciding to team with Etho this time. Between the two of them, they'll largely only do chaos they can recover from. Maybe this is their game. Maybe this time, Cleo manages to stick with someone until the very end. It looks like it. It looks like...

Grian, of course, is the confounding factor.

She wasn't going to turn him away. He needed allies. They needed someone a bit better at actually doing damage than herself or Etho. It's mutually beneficial. And, besides, he's weirdly lovable, in an inherently kind of dangerous way. A little like loving a bobcat someone had accidentally raised as a pet cat until it got a bit too big and stinky and murdery for them. Like, yeah, he shouldn't be domesticated and he's not, really, in any sense of the word, but it's a bit sad to watch him try to survive on his own now, right?

Hah. Maybe that's what Scar managed to do to him. Would explain a lot, really.

Anyway, he's her bobcat now, which is the problem.

See the thing is: Cleo understands Etho. It's why finally deciding to be partners for once felt... right. They're similar flavors of people. Scared, mostly. Survivors, but not in the 'will stab anyone' way that like, Martyn is. Loyal, although Cleo has no delusions that Etho is as loyal as she. And scared. Has she already said that? Scared. It's important to the kinds of things she and Etho are. Like... mountain lions, maybe. Mountain lions that have been around just enough people to know how dangerous they are. Like that.

God, she's only doing cat metaphors. Bdubs really is turning them all into furries.

Anyway, the point is, Grian isn't scared.

And that... terrifies her.

That's scarier than anything else. Because, see, Cleo wants to survive. But more than that, she wants her partners to survive. And she and Etho, the two of them are doing well. Better than most people. They're green and they have so many hearts.

But Grian? Grian's yellow and not afraid and goading Etho into not being afraid too. It's not their fault, exactly, Cleo thinks. They both had hard tasks. They didn't have a choice, Cleo thinks.

But. But.

She doesn't know what to do, if Etho gets convinced the humans down the mountain aren't scary. She doesn't know what to do if he gets too close. She doesn't know what to do if he gets hurt.

Because she--she doesn't think she can learn to stop being scared, anymore.

But she also doesn't know how many times her heart can stand to lose someone.

Did you know--wild cats are social? They have a reputation for being loners, but mountain lions, they're social. They don't do well being alone. They don't actually hunt solely alone. That's the important bit here. They seem independent, sure, but actually...

Anyway. This is Bdubs's fault. For making her a furry, apparently.

She watches Grian and Etho scheme together and sits back and breathes and tells herself that Etho isn't going to stop being afraid anytime soon. That if push came to shove, he, at least, would retreat back, and that maybe the two of them could convince Grian to retreat too. Safe from hunters. Safe from red.

Maybe safe from hurting each other, too.

(She's not so sure about that part.)

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Aussie Athletes

♥ masterlist

♥ pairing: oscar piastri x fem!sargeant!ballerina!reader

♥ smau - fluff

♥ a/n: I said I'd write some ballet fics so here's one lol. I'm going to write some ship fic ballet au's (drivers as ballet dancers) after I finish my folklore and Romeo and Juliet series'. Also! I'm performing a don quixote variation this weekend so wish me luck lol :) (none of the pictures are mine)

liked by logansargeant and 32,406 more

yourusername First Day @/ausballet

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logansargeant congrats sis

yourusername <3

user14 she's in Australia now 🫢

user3 PLEASE let that mean she'll be at more races now

yourusername 👀

user5 💗💗💗

oscarpiastri welcome to Australia

landonorris trying to get a date on main?

logansargeant don't even think about it piastri

oscarpiastri ???

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

2023 British GP

You walked into the paddock bright and early to find your brother before he was busy with qualifying. You ended up running into a different, yet familiar face instead. 

“Oh, hey Oscar,” you smiled 

“Didn’t expect you to be here with your new Australian ballet career,” he smirked and took a sip of the water he had in his hand. “You don’t have a busy schedule? 

“I do, but the season wrapped last month. I figured I’d come down here and support Logan, you know? I’ve got a lot of training to do when I get back, though.” you laughed softly. 

Oscar hummed in an understanding response. 

“How’s it been there?” 

“Good,” you paused. “Tough, too.” 

“I’m sure it is. It’s an art and a sport.” 

“People don't really consider what I do “a sport”.”

“They say the same about racing.” 

“I guess we have something to bond over.”  you smiled.

You both heard Lando call Oscar's name, gesturing for him to go to their garage. Oscar gave an awkward, blush-filled goodbye and ran towards the Brit on the other side of the pit lane.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 340,967 more

yourusername he says I'm so american

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lilymhe top golf double date

yourusername we are so there

user7 WHO IS HE

user9 y/n x oscar crumbs

user2 crying and writing fics

logansargeant 😐

yourusername ...

user6 @/landonorris please tell us she's with oscar

user8 why would lando know?

landonorris 🤐

user8 @/user6 I'm sorry I wasn't familiar with your game, clearly Lando does know

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 305,678 more

yourusername opening night 🧡

logansargeant you did amazing 💐

user2 the orange heart...

user5 NOT a coincidence

user8 AND it's f1's winter break meaning Oscar is back home in Australia where it just so happens y/n dances at

user4 the pieces of the puzzle are finally coming together

ausballet our sugar plum fairy

yourusername <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Time Skip - 2024

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, and 670,895 more

yourusername MONACO <3

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charles_leclerc welcome to the piastri-leclerc family

yourusername I'm honored, thank you charles

oscarpiastri so when should she meet my brother leo?

user6 Y/N'S APART OF THE JOKE NOW 😭

user10 someone go get Nicole

user4 y/n l/n-piastri-leclerc

logansargeant don't break her heart

oscarpiastri I won't I swear

[24kvlaks]

Horny pals.

How slashers act when they’re horny.

TW: implied sex.

Dominic- the dare.

Dominic had zero sexual experience so he’s more rational but a tad impulsive at times when it comes down to it.

If you just so happened to brush against it in a hug he’d ignore the pulsing. Though it’d kill him internally.

He’s the type to wait it out or go somewhere private to fix his problem.

-

If you wanted to help him he’d but confuse but more than happy to agree.

You’d take his cock in your mouth and bob your head on the tip, you’d try to tease him but he’d likely lose control and just face fuck you.

He’d let you get up for breathers but as soon as you seemed to have gathered yourself enough he’d make you go back to gagging.

His thick hand grabbing your curls and letting his cock hit the back of your throat.

One time you passed out and he thought he had killed you. You should’ve seen the poor boy contemplating whether he should just call the police and risk going to jail.

He’s big on pussy pounding! He loves missionary. Face to face. He loved reaching your face distort not even noticing how fucked out he looked.

He loves it when you sit on his lap, especially whilst he’s working on mask. Or new torture designs.

Bouncing on his thick bulge.

It doesn’t last long though because he either cums in his pants, or just fucks you until he does.

-

Huge size kink he loves how thick his cock looks coming out of your tight cunt. How it tightens around him and creams all over his shaft.

He goes feral once you scratch his back, or call him a good boy. He’s a whimpering mess.

-

(KINK BOARD- Good boy kink, size fetish, missionary kink, mouth fetish, grinding kink)

Bubba sawyer

He’s a virgin obviously. Of course he goes into his little basement to play with himself. One time Hoyt caught him and made fun of him!

He cried himself to sleep.

But when you caught him and teased him about it, it just felt so different. He felt his cock pulsing. Like he was masturbating without touching it.

The first time you had sex he was on a mental rollercoaster! Doubting if he did good, wondering if he fucked you good enough!

He didn’t want to crush you, poor baby was so big he ended up breaking his bed!

He lacks self control yet is very self conscious! He’d rub his big ole boner into you until he’s busted. Only if you’d allow it.

He hates igniting sex.

-

He’d let himself get blue balls then asking first. One time he busted a nut just by you calling him a good boy. He loves it when you sit and fondle with his balls.

He loves giving you back shots! He takes off his mask during sex because it’s hard to breathe in it.

But he doesn’t want you to see what he thinks is a hideous face so he’d stick to pounding your tight asshole or pussy.

He’s a big ass guy. If you’re wearing a skirt he’ll play with himself in secret. Always forgetting to fully wash hid hands and ends up getting caught with cum on them.

Watching you lick it off his bloody fingers.

Believe it or not he loves it when you smother his face with your juices, just like cannibalism! Except he doesn’t have to kill you.

He doesn’t have a nose so you don’t have to worry about hurting his bone marrow. And can just go ham on his tongue.

He eats your pussy as a sport. He enjoys it!

Sometimes he’d just do it for himself because he genuinely enjoys the taste.

-

He loves playing with your cum. It’s just proof he has done such a good job. He’s such a good good boy for his baby.

He’d sit and play with your cum as it’s leaking out of your throbbing pussy with excited little squeals!

-

(KINK BOARD- good boy kink, cum play, oral kink, face riding, masturbation kink)

Michael Myers

Michaels a virgin; obviously because he spent nearly his entire life in the asylum. Though he has some experience.

He’s watched his sister have sex openly around him.

And he’s killed plenty of teenagers whilst they were fucking.

So it was no surprise what he was into.

When Michael wanted it he got it, if he was horny no matter what you were doing he’d pull you by your hair and just fuck you until you were unresponsive.

He enjoyed watching you turn blue as he choked you. Watching your face distort from pleasure and pain.

-

He’d use his knife from time to time. Sometimes stabbing it in the counter and using it to scare you.

Slicing you once or twice just to see the blood spill.

He bruised you up, I mean people started to think you were being abused by your boyfriend! He surprisingly didn’t mind oral though it wasn’t his favorite.

He’d hold you down as you’d scream to be able to breathe. Hands in your hair as you choked around his cock.

He’d toss you around until he was done with you.

He loved hiding as you played with yourself, not aware he was there watching.

He didn’t like masturbation, he didn’t understand the point of it. If he had someone to control his urges control them.

Take his cock until he was done.

He loved restraining you, grabbing both of your wrist in one hands as you screamed for him to take it gentle.

He loved how blood looked on you. Coming home after a fresh kill and covering you in his mess.

He hated teasing.

One time you tried he choked you unconscious with his dick out.

Big guy was into sleep fucking.

Taking what he wanted as you slept, waking you up with a pussy full of killer dick.

-

He was rough, sometimes it wasn’t even pleasure just pure pain. He was a monster, and he fucked you reckless in bed.

He loved scaring you. Sometimes he’d pretend he’s going to kill you just to watch you run away in fear screaming. He’d hurt you during these chases. He loved the thrill.

Watching you run through the woods, bloody and hurt. Before disappearing coming home and fucking you later.

-

(KINK BOARD- chase kink, bruising kink, hair pulling kink, restraint kink, blood kink, knife play, choking, voyeur kink.

Jason Voorhees.

Jason’s obviously a virgin. He’s very shy about sex. His mother always told him that doing stuff like that was sinning and naughty.

Which is partially the reason he killed whoever he caught in the act.

Jason never masturbated. He was used to dealing with blue balls, he never understood why he couldn’t touch himself or have sex. He thought it was just because he considered himself ugly:

When you two had sex it was sensual. He loved taking care of you after or getting taken care of!

Despite what his mother said he loved watching you play with yourself.

Or wrapping your hand on top of his whilst he masturbated. He loved being called a good boy.

-

Jason is very slow when it comes down to sex. He’d actually kill you if he went all out!

He didn’t want to hurt you, so he’d go by your pace and by your reaction.

He doesn’t have a lot of kinks, he’s used to the usual.

He loved protective sex! If you almost got caught in one of his traps or if someone hurt you he’d fuck you all night long!

If you made him jealous he’d get insecure but soon enough once you told him that everything was okay, he’d fuck you. Just to prove to you he was good enough.

He loved holding your hand. During sex, during walks. Anything!

He loved letting you sit in his lap.

-

(KINK BOARD- protective fucking, together masturbation, lap sitting, hand holding, good boy kink)

Patrick Bateman.

Bateman was quite the experienced. And he didn’t want to do anything that made him feel less dominant. He wasn't shy about it, if he wanted it he got it.

-

He loved tying you up, rendering you helpless as he fucked you with every once of power he had.

Pulling your hair and making you look sloppy as he face fucked you.

He loved missionary! Face to face as he looked stoic watching your face expressions become uncontrollable.

Sometimes once you disobeyed him he’d grab your hair. Twisting it and sucking your neck until it was blue.

He loved marking you, especially when men occasionally looked at you.

He loved gift giving, he'd buy you a pair of expensive underwear just to tear them to shreds so he could fuck you! And give you a more expensive pair and the cycle starts again and again!

Very much into jealousy sex, Patrick thought he was two high and mighty to be jealous so when you did he'd just fuck the feeling out of you!

-

He didn't hide the fact that he was horny, a simple whisper in your ear and it was time to go.

Words of affection! He loved the way you'd reassure him or comb your fingers through his hair calling him handsome.

Tit playing, he seems like the type to love petite titties. A weird fetish he'd let no one know he has. Though you quickly caught on because every time you didn't wear a bra you'd go straight into the bed.

-

(KINK BOARD- Words of affection, tit playing, jealousy sex, gift giving, missionary kink, hair pulling, marking, restraints)

That's all folks! Lmk if i should do a part 2. and who should i include in it.

[trulyhisnightmare]

His Nightmare | C.Rhodes

Not my gif

Parings: Cody Rhodes x fiancé!reader

Summary: it’s Cody’s day off and you want him

Warnings: oral (f!receiving), fingering, dry riding, reader has a tattoo for Cody and he does for her, swearing, dirty talk, illusions to more smut.

Word count: 525

a/n: first imagine, was actually nervous about posting this but anything for the new champ.

Being engaged to a professional wrestler was an adventure every day. The days Cody wasn’t working were the days he still had to maintain his persona and start Instagram and twitter beef. “Cody.” You whine from the couch, scrolling through twitter and seeing Cody tweet for the tenth time in ten minutes. “What’s wrong?” He says, coming down in a dress shirt and sitting beside you. “You realize how rare days off are in wwe, right?” You ask, snuggling up to his side, running a finger up and down his chest. 

Cody nods in confusion, not really knowing what you’re getting at. “It’s your day off and you’re more on your phone than you are on me.” You clarify. “I just wanna feel the American nightmare.” You whine into his ear, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. “Jesus, love, have you been this needy all day?” He taunts, leaning further back into the couch. You swing a leg over his lap and fully straddle him, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt.

You pushed apart the opening of his shirt seeing the tattoo of “𝒽ℯ𝓇 𝓃𝒾ℊ𝒽𝓉𝓂𝒶𝓇ℯ.” It replicated yours, however yours said “𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓃𝒾ℊ𝒽𝓉𝓂𝒶𝓇ℯ.” The memory of getting the tattoos together makes your heart race. Your finger traced along the cursive ink in his chest while placing kisses along his neck and his hands running up and down your back, pulling you further into him, practically placing you on his bulge. 

Cody bunched up the bottom of your shirt, pulling it over your head and unclasping your bra, letting your tits feel the coolness of the room causing your nipples to harden. “Fuck baby. All this for me.” Cody says, grazing his thumbs over your nipples. You arch into his body, your breathing uneven all into his ear. “Cody please. More.” You beg, letting out a low moan as he attaches his lips around your nipple while his hand plays with the other. 

You pulled off Cody’s button up, wrapping your arms around his biceps as you arched forward. Cody let his hand wander down your stomach to the entrance of your pant line. You gasp at Cody, cold fingers tracing your fold. “That’s it baby, just relax.” Cody flipped the two of you, allowing your back to hit the couch, making Cody on top, peeling your panties off. 

Cody's hands rubbed against your thighs, back to your clit. He slowly rubbed it over with his thumb while placing wet kisses along your neck. He trails his mouth along your body, inserting a finger ever so slowly, finally allowing you to feel undeniable pleasure. His tongue circles your clit, creating endless figure eights. Your thighs try to clamp around his head, but he uses his hands to keep them apart.

 “Cody, please. I need you.” You whimper thrashing in his hold. You let out an anguish cry of pleasure as Cody caught your orgasm on his finger. You perch up on your elbows as Cody gets off the couch. “You better make it to our bedroom before I do.” He says giving you a smirk making you blush, biting your lips slightly as you rushed to the bedroom. 

[kennysdeadbody]

alone at a party

[lecsainz]

I just wanna say that I love your fics! and want know if you can make one with Travis Kelce and reader where they lost a baby

NOT AGAIN

˒ ⌕ masterlist . . .

parings: travis kelce + wife!reader

summary: the one where you and travis lost a baby.

🗒️: I had no idea how to write this, I did it as I saw in movies and series so forgive me if it got bad.

type: angst ✶

The sterile walls of the hospital room echoed the heavy silence between Travis and Y/N. Their eyes spoke volumes, burdened with the weight of a shared sorrow. Y/N clutched the ultrasound picture, a cruel reminder of dreams shattered once again.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Kelce," the doctor's words lingered, a haunting refrain in the room.

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she whispered, "Not again. Why does this keep happening, Trav?"

He wrapped his arms around her, his voice barely above a whisper, "Life's just been cruel to us, love."

The grief hung thick, palpable. Travis wiped away Y/N's tears, his own eyes mirroring her pain. They navigated through the wreckage of shattered hopes, mourning a child that would never be cradled in their arms.

Days turned into nights, and silence engulfed their home like a heavy fog. Travis found Y/N sitting in the nursery, surrounded by baby clothes and a crib that would remain empty.

"I can't bear this emptiness," Y/N whispered, her voice breaking.

Travis knelt beside her, their hands entwined. "We'll get through this together, no matter how many times life tests us."

As Y/N uttered those words, Travis's phone rang, the caller ID flashing with his mother's name. With a heavy sigh, he answered, the weight of grief evident in his voice.

"Mom, it's not a good time," Travis murmured, trying to maintain composure.

His mother's cheerful tone echoed through the phone, unaware of the tragedy that had befallen them. "I was just checking in. How's Y/N doing? Is the baby kicking yet?"

Travis closed his eyes, the lump in his throat growing. "Mom, we... we lost the baby."

A stunned silence followed, broken only by Y/N's muffled sobs. Travis closed his eyes, grappling with the weight of the words he had just spoken.

His mother's voice cracked, "Oh, Travis, I'm so sorry. How's Y/N?"

Travis turned to Y/N, her grief-stricken face reflecting the agony in his own heart. He hugged her tightly, shielding her from the world. "She's hurting, Mom. We both are."

His mother's voice softened, "Oh, Travis, I'm so sorry. We'll be there for you both, however you need."

After ending the call, Travis turned to Y/N, her tear-stained face etched with pain. He gently cupped her cheeks, forcing her to meet his gaze. "It's not your fault, Y/N. You hear me? This isn't on you."

She shook her head, tears streaming down. "Travis, what if it is? What if I can't give you the family we dreamed of?"

His heart ached at her words. Travis embraced her, whispering, "No, love, don't you dare blame yourself. We'll face this together, just like we always have."

[the-purple-possum]

You know something?

I want to headcanon that Bruce has spent so much time around Alfred that he accidentally uses British insults and terminology.

For instance, he's at a gala, hes having a conversation, and the person says something so infuriating that he calls them a Pillock, and since its America, everyone just stops and looks very confused.

Dick finds this hillarious, until he starts doing it too. He'll accidentally ask someone for a 'rubber' and everyone looks horrorfied.

Tim has learnt from Dick's mistakes, he phases out the English terms, except every now and then he says a word with a very posh English accent. Mostly words he's heard Alfred say a lot, such as 'dinner', and he has to stop and resound that word until it sounds right.

Jason on the other hand, he comes back to Dick slipping all over the place, he finds it hillarious, especially as he tried to fight Nightwing, and out of nowhere he hears the word 'twat'. He can't take it seriously. He doesn't even know where Dick heard it, especially as Alfred never swears.