#them of me... and ever since then this song has always been so special to my heart

[princessmyriad]

.

[5sospenguinqueen]

Taste | Max Verstappen x Singer! Reader

Summary: She’ll just have to taste you when he’s kissing her. When Max and Kelly break up, the pair of you start something sweet. But, it only lasts a short while when your conflicting schedules drive him back into her arms. 

Warnings: Kelly Piquet slander. 

Requested: No, I’m just obsessed with making up fantasies whilst I drive home from work with my music on

Faceclaim: Sabrina Carpenter (yes, I know she’s used a lot but I stole her song and her occupation so why not steal her face) 

F1 Masterlist

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f1wags just posted

liked by user1, redbullracing and others

f1wags max verstappen and kelly piquet both confirmed they have seperated, posting a short statement on their instagram stories. the news comes after months of speculation after explosive arguments were caught on camera

3,306 comments

user1 omg did anyone see that red bull admin liked this and then unliked it

user2 thank god! i’ve been waiting for this day for ever

user3 can we see him date someone his own age now that didn’t go after him when he was a teen? 

user4 finally! turns out manifesting works 

user5 he always looked so upset after they argued. hopefully he finds someone good for him

user6 hear me out, but how hot would he look with yn ln

→ user7 like they’d ever cross paths. he’s an athlete and she’s a pop star 

→ user6 yes but my point is that they would look hot together 

→ user8 he did have one of her songs playing in the background of a stream once?

user9 i love how she’s really laying it on thick in hers and he’s just like “yeah, it’s over” 

→ user10 we love an unbothered king

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mclaren just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and others

mclaren we have a special guest in the garage this weekend. thank you @/yn_ln for joining us

6,098 comments

yn_ln thank you so much for having me! i had an amazing weekend but i don’t think i’ll be in a rush to do hot laps again

→ landonorris don’t be like that. i know you had fun! 

→ yn_ln idk who trusted you with a licence but they should be fired

→ landonorris idk why they call you short and sweet :( 

user1 she looks soooo good wtf  liked by maxverstappen1

oscarpiastri it was really fun having you in the garage. thank you for making lando seem tall. now he’ll be in a good mood for the rest of the weekend

→ yn_ln f1 girlies, can you tell me if he’s dating the curly haired one?

→ oscarpiastri well played. i apologise for bringing your height into this

→ user2 yes, yes they are, yn

user3 chat, is this real? my fave singer in my fave team’s garage! two worlds colliding 

charles_leclerc omg please stop by ferrari. my girlfriend, alex, absolutely loves you

→ yn_ln come pick me up! (‘cause i don’t know my way around the paddock) and i’d love to meet her

user4 omg somebody tell max. i hope she gets lost and stumbles into red bull

→ user5 my delusions might come true if that happens

→ user6 he saw her when charles was walking her over to ferrari

→ user4 and?! 

→ user6 nothing. he turned around and went back into the garage

→ user7 yeah after he went bright red! 

f1wags just posted

liked by user8, shortnsweet and others

f1wags only two months since his split from model, kelly piquet, max verstappen has been linked to singer, yn ln. the pair have been spotted numerous times on dates and caught in moments of affection

2,999 comments

user8 yn’s clothing brand liked this! 

→ user9 that doesn’t mean anything?

→ user8 well, considering that is her own brand, and they’re a part of her image, i’d say it means something 

user10 anyone else notice that they’re wearing different outfits in every photo, which means they’re all from different days/dates

user11 i’m going feral

user12 okay but you can’t even deny that this is them because it very clearly is 

user13 people said i was crazy when i talked about these two being together! 

user14 they’re so hot together. i might actually combust 

user15 i’m (s)creaming

user16 the hand holding 🥹 they’re not just fucking

user17 my new otp 

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kellypiquet just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, piquetjr and others

kellypiquet my 🩷

2,987 comments 

maxverstappen1 ❤️

→ user1 aha this is such a dry response lmao 

user2 wtf? i thought he was with yn

→ user3 that was just a rumour 

user4 he looks much better with yn 

→ user5 yeah but she can’t give him the stable relationship he needs so no wonder he went back to kelly. she’s always there lmao 

→ user6 yeah because she never lets that man go. she’s possessive and it’s not healthy

user7 max is so cute with p 

user8 my favourite thing about this post is that all of these pics are old because max is currently in a press conference with his long hair, not these short strands

user9 how could he leave yn like this? they were so cute together 

(comments on this post have been disabled)

yn_ln just posted

liked by landonorris, kellypiquet and others

yn_ln in honour of my tour starting, please enjoy my new single taste! 💋

14,033 comments

user1 omg a new album, a new tour and an additional song?

alexandrasaintmleux got this on repeat 

→ charles_leclerc this is true. it’s all we’ve had in the car

→ alexandrasaintmleux don’t act like you don’t know all the words 

user2 this was 100% written because of the max situation

jennaortega but how hot do we look 

user3 not kelly liking this! 

→ user4 i like to think the middle picture is aimed at her for stealing yn’s man

redbullracing blue is definitely your colour

→ mclaren she looks better in orange 

→ scuderiaferrari we think she should try red next 

→ yn_ln i’ll wear whatever colour invites me to watch rich men drive around in circles next

→ alpinef1team pink it is! 

landonorris i liked the parts where you died

oscarpiastri oh so you’re allowed to make height comments but i wasn’t?

→ yn_ln please refer to the middle picture

user5 chat, i can’t stop thinking about “he pins you down on the carpet, makes paintings with his tongue” 

→ user6 max verstappen, i was not familiar 

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yn_ln just posted

liked by redbullracing, oscarpiastri and others

yn_ln i heard there’s some sort of race on so i thought i would show some support. let’s play spot the team

10,001 comments 

user7 omg did you see that charles and alex were there! 

→ user8 and pierre and kika

→ user9 well, we know who got charles in the divorce 

user10 we all know who red bull wants in max’s garage 👀

→ user11 the fact that they liked a gossip post of him dumping kelly and are now all over yn’s insta 

user12 okay but the placement of the bulls has me weak in the knees

user13 who’s your favourite driver? 

→ yn_ln daniel ricciardo

→ danielricciardo showing this to everyone i know

→ user14 does that include max? liked by danielricciardo 

user15 we love a petty queen because you can’t tell me the writing isn’t aimed at kelly and max 

→ user16 and the bull instead of the kiss

mclaren we’re hurt. truly hurt that you didn’t post a pic with our logo 

→ yn_ln you have a whole insta post dedicated to you! 

alexandrasaintmleux the hottest concert i’ve ever been to

→ charles_leclerc still can’t believe she arrested you when i was right there

landonorris does this mean you can come to the race? like you’re practically already there??

→ oscarpiastri i second this

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requests open. i'm just slow haha

coming soon; lewis hamilton baby angst

this wasn’t due out until next week but MAX WON!!! And so I’m posting this in honour of that. I’m just sorry this was planned as angst 😬😂

tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @lilorose25

[mobtism]

Omg I don't remember if I've sent one yet or not but ∞!!!!

I'm not stubborn and there's nothing you can do to change my mind

I'm not special, I just like to get attention all the time

My heart is my sleeve, do you like what you see?

My heart is my sleeve, will you know me?

Will you know me?

Holliday - the Weekend Run Club

ask game

[noxtivagus]

suteki da ne

[emocheol]

first kiss with seventeen

seungcheol

gets all nervous

has been planning this for weeks

wants it to be so good so bad that he ends up colliding his forehead with yours when he’s going in

gets all red from embarrassment and makes you swear to never tell anyone about it (so of course you tell everyone)

“please tell me that wasn’t the worst first kiss you’ve had”

“well if that’s what you want to hear…”

jeonghan

makes you make the first move

can tell that you’ve been wanting to kiss him since you’re always looking at his lips, just wants to make you work for it

will spend the entire day teasing you by getting close and then pulling away

you have to grab his face and hold him there to finally kiss him

he won’t ever let you live down the fact that technically you made the first move

“you’re obsessed with me, huh?”

“you’ve been teasing me all day!”

“doesn’t change the fact”

joshua

extremely confident

just makes out with you when he feels the timing is right

can’t get enough and will not stop kissing you

becomes a norm in your relationship for him to kiss you every second he gets

“why are you always kissing me?”

“why? can’t i show my partner how much i love them?”

jun

shy shy shy

makes a whole romantic date and at the end he asks if it’s okay to kiss you

is soooo nervous that you’re going to say no, but of course you say yes

swears that fireworks explode when your lips touch

he is so whipped for you

“i think im in love with you”

“what was that?”

“uhhh i think we need more glue!”

soonyoung

gives it no thought

just spontaneously kisses you when he gets extra happy one day

“babe! look our song is number 1!” and presses a bunch of kisses on your lips

all he remembers is how nice it feels to kiss you

continues to kiss you whenever he feels like it and loves it twice as much whenever you initiate it

“soonyoung! you just kissed me!”

“yeah! did you not like it? :(”

“no it’s okay, do it again”

wonwoo

quite simple about it

will pucker his lips at you and wait for you to kiss him

won’t get embarrassed over it either

he’s in love with you! he’s not scared to show his affection

“wonwoo what are you doing?”

“waiting for you to kiss me, angel”

jihoon

heat of the moment kiss

everything feels so right

feels like he’d be doing you a disservice if he didn’t kiss you

is the most gentle man on the planet and holds your face in his hands

will let you take control of the kiss, just this one time

you’ll be grinning like an idiot

“what was that for?”

“just felt right”

minghao

encourages you to kiss him first

you just got promoted at your job and you’re over the moon about it, so you’re celebrating with minghao

“you can kiss me if you want” he’ll say as if it’s the most casual sentence ever

you get all shy and press a sweet kiss to his lips

he’ll take the lead

“don’t be shy, sweetheart”

“you’re just too handsome :(”

mingyu

he’ll be sick and sulking because he wants to go on your planned date but he can’t get out of bed

profusely apologizes but you won’t accept them because it’s not his fault!

when he won’t stop rambling you’ll lean down and kiss him to shut up him

when you pull away he has a dopey smile on his face

“do that again!”

“i can’t risk getting sick…”

“i’ll nurse you back to health”

pulls you down to him, and pecks your lips a bunch of times

seokmin

#1 gentleman

wine and dine

“i totally understand if you’re not ready but, can i kiss you?” SWOON

makes you feel like the most special person on the planet

will still ask you if he can kiss you multiple times after that

“can i kiss you?”

“seokmin we’ve been together for a year”

“doesn’t hurt to ask!”

seungkwan

smooth so so smooth

you’ll be playing a game and the prize is the winner gets to make the loser do whatever they want

seungkwan wins (of course)

pretends to think about what he wants even though he knows

“kiss me”

“what?!”

“i won so i want you to kiss me”

cue you being a blushing mess and giving seungkwan a light kiss

vernon

gets home from work one day and kisses you when he walks through the door

you’re shocked and he’s acting like it’s an every day occurrence

doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it

(he’s secretly been wanting to kiss you for weeks)

“what was that for?”

“just missed you, baby”

this becomes a regular occurrence when he gets home from work now

chan

nervous as hell

wants to be smooth and he is!

until he’s not

accidentally bites your tongue (a/n: i have had a man bite my tongue before and it hurt for a week)

profusely apologies but he’s such a cutie, how can you be mad?

“i’m so sorry, do you want me to get ice?”

“no, chan, just kiss me again”

does it right this time

[buckymorelikefuckme]

fri(end)s

bucky barnes x fem reader

words: 3.8k

warnings & tags: **18+ ONLY** friends/roommates to lovers oh my god they were roommates, smoking weed, brief mutual masturbation, frottage (i think that's the right word idfk i'm all out of practice), p in v sex, unprotected sex (don’t do that), reader has nipple piercings bc i said so, slight pain kink? mayhaps? ok pls let me know if i’ve missed anything!

a/n: i made this fic my bitch tonight. this is absolutely not proofread or beta'd, you're just gonna have to take it for what it is, sorry not sorry. anyway, it’s been too long since i wrote for this beefy man :’) i really hope you like it. this was originally very loosely inspired by a scene in what’s your number? but it quickly gained a mind of its own to become what it is now, so. there ya go. title is from the song of the same name by V of bts thank you very much. any and all mistakes are my own. feedback is greatly appreciated and heavily encouraged!!! xoxo

bucky barnes masterlist || main masterlist

Bucky’s introduction to weed was something you’d been supremely proud of.

When the two of you became roommates, you both had been kind of quiet and kept to yourselves at first, which isn’t too unusual, but you noticed that Bucky almost always had a frown etched into his handsome face. A frown that only ever softened after a night out with his friends and, you assumed, a decent hook-up. It never took long for that frown to reappear, though.

You didn’t know what could have been so stressful for him, but you knew he needed a way to relax, and not just for himself, either. The sight of him glumly moving around the apartment—honestly, you’ve never seen someone make fixing a bowl of cereal look so fucking sad—was beginning to weigh on your own nerves.

So, naturally, you thought of asking him if he’s ever tried weed. Somehow, his frown had deepened at that question. He said no, shocking absolutely no one, and then you asked if he wanted to try it. Admittedly, he was a little hesitant at first, but he eventually agreed.

The way his body, all two hundred and whatever pounds of muscle and angst, sank into the recliner like a ragdoll when the high really hit him made you grin. Though, to be fair, you were already smiling, what with you also being high. It was the first time you saw a real, genuine smile from Bucky, and you were immensely pleased to have given him a way to decompress from whatever kept him so tense all the time.

It became a sort of thing for you two. Saturday nights were for getting high, binge-watching Love Island (UK, because you both have class, thank you very much) and raiding the pantry for all the good snacks when the munchies hit. You’d never tell anyone, but those nights quickly became something you looked forward to every week, something you could cling to when your own life got a little difficult. Who knew smoking weed—and on a few special occasions, doing edibles—with your roommate would make a friendship blossom so prettily?

***

After how late Bucky got in last night, you knew he’d be sleeping in and would more than likely have a hangover. So, for this particular Saturday morning, you get up and quietly start gathering your laundry while Bucky snores loudly into his pillow from his bedroom. You were getting behind on it anyway, down to your last pair of clean shorts.

Before you put them on, though, you purse your lips in thought, staring at your pile of dirty clothes. You didn’t want to put on clean shorts with the panties and shirt you slept in last night. It would be smarter to wash them with the rest of your clothes, right? But that would leave you topless, which, you wouldn’t exactly be opposed to it, but you’re not sure Bucky would appreciate waking up to you walking around with your tits out. Or maybe he would? Whatever, it doesn’t matter.

You shake your head to clear your thoughts and then remember that Bucky did his laundry yesterday, and knowing him, he probably left at least some of his clean clothes in the dryer. Surely he wouldn’t mind you borrowing a shirt.

With that plan in mind, you dump your clothes into your laundry basket and make your way down the hall to the doors where your washing and drying units are (a major selling point of the apartment, if you’re honest). Just like you thought, Bucky’s left a load in the dryer, and even some of his button-downs are hung up on the drying rack. You quickly pull your t-shirt off, shivering against the cool air, and reach for one of the hangers, slipping his shirt off of it and onto yourself. For a dress shirt, it’s actually quite comfortable, obviously one of the shirts he wears more often with how soft and a little worn the fabric is. You shimmy your panties down your legs and add them to your pile, grabbing your clean shorts and tugging them on, too.

You make quick work of starting your first load of clothes, closing the doors to muffle the sound of the washer, and head back to your room to do your morning routine. By the time you’re done and have also cooked yourself breakfast, Bucky is staggering down the hall and into the kitchen, hair a tangled nest atop his head and eyes bleary.

“Good morning, sunshine,” you greet with a teasing smile.

He flips you off and beelines for the coffee machine, pouring himself a cup and not speaking a word until he’s downed at least half of it. Part of you is concerned for his esophagus, but you’ve long since come to the conclusion that Bucky’s probably got a thing for pain—both physically and emotionally.

“Remind me to tell Sam he isn’t allowed to bring Natasha on our nights out anymore,” he grumbles, voice rough from both sleep and a long night of drinking. “I’ve never taken so many shots of vodka in my life.”

You hum. “Sounds like my kind of woman, actually.” He cuts his eyes at you, silently judging while taking another sip of his coffee. “Want me to fry up some bacon and eggs for you?” You almost laugh at the way his expression immediately switches to pleading.

The rest of the morning is spent finishing your laundry and putting it all away, even gathering up Bucky’s clothes that he’d left and dumping them on his bed. You’ll leave the folding to him, though; your generosity only extends so far, after all.

Lunch rolls around and you both decide to order takeout from the burger place down the street, Bucky shushing you when you keep insistently whispering for him to order extra truffle fries (which he does order, after you’ve sworn pain of death if he doesn’t) and once it arrives, the two of you settle around the coffee table in the living room, putting on a random movie to watch while you eat.

And of course, when the sun begins to lower on the horizon, you start pulling out your stash and getting everything ready. Bucky’s already got the windows open in the living room to let the smell air out as you smoke, and he also has Love Island queued up and ready to go.

While you smoke the first joint, you make the conscious decision to bake a small batch of brownies for later. Bucky sits on the counter beside you, passing the joint back and forth as he quietly watches you work. Wordlessly, you hand over the bowl and spoon to him after you’ve poured the batter into the awaiting pan. No matter how many times you’ve tried to warn him about salmonella he always insists on licking them clean.

Sometimes, in these moments, you forget how surly he used to be with you. Not that he was ever rude or anything, but he never would have pouted about not being able to eat raw brownie batter before you helped him break down some of those walls of his.

***

“He’s such a dick,” Bucky mumbles a while later, face impassive and tone bland as he refers to one of the islanders of the show, slouching so deeply into the couch he’s practically become one with it.

The high from the first joint is finally kicking in fully, doing its job of releasing every ounce of tension from your bodies. It’s also making your mouth dry and tummy rumble for snacks. Thank god you made those brownies and Bucky unearthed some candy from past movie nights and lots of chips out of the pantry cabinets.

You hum at his comment. “Most men are.”

Bucky turns his head in your direction with an affronted expression that has you snickering. He goes to reply, giving you the sassiest once-over you’ve ever seen, but his eyes doubletake on your torso and he pauses. He stares for a moment.

“That’s my shirt,” he states.

You look down at the shirt in question, of which you’ve worn all day long and somehow he’s only just now noticing.

“Wow, you’re like Sherlock Holmes or something,” you drawl.

Bucky stares some more, and then, “Why are you wearing my shirt?”

“Because I had laundry to do and I needed something to wear while all my stuff was washing,” you say in a “duh” tone.

“But…” He frowns. “It’s my favorite.”

You snort inelegantly. “Bucky, you literally have, like, at least four other white dress shirts.”

“So? What, I can’t have a favorite one just because I have more of the same color?”

“Christ,” you say on an exasperated exhale. “I’ll give it back before bed, okay? I don’t wanna move right now. I’m scared I’ll bump into stuff again.”

Bucky huffs a laugh at that, which turns into a full-blown giggle fit that is contagious. Soon after your shared laughter dies down, the conversation moves back to the illicit love triangles among the islanders. You trash talk the couple that Bucky likes, just to see him get riled up and rant about how they’re the most real couple of the season and everyone else is just jealous. He gets red in the face and pouty when you remind him that this is a heavily produced show about pretty people getting a chance to get famous for being pretty people by hooking up with each other and playing stupid games that mean nothing in the grand scheme of it all. Really, it’s quite cute.

To placate him, though, you get a second joint rolled and let him take the first hit.

***

Turns out this second one hits you rather harder than normal. It feels like your head is a balloon and your neck is the string tethering it to the rest of your body. Everything feels much more sluggish compared to all the other times you’ve gotten high with Bucky. Somewhere in the depths of your hazy brain you remember that you’d gotten a different brand this time around; perhaps that’s why.

On the tv, the islanders are getting ready for bed, and once the lights go out in their room, some of the couples engage in some serious heavy petting, lifting their comforters for a semblance of privacy. The sounds start next, sighs and low moans, and it all begins to settle into your subconscious. Between one lazy blink and the next, you realize you’re… actually kind of horny. It’s not enough for you to really pay attention to it, not at first, just a little sprinkle of it, a tiny twist in your core that briefly has you pressing your thighs together then relaxing again.

But then the arousal builds up inside you so slowly and easily that you don’t even realize your hand has apparently grown a mind of its own and found its way down your shorts. You inhale sharply at the touch of your fingers against your clit, lashes fluttering as the sensation registers. The sound gains Bucky’s attention from where he's been lounging on the opposite end of the couch with his head tipped back and eyes closed.

They’re not closed anymore. Out of your peripheral, you see his head shift in your direction, feeling the weight of his stare like a physical thing. Your mind is both connected and disconnected from your actions, half-aware that this is probably not the smartest thing to be doing, that you’re absolutely crossing a major boundary. Touching yourself in this way in front of your roommate, your friend, is so not normal.

Yet, for some idiotic reason, you leave your hand down your shorts, continuing to lightly pet at your clit, neediness rising steadily. Even though you know he’s watching—and suspiciously quiet—you can’t help but let your fingers slither down to where you’re beginning to drip to gather some of your slick and bring it back to your clit and swirling your fingers at a sedate pace, sighing as your nipples tighten underneath your shirt.

Bucky is as still as a statue, gaze honed in on the movement of your hand, on how your thighs ease open more and more the longer you play with your pussy.

It takes very little time for your eyes to wander over to the man just a couple feet away, and to then notice and fixate on the growing bulge in Bucky’s sweatpants. The weight of his stare is almost a physical thing and you swallow roughly as you think about what he might look like, if he’s at all how you’ve secretly imagined when you’re alone in your bedroom, in much the same position as you are in now.

His hands creep towards his thighs and smooth down the expanse of them and back up, slowly, over and over, like he’s teasing himself. Like he’s teasing you. Your fingers don’t stop as you lift your other hand to tweak and pinch at your nipples through well-worn cotton, a tiny noise slipping past your dry lips.

Bucky pulls the hem of his shirt up, exposing part of his toned stomach and only hesitates for a split second before he lowers the waistband of his pants, pulling his cock out and matching the pace of his strokes with the pace of your fingers. The head of his cock is pink and precum makes it shine under the low light of the lamps in the living room.

You bite your lip as your arousal increases from the sight alone, and you decide to follow his lead, just a bit. You whine from the loss of stimulation when you remove your hand to shimmy your shorts down and off your legs, letting them fall to the floor carelessly. And now, Bucky has an unrestrained view of your glistening cunt as you sink two of your fingers inside yourself and use your other fingers to rub all around your clit. It has you gasping, eyelids threatening to close through the pleasure that sparkles throughout every vein in your body.

It’s good. Amazing, even. And it’s only making you want more. Bucky, it seems, feels much the same.

“C’mere,” he rasps, tone leaving no room for arguing, never mind that you wouldn’t have argued anyway.

You sit up on the couch, knee-walking over to where he’s still in his slumped position, never pulling your hand away from your clit because it feels like you’d cry if you did. Bucky curses under his breath and lets go of his cock to firmly grab you by the hips and tug you onto his lap. Your pussy ends up aligned perfectly with his cock, and you both shudder as you begin gliding back and forth across it, small movements that only increase the suspense of what likely comes next. He meets your eyes, red and glazed over from both the high and the toe-curling feeling of his cock along your wet center.

The kiss, when it happens, tastes like weed and the peanut M&M’s you both were snacking on just a little while ago. Bucky's tongue licks into your mouth like he can’t get enough, nips at your bottom lip to hear you whimper, gets a fistful of your hair and pulls and guides you until you’re pliant for him.

He knocks your hand away from your clit, but before you can complain about it he’s nudging the head of his cock against your entrance and you’re gasping all over again, grinding sloppily as you try to get him inside you. He finally sinks the head in and you allow gravity to aid you in taking the rest of him, moaning brokenly and high pitched at the stretch of him inside you. Bucky groans deep in his chest, hands clutching your waist like a lifeline as you slowly circle your hips, getting used to the feeling.

You stay like that for a few minutes, your breath and Bucky’s mixing hotly between you, and then you finally start fucking yourself on his cock. He grunts when you clench around him on the downstroke. You decide you like the sound, and you really wanna hear it again, so you repeat the action, moaning when the grunt is accompanied by a curse and his fingernails biting into your skin.

It takes what feels like ages for you to realize your thighs and knees ache from riding him, the weed making everything feel like it’s floating, including yourself, but Bucky sees the furrow in your brows and the shaking strain of your legs, and in the next second, he’s got you both moved from the couch to the floor. Time ticks on glacially slow like molasses as you stare up at him whipping his shirt off from where you’re sprawled on the carpet, your limbs shifting lethargically when he spreads your legs to better fit himself between them.

He fucks you hard, but not fast. you’re both much too high for anything fast, yet it still feels like your heart is going to pulse out of your chest, rabbiting away like you’ve run a marathon. Bucky buries his face in your neck, mouthing at your skin while he thrusts almost lazily.

Suddenly, his large hands encapsulate your hips, fingers pressing into the fleshiest parts of them as he sits up, getting his knees under him so he can rest on his haunches. He keeps your ass in his lap and your legs spread on either side of his waist. It makes your back arch and hips tilt up into a position that has you shuddering and sobbing when he begins to grind his thick cock deeper into you.

“I could stay buried in you for hours,” he mutters.

He reaches for the throw pillows on the couch and puts them under your hips, and then he fucks into you so hard it steals the breath right from your lungs, your mouth hanging open on a silent cry. His thrusts are sharper now, angled to perfection and making your toes curl so hard you fear them cramping and body jolt when he glides all the way back in. You gasp when Bucky rips open your shirt (his shirt, your mind helpfully supplies) and sends the buttons scattering across the floor. Those will be a bitch to find and clean up, but that’s a problem for much later.

“Fuck,” he grunts when he sees the piercings glinting in your nipples. “I fucking knew it,” he continues, squeezing each of your breasts in his hands and pinching your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, making you gasp again, pushing up into the sensation.

“Knew—“ You cut off with a whine when he pinches harder. “Knew what?”

“You walk around here wearing those goddamn cropped tank tops as tight as possible with no bra. Thought I was going crazy when I saw what looked like piercings underneath them,” he confesses as his hands travel back down to grip your waist, never losing his rhythm while he pulls you down to meet his thrusts.

At the sight of your tits bouncing with the movement of his hips, he groans, gravelly, his top lip curling as he grits his teeth and squeezes your hips so hard it hurts, and it only adds to your pleasure. With the way your skin is tingling, your pussy fluttering around him nonstop, you’re not sure if it’s because Bucky is fucking you that well or if it’s the weed. It’s probably both, and you have a split second thought that you’ll just have to test that theory once the high wears off.

It’s almost ironic, you think, how wet and messy your cunt is compared to how dry your mouth feels. It probably doesn’t help that your jaw seems to be permanently slack as you’re unable to stop your gasping inhales, only to exhale sounds you might be embarrassed about if you were clear-headed. Alas, your mind is a lot more focused on the way Bucky is splitting you open and carving a space inside you all for himself.

“So much better,” you whisper absently, fingers clawing at the carpet beneath you.

“Better than what?” he wonders, shifting to grip under your knees and push them up, changing the angle.

You cry out sharply, writhing uselessly in his hold. “My imagination,” you whimper.

Through bleary, tear filled eyes, you glance up at him just in time to see his lips pull into a boyish smirk.

“Mine too,” he confesses and sends you reeling.

You whine and reach down quickly to rub your throbbing clit, your whole body jerking as your pleasure mounts higher and higher. Bucky moans as he watches, stare trained on where you’re joined. His speed does pick up then, the slightest bit, a shudder wracking his frame as you clench down on him, head tipping back and exposing the long expanse of his throat for a brief moment before he suddenly leans over you, letting your legs fall into the cradle of his elbows.

“Won’t you be good for me and cum?” he asks, breathless, hips never letting up.

You open your mouth to reply but all that comes out is a strangled cry of his name, your fingers keeping their pace as your climax swells until it overflows, bursting like a firework and pleasure like you’ve never felt before sparks through every vein, muscle, and bone within you. Bucky curses in such a way it would make a sailor blush as you pulse around him. The sounds of your orgasm and his thrusts meeting your hips are the filthiest things you’ve ever heard, and it doesn’t stop for several moments, dragging on and on. It leaves you trembling and shaking and trying futilely to gather air in your lungs as he refuses to let up.

With great resolve, you bring your wet fingers away from your sensitive clit and up to his panting mouth. He groans at your taste, licking and sucking on your fingers as he chases his own release.

“Please,” you whisper, tears finally escaping your lashes and trailing down the sides of your face, and that seems to be his undoing.

Bucky moans, something high and broken, fucking into you rough enough that you’re worried about carpet burn. But then he pauses, gasping as he finally lets go and rides out his high.

Your hand slips from his mouth and falls to the floor like a deadweight. The only noise in the room now is the both your and Bucky’s harsh breathing and the television still playing that stupid fucking show. Bucky doesn’t move right away, of which you’re very thankful, because you’re not ready to feel the emptiness you know is coming, and it feels nice in a weird way to have him buried in you.

“Fuck,” he exhales, breaking the relative silence.

It makes you giggle, a small thing that turns into something uncontrollable, and when you manage to look at Bucky, he’s grinning in a dopey way that sets you off even more.

This is definitely something the two of you will have to talk about when you’re both sober, but like the buttons, that can be handled later. Although, something tells you it’ll all turn out just fine.

[norris55s]

reputation - lando norris

pop star reader x lando norris social media au

part two - part three

a/n: lando did a very reputation-like helmet and the hamster in my brain started working. rep's songs are also very lando coded to me. faceclaim is soyeon from (G)I-dle

requests are open, but i may get to them late because uni is kicking my ass!

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f1waggossip

f1waggossip: McLaren’s golden boy seems to be newly single… at least that’s what the streets say, considering his last girlfriend, pop star Y/N L/N, has not been seen in months at the paddock following a very public fall out with her former girl squad, and consequent fall from grace from everyone’s eyes. They seemed in love. What do you think?

landonorrizz: honestly, i never understood the hype for her. she has always been a red flag and dramatic!!

mercedesgarage: i don’t get it lol i don’t follow her, what happened?

455chilli: basically she was friends with other singers, models and actresses and they have recently unfollowed her and exposed her for not being as great as everyone thinks

y/nforever: you mean she had a friend group who turned on her out of nowhere? lol what her ex friends have said is based on jealousy

landostareyes: it seems like they broke up but they were really cute together :// i kinda feel bad but she also seems to be the problem

————————————————————————

landonorris

landonorris: p2 cake babyyyyyyyyy

supremey/n: that is my y/n if i’ve ever seen her

formulaonegirl: so they’re still together

carlandocontent: it could be any girl tbh, it’s been months since lando has even mentioned her

papayaheart: it’s even worse if they’re still together and she just won’t show up to support him in races anymore lol

————————————————————————

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y/nusername

y/nusername: Reputation. Out November 17.

Comments have been disabled.

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landonorris

landonorris: Are you ready for it? Reputation out November 17.

y/nlandodefender: nothing has ever been as iconic as a Y/N comeback special helmet i am in tears

landolove: reputation helmet to beat the breakup allegations wasn’t on my bingo card

supremey/n: I KNOW THAT’S RIGHT

————————————————————————

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f1waggossip

f1waggossip: Y/N re-debuts at the paddock.

y/naura: ohhhhhhh i know some of y'all are MAD but my girl will stay thriving with the album of the year

softlylando: came back with a bang, goddamnnnn

mclarengirly: lando is definitely bagging a podium for her today!!

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landonorris

landonorris: i like her for her

y/nusername: Even in my worst times, you could see the best in me. 🖤

ferrariheart: shut up this is so cute

norrisreputation: mans really said we've been together all this time LMAO

babyfaceoscar: where is everyone who was calling her a red flag and saying her and lando didn't belong together?

dailylando: been real quiet since reputation dropped

magicy/n: i woulda stfu too after she released something like call it what you want, nevermind lando's promotion helmet LMAO

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y/nusername

y/nusername: The Reputation World Tour officially began and I can’t thank you enough for showing up for me, when I thought I couldn’t even show up for myself. I might make the same mistakes, burn bridges and never learn, but I know I did one thing right: have the best, most loyal fans. Also, it seems right to thank the man who inspired me to write way too many love songs for this album, the king of my heart, landonorris. 🖤

landonorris: i believe i was also called gorgeous and stuff

y/nusername: I am truly never complimenting you again

[mcondance]

come close; hobie brown

getting high and talking about anarchy with some old 90's shit playing is a crazy way to fall for someone. but it happens.

pairing hobie brown x Black!afab!fem! reader

contents lots of weed, different terms for weed (mary jane, cess), talks of killing politicians (y’all r both anarchists so.), masturbation (both you and hobie), making out, fingering, riding, missionary, mating press, creampie, unprotected sex (they're horny man dwbi), dirty talk, cervix kissing, lotsssss of praise, porn with plot (sorry i love plot 🙏🏾)

words 4.7k.. back on my longer fic shit!

warnings reader wears lipgloss, barely proofread so if you see any mistakes pls shoot me an ask!, umm i use the n word once!, i’m also,, not that great at writing his voice yet so.. hope it’s at least sorta accurate :3

extras the form i wrote this in is kinda,, unique igs but it flows rlly well i feel.

song shoutouts special thanks to lipstick lover by janelle monae, come close by common and mary j. blige, and green eyes by erykah badu!

signing off happy father’s day to hobie 🫶🏾

—

not quite plug!hobie, but hobie who always has weed, who you smoke with the first time you buy from him.

you usually don’t smoke with randoms, but you hear some old 90's rap playing from inside his car, and he invites you in when you comment on it.

"what you know bout this?" you ask with a smile.

"a lot, actually. you wanna smoke and listen?"

not quite plug!hobie who's fine as fuck as he sits opposite you in his ride, tall and darkskin with cool ass hair. wild ass accent and even wilder style, but he makes it work. his music taste adds on to his overall allure.

but his political views? god. the charm in the shape of a little 'a' surrounded by a circle hanging from his mirror lets you know that he ain't like these other niggas.

he's an anarchist. so far, you're the only anarchist you know. it's so rare to find someone who has the same values as you.

not quite plug!hobie who's car you leave with music recs clumsily typed into your notes, and someone to talk about politics with, though you're too shy to text the pretty boy with the good weed, so you're sure it'll never happen.

not quite plug!hobie who texts you when you get home to make sure you arrived safely.

"driving while high ain't safe, ya know? you at home?"

"i've done it before. i made it home."

not quite plug!hobie who's so nice to you, complimenting your outfits and hair, even noticing when you meet him the 3rd time with a new style.

not quite plug! hobie who you find out has been giving you discounts when your friends ask if you ever bought from him after their recommendation, and you run them in on the details. you think it’s just cause y’all smoked the first time you ever bought from him and you bonded over political views and music. you don’t think nothing else of it.

not quite plug!hobie who you find yourself thinking about more and more often, ever since that first time y'all smoked together.

not quite plug!hobie who finds himself in the same predicament.

not quite plug!hobie who answers the door on your 6th buy in a pair of red sweats and a tight white t-shirt that hugs his lanky frame, hair tied up with a blue shoe string. he invites you into his crib, citing reasons of having no one else to talk to about his views with. after all, it's the first time you both have time to sit and talk and listen to music instead of a quick deal since that first time.

not quite plug!hobie who you get faded as fuck with, this time sharing a joint on his janky couch, heavy hands brushing against each other with each pass. he tries to ignore the aching in his very core every time you speak your mind, your aligning politics driving him crazy.

you mirror him, shaking off the.. arousal?.. no, it can't be. you can't be getting all heated just cause a man is an anarchist. whatever. just ignore it.

not quite plug!hobie who laughs when you tell him straight up, “people aren’t killing politicians anymore. that’s our fuckin’ problem.”

"really? you're wild. but i get it."

"course you do." you nod, taking another drag of the joint. erykah badu's "green eyes" is playing quietly in the background of your convo. hobie starts laughing.

"what?" you smile.

"song's called green eyes, right? well we got red eyes." it's corny and wouldn't be funny if you two weren't high as shit, but you are high as shit, so it's fucking hilarious.

not quite plug!hobie who's eyes linger on you as he pulls laugh after laugh out of your chest with his snarky little jokes.

not quite plug!hobie who walks you to your car after your smoke session, telling you to get home safely. he passes out after his head hits the bed, that after smoke sleep being some of the best he's ever had. he tries to chase you out of his mind as he succumbs to the cess.

not quite plug!hobie who lights a joint and then pulls his dick out the next day, hard and heavy, and strokes it thinking about his pretty little client— friend? whatever — hips stuttering as he wraps his hand around his thick base. he's tried to shake you off, went all day distracting himself with this and that, but it's not working.

not quite plug!hobie who cums in white spurts splattering on his chest to the thought of making you cum in a room filled with smoke, some old r&b playin as he dicks you down the way he's been wanting to since the first time your pretty ass came to him asking for some weed. he wants you bent over on the end of his bed, eyes low and red while he fills you up and fucks you good, gives you his dick like he feels you so rightfully deserve.

not quite plug!hobie who you seriously can't stop thinking of. last night's smoke session has you on edge, so you light another joint, but weed always gets you horny, so when you slip your fingers into your panties and touch yourself to the thought of the pretty darkskin boy with the piercings and cool hair pushing his fat cock into your pretty hole, you blame it on the mary jane sitting pretty in your veins.

the fault lies in the mary jane for making you think about him laid on top of you, talking you through it as he damn near kisses your cervix, his wiry hands roaming your body. the fault lies in the mary jane for having your legs shaking, imagining your pretty plug folding you in half and ruining you, leaving you and your cunt sore and satisfied and dripping his cum.

not quite plug!hobie who cleans up while telling himself that he can't do this again, that you're not interested in him.

not quite plug!hobie who you block out of your mind as you shower. what you did wasn't right. it won't happen again.

not quite plug!hobie who you don’t buy from for a minute, cause you’re trying to stop smoking so much, for a while. you still keep in contact with him, though. daily texts, funny memes, and of course talks of anarchy. one day, you call him “bee” instead of hobie, and it sticks. he likes it.

not quite plug!hobie… who you fuck yourself to again, this time slipping three fingers inside your greedy cunt to satiate the need for him. it’s almost every night, and it’s a different fantasy every time. 

in the backseat of his car, bent over on his counter, pressed into his couch cushions. your head pressing into your pillows while visions of hobie’s lips pressed to your ear praising you endlessly for being his good girl and taking him so well torment you. you’re insatiable, but when you text you have to pretend like you don’t want his piercing scraping against your clit as he eats you like a man starved.

not quite plug!hobie who has the same dilemma as you.. he can’t even go a couple of hours without growing hard in his sweats, glimpses of you spread out on his bed with your thighs thrown over his shoulders, or you face down ass up, sobbing in pure ecstasy. it’s not made better by y’all’s constant texting, more and more of your personality being revealed to him each day.

you both share one brain, really. and that one brain finds each other attractive, of course, but it’s not just that. it’s not just pure lust. you two have more in common than anyone you’ve ever met, and that sinks ache and want so deep into you that every night and day is spent trying to rid yourselves of it.

not quite plug!hobie who you buy from again almost two weeks later, two weeks that were filled with funny conversations and deep discussions of politics through text. two weeks that solidify the growing feelings you have for each other. this time, he’s wearing a pair of blue sweats and a tight black tee, and his hair is tied up just like the first time you came to his house. this time, brandy’s playing throughout his crib.

you’ve only known each other for about two months, but it feels like longer, for the both of you. you take your seat on the couch as he grabs his stash and his papers, pulling out one paper to roll up.

not quite plug!hobie who sits a little bit closer than he did last time. he smells good. your head is swimming already. 

not quite plug!hobie who lights up and then lets you take the first hit, watching you wrap your glossy lips around the joint like he doesn’t wish they were wrapped around his dick instead. you pass the joint to him and settle onto the couch, raking your eyes over his lanky frame, and what you swear is a hard-on. no way. it has to be the weed. 

he settles back onto the couch too, extending his long arms on the back. his arm comes up behind your head, and you rest your head on it, smiling dopily when he directs his hazy gaze your way. his playlist must have ended. you're left with him and your thoughts.

“you’re funny, you know?” he says through a breath of smoke, passing the joint to you.

“yeah?” you reply, hitting it again. “everyone tells me i’m just corny.”

“you’re not corny. you’re pretty hilarious, if i’m bein’ honest.” 

and there it is again.

not quite plug!hobie whose words light that fire in you again, the fire that you’ve been dousing every night for the past two fucking weeks. fuck, not here. not now. you grab the joint from him in an attempt to push more weed into your system to flush him out, but you meet his pretty fuckin’ brown eyes and they’re low and his lips looks so good and he smells so good and suddenly you’re asking not quite plug who you’re two seconds away from fucking!hobie why he’s been charging you less than everyone else who buys from him and why he invited you into his car and into his house, twice.

and not quite plug who really wants to kiss you right now!hobie can’t even joke and twist his way out of this one. he’s tired of cumming alone to the thought of you. the worst you can do is leave. but the best? god, so many things.

“'s cause i think you’re pretty. n' i really wanna kiss you right now.”

“then do it.”

not quite plug!hobie who tastes like weed and chocolate. the hand that was resting on the back of the couch finds it’s way to the small of your back, fingers drawing nonsensical shapes into it. your hands find his knee and his neck as you press your lips into his. you slide closer to him, and then he’s using the hand resting on your back to push you into his lap, hands settling on your hips as you settle above him, your hands circling around his neck.

“how long?” you ask between kisses.

“since the day you walked up to my car.” he responds quietly, cheeks heating up with embarrassment. he’s quick to trap your lips again.

god, he is hard. and he’s big, you can feel him pressing against the inside of your thigh. you hold your tongue, figuring you could deal with that later. right now, you just need to get out what you’ve been keeping in since the day you two met and you spotted the little ‘a’ hanging from his mirror.

the kiss grows deeper and he grows a little less shy, starting to use his hands gripping your waist to grind you against him. heat floods you when you realize that he's pulling you onto his cock, pressing your cunt against him, separated by the fabric of his sweats and your shorts.

you find his rhythm, falling into the pattern of his soft pushes and presses, a gentle lull of bodies moving against each other that makes you even more comfortable than you already are. soft little groans escaping the both of you, mixing with the smoke and infatuation in the air.

he lets you move the way you want, lithe fingers tracing up your back, hovering over where your hair falls onto your neck. he keeps kissing you for a minute, seemingly frozen. but then he's pulling away to speak, "can i- can i touch your hair?"

you stop moving with a smile. you nod. "yeah. thanks for asking." you kiss him again.

"course, love." he nods, and then he kisses you again. his long fingers snake into your hair, gently and softly. he strokes his hands through your locks, in time with your kisses and the movements of your hips that have started again. hands migrating from his neck, sliding down his chest, laying flat-palmed. your fingers slide under his tee, curling and gripping to pull him ever closer to you.

not quite plug!hobie who could kiss you forever. you could too, but you want more. you need him. so you pull away just a little, murmur "can feel you against me." chills rack through him at your words.

"i know. 'm so hard, darlin'." he pushes his hips up just a little, drawing a muffled whine from you.

"been wantin' you so bad.." you trail off. hobie takes it upon himself to move his hands from your hair to the waistband of your shorts, eyes fixed on yours, watching your every move. you nod, giving him permission to snake his fingers into your shorts, fingers that are met with no resistance.

"no panties? did'ya plan this, doll?" he smiles, slim fingers exploring your wetness, doing what he can with the limited space.

"mhm." you shake your head. "'s more comfortable." he hums in agreement. he circles your clit with his middle finger, dipping towards your entrance to collect more slick. you push down against his fingers, causing him to have to crane his wrist to reach you.

"can we take these off? can't touch you the way i wanna." you blush, averting your eyes to focus on the hand that disappears into your shorts.

"yeah." you breathe shakily, standing up and letting hobie pull them down your legs, hands on his shoulders as balance. your shirt is long, and it falls down to give you some modesty. hobie throws your shorts somewhere behind you before he leans back, giving you space to sit back down.

he looks so fucking good, brown eyes staring at you like you hung the stars in the sky. he reaches out for you, pulling you back into his lap by your hips. his hand disappears under your shirt while his lips find yours again, exploring you more freely this time.

"so wet, doll." he murmurs between one kiss and another, smiling when you whine. his fingers move at different speeds, pressing in different areas and circling at different speeds until he finds a combination that makes you jolt against him, whining "bee."

"thaaaaat's it, love." this time, you don't return your lips to his, instead tucking your head into his neck as you hump shamelessly against his hand, his cock pressing hard and heavy against your thigh. "keep going, baby," he urges, "show me how it feels."

and you do. you shiver and shake and whine and groan in pleasure, pressing kisses in his brown skin as he touches you the way he touched himself thinking about.

not quite plug!hobie who presses his thumb into your clit, sliding his hand farther down to tease your drooling hole. "'s wet, love. g'na feel so good 'round me." you moan loudly at that, at the thought of your fantasies coming true. you cant your hips down, sliding down his fingers until they're seated inside you, stroking gently at your sensitive walls.

pulling them out softly, he curls his fingers, twisting his wrist as you whine and mouth at his neck. "'s okay. you can bite." he nods, catching onto what you were holding yourself back from. you still don't, resign to licking and sucking instead.

until his fingers catch the spongy spot inside you, and your teeth are sinking into the column. "fuck," you damn near shout, pushing yourself onto his hand. he groans in response, pleased to be pleasing you and indulging in the pain you inflict on him. thumb on your clit and fingers playing with that spot, he brings his other hand from your hip to your hair to soothe you, to ground you.

it's sweet, really, his hand in your hair while the other one touches you the way you've been dreaming of. coos and hums meet your ears, soft sounds of affirmation egging you on to let yourself get lost in the pleasure he delivers you. arousal steadily dripping out of your hole, hobie's fingers sliding easier and easier inside you until he can pull out and slip right back in.

"you're so pretty, dove, fuckin' dreamgirl." he murmurs, staring down at your pretty face, arched eyebrows turned down in ecstasy, lips parted. the praise takes you closer and closer to the edge, his deep voice reverberating throughout your entire being, the pangs of arousal in your clit growing harder and faster. you're close.

you're so goddamn close to cumming for a boy you just wanted to buy from. his long fingers reach deep, deeper than you could ever even dream of. “hobie- i- i’m g’na-” you stutter against his neck, hips stuttering against his fingers.

“‘s okay, love, cum. i’m right here.” the rubber band snaps, and you're tightening your thighs around his hand while you shake and shiver, eyes closed tight with soft whines of "hobie, god it feels so good" tumbling from your lips. you tighten around his fingers, too, squeeze him so tight he winces, cause he just knows you're gonna feel so good wrapped around him. he pushes that thought away, though, focused on helping you ride out your orgasm.

fingers pressing into your clit and that spot inside you, he makes sure to milk every last second of your climax, eyes fixed on your ethereal features. aftershocks still racking through you, you finally open your eyes, and he takes it as a sign to gently pull his fingers out of you and wipe them on his sweats, and you shudder at the feeling.

"that was. . so much better than i imagined. n' i imagined it being pretty good." you smile and giggle, placing a kiss on his neck. he laughs in response, raising his eyebrows at your confession.

"bet i'm a better fuck than you imagined, too." the air in the room shifts again, and suddenly you're aware of his cock pressed against your thigh through his sweats again.

"bet you are."

you raise up, kissing him again as your hands find the waistband of his sweats and invite themselves in, meeting his dick that's been hard since you first sat down on his couch. "and i'm the one who planned this? you're free-balling." you murmur against his lips, and he mirrors your words from earlier.

"'s more comfortable, 's all— fuck." he's cut off when you pull his cock out of his sweats and run your finger over his pretty brown tip, dipping into his slit. his hips thrust up, chasing your soft hand. "g'na drive me crazy." he almost whines, jerking against you when you swipe your thumb against his aching tip again.

"just returnin' the favor." you shoot back, raising up to hover over him, swiping his leaking dick through your wetness. he wraps his hand around his thick base, moving in time with your teasing strokes. "you're big." you groan, hesitating to seat yourself on him.

"i know, doll, you can take it though. we'll make you take it." he speaks into your clothed chest, muffled and horny, and you’re sure he means what he says. you drip even more at his words, sticky slick wetting his fat tip.

not quite plug!hobie whose hands are on your hips as you sink down onto his pretty dick, whining into his neck as he encourages you. “you got it, baby, you’re takin’ me so well. god, she’s so wet.”

"she— fuck that's so hot," you moan, eyes rolling back at his words.

"mhm?" he hums.

you don't respond, too busy focusing on his fat cock pushing into you, focusing on the way you both make it fit, exactly like he said you would. finally, he bottoms out, your thighs resting against his sweats.

"g' job, babe. knew you could take me." you jolt against him, his heady words sending another pang of arousal straight to where you two meet.

not quite!plug hobie who you tell to move, raising your hips up as he pulls out, meeting him in the middle as he fills you back up. his hips slot against yours again, and his big chocolate eyes are fixed on yours, gazing upon you in adoration, while your eyes are fixed on where he disappears into you.

"so big, feels s'good. ." you whisper, meeting his gaze. the look in his eyes has chills running down your spine as you raise your hips again, choosing to connect your lips with his again. hobie starts to find a rhythm, now, wrapping his long arms around your waist. you swap spit with him as his hips meet your ass, taking over.

body bouncing with each of his thrusts into your pussy, arms wrapped around his neck. his lips slipping against yours, plump and wet. you both take it slow, basking in the feeling of finally being like this with someone you've wanted since you first saw them.

he fills you up so nicely, thick cock nestled in your achy walls, leaking tip just barely kissing your cervix as he thrusts just a bit harder and you push down a little more.

"y'feel me, darlin? 'm all the way in, at the end of you, god, 'm g'na make you mine." he babbles in pleasure, pushing his hips up even harder. still soft, but firm, and deliberate.

you nod against his lips, hand resting on his cheek. "feel you, bee, feel you in my fuckin' stomach, i swear." you feed off of him and he feeds off of you, kissing and slapping your hips against the others, wild and wanting. "fuckin' me so good, bee, makin' me yours."

"makin' me yours, doll, pussy's squeezin' me like she don't w'na let go."

"don't wanna let go, wan' you so bad." you confess, bringing your ass down onto his cock again. "i— fuck," you sob. his cock curves just right, and with his tip pressing against your spot now, hobie's found new determination.

"that it?" he asks, making sure to keep hitting that spongy patch of skin with every thrust, sheathing his cock in your wet heat.

"'s it, hobie, feels so good, shit." the high has worn off by now, leaving pure emotions and desire driving you two. you get tight around him again, cunt pulsing with every slam of his hips against yours. you feel so good around him, so tight and wet.

"'m g'na—, you're gonna make me cum, bee."

he moves one hand from around your waist at that, sliding between you two to toy with your clit, thumb rubbing wild shapes against the throbbing bud.

"fuck," you cry, grinding against his thumb and down onto his dick.

"you close again, doll? wan' you to wet me up, ma'me a mess," he encourages, big brown eyes fixed on yours like they've been the whole night.

"'m so close, bee, wanna cum for you, wanna wet you up."

"then do it." he mirrors your words from earlier, and the pleasure pulsing through your veins and infatuation swirling around in your blood gets to be too much, and you cum on his cock, still slamming your hips down onto him, meeting his thrusts in the middle. "thaaaat's it, doll." you hear hobie praise through the fog in your mind, bounces turned to messy grinds as you get all tight around him, cumming hard.

"y'alright, love?" he asks, moving your hair out of your face.

"mhm. w'na go again, you haven't come yet." he chuckles at your words, wrapping both hands around your waist and kissing you again.

"lay back, love." he murmurs against your lips, flipping you onto the couch. your back meets the smooth fabric as he lays you down, pulling his tee and his sweats off. you follow suit, stripping your shirt off and throwing it somewhere behind his couch. his watchful eyes fall on your face, then your tits, then your cunt, taking your body in for the first time.

he finds his place on top of you, balancing himself on his elbows as he kisses you again. he reaches down, but you stop him. "lemme do it," you urge, replacing his hand. you line him up with your sopping entrance, nodding twice to tell him to push in.

the stretch is so fucking good, his cock bullying it's way into your tight cunt again.

"fuck, that's it," he curses, watching your face as he seats himself in your once again.

"so deep. ." you trail off, looking down at your stomach, and oh fuck, no way.

"hobie, hobes, look," you urge, and he points his gaze to where you're looking.

"oh, love, look at that. can see myself, right there," he presses down on the bulge he creates, ripping a broken moan straight from your throat.

"fuck me, please," you sob, squirming under him. he nods, understanding, and finds his rhythm easier this time, lean hips slapping against you. your body jolts up the couch with every thrust, choppy whines of nonsensical sentences leaving your mouth.

not quite plug who's absolutely pussydrunk!hobie can't get enough of your cunt, the way you squeeze him oh so tight, the wet squelches of your heat drawing him further into madness. he needs to go deeper, needs to fuck you harder, so he raises up, throwing your legs over his shoulders, leaning back down to bury his cock deep inside you.

"baby, fuck." it's a gritted groan, head rolling back onto the couch as he mouths at your neck, licking and biting at your heated skin. his thrusts are slow and firm, dick kissing your cervix, the slaps sounding out through his living room.

you're both quiet this time around, too blissed out to do anything but fuck, allowing yourselves to succumb to pleasure. every inch of his cock fills you, driving you crazy, driving him crazy too. it's intimate, his lips on your neck, your fingers palming at his back, limbs tangled together. and you can feel it building up in you again.

"'m g'na cum, hobes." he moves one of his arms, bringing his thumb down to rub at your clit, still mouthing at your neck. he lets it happen this time, doesn't urge you or change anything he's doing, and you coast into your climax so gratifyingly that you almost cry, squeezing him tight once again. now, your focus is on making him cum.

"wan' you to cum, hobes."

"gotta pull out, love. we ain' even put a rubber on." he realizes.

"no you don't. 'm clean. jus' fill me up, please." in your right mind, you wouldn't let him, but you're not in your right mind, and neither is he. so he cums with a groan, shaking as he spills pressed against your cervix.

the air's.. different now, satisfied and calm. you both lay there for a while, until hobie's picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up.

after, he lights another joint that you two share tucked under his covers, hugged up like a couple.

not quite plug!hobie holds you as you both fall asleep.

[mrs-monaghan]

Tbh I'm a jikooker, but I find it incredibly difficult to fit a healthy long-term relationship into the same timeline as all of jimin's solo work. It's not the pronouns or taking one lyric very literally, its the entire thing, plus comments from him and his producers. To me, you'd have to do some serious olympic level mental gymnastics to make that make sense. I don't doubt that jikook have a special bond, I've definitely seen things between them that definitely look like sexual attraction to me and things that surpass friendship boundaries, but I can't in good faith say that they're together in some official long-term way if I actually listen to jimin and his work.

I've seen some jikookers think they broke up for a while, but I have to question if those people have ever been through a breakup because the little bit of distance/separation/awkwardness we did see from them during chapter 2 is nothing compared to the type of tension that would be there if a relationship that intimate and intertwined had separated, especially considering the dark feelings jimin was feeling. He wouldn't have been cutely commenting on jungkook's lives and jungkook wouldn't have been asking to hang-out or getting excited to see jimin in his comments.

Idk, I'm sure someone could twist everything a certain way and only take certain things at face-value and then make everything else abstract, etc. to make the case that they are together, but I don't really see it. You look at face-off, alone, and just his general dark feelings during Face, then look at the creation of Muse and how him and his producers said he couldn't relate to the love-dovey beginning songs, which is how they ended up making Who (despite the fact that jikookers try to distance him from the song since he doesn't have writing credits even though he sat in the recording room telling them what he wanted and saying it felt like reading his diary). I think jimin could have very well gone through a pretty awful breakup along with the inner turmoil he was going through post-covid, but I don't think it was with jungkook if he did. I still enjoy jikook's bond either way at the end of the day, but yeah I don't really get how anyone can take an honest look at jimin's work and his words and think he was in a long-term healthy love-of-his-life relationship during that time or into chapter 2.

Not trying to change your opinion or anything, honestly I don't really see it discussed much in jikooker spaces (besides bad-faith stuff like tkkers stirring up shit over pronouns in lyrics which is just dumb) and when it is, some jikookers are pretty pick-and-choose about what they deem to be true to jimin's feelings and what isn't. Which I get being nuanced, but sometimes it does feel like a "well this fits my beliefs so clearly this is true to jimin and this doesn't so it means nothing because he didn't write it" or whatever. I honestly get annoyed with the bad-faith arguers because it prevents being able to have actual discussions about some of this stuff in our little jikooker corner of tumblr. Like "he said her, he's clearly straight! he danced with a girl, straight!" stfu.

I don't have much to say to you anon. Not really. Not anything that hasn't been said anyway. Which you've seen and decided its jkkrs doing mental gymnastics. "I'm a Jikooker but..." its never a great way to start a sentence. It just gives major insecure jkkr vibes which i just 😬😬😬😬😬😬😬 you either believe in them or you don't. There is no if, and or buts.

I will leave you with this; over the years, antis and (insecure) jkkrs alike have always found a way to conclude Jkk aren't as close anymore or they broke up or some other bullshit. But what happens everytime Jikook resurface and we see them together again?

NOTHING HAS CHANGED!!!

Nothing ever changes with these 2! They come back closer, more in sync, happier, more in love and their relationship more established than ever. This happens every👏🏽damn👏🏽time👏🏽 Everytime!

Then the insecure jkkrs will be like "jkk is real" again.

And then we will go without content for a while and once again we are back here with the jkk aren't as close argument. Once again. It is an exhausting cycle that I refuse to be a part of.

You can try and nit pick various reasons as to why Jikook aren't in an established rlship, but I will chose to focus on reasons why they are definitely 130000000% in a relationship. Like the fact that they are enlisted together rn, the fact that they could have done AYS with other members but chose eo. Or the fact that Jimin wrote his name on JK's chest with sunscreen and I dont even want to imagine how he did that. What position they were in that would justify people calling them brothers 😂

You do you anon. I'mma just be over here enjoying Jimin promote the hell out of his favourite JK song.

Tweet

Look at him so proud of his man 🥺🥺

[coco-loco-nut]

die first

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: Max’s wife is an international superstar, who’s anxieties tend to show up in her songs

Inspired by: die first by Nessa Barret

requests open! masterlist prequel

—————————

“What are you writing, Schatje?” Max asks, sliding onto the piano bench beside you.

“I wrote a song based on my vows,” you tell him, writing down the last couple chords, humming a rhythm to yourself.

Max, ever since I met you, I knew you were special. You’re my fire and my safety, you never try to break me, and you promise to always stay. I promise those same things to you. I don’t want to live without you, I never want to learn how to fall asleep without you, I want to be in love with you forever. You are my forever.

“Play it for me?” he asks when you finish, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. You nod, gently pressing the keys, mentally noting the kinks to fix before recording tomorrow. “It’s beautiful, the fans are going to love it, I love it,” Max compliments and you grin at him.

“I’m excited to announce the album and tour, and I’m glad we follow F1 around Europe. I get to spend more of summer with you that way,” you lean on his shoulder. You dedicated the album to him, and your third record is set to be the best selling one yet.

You took the unconventional route and took his last name after marrying him this year, despite having two hit albums and international fame. You still publish under your maiden name, but the name change caused a lot of shock.

You became an international superstar with your first release and it’s only grown since. Despite your relationship with Max spanning most of your music career, the both of you are able to spend a relatively low profile life in Monaco. Everything you record in the studio down the street is sent to your Hollywood label and released from there.

The next few months see you doing press for the surprise drop that was your bestselling third album and hyping the tour. Tour rehearsals fell during training time for Max and the both of you were going nonstop.

“I have to go to bed, Schatje, love you,” Max yawns over Facetime, you wish him goodnight as you stretch for your last show in North America. Tomorrow you jet to Europe to pick up that leg of the tour.

By the time you reach London, your tour has officially lined up with F1, which means your personal box near the stage is full of drivers, who likely are being bombarded with autograph requests. You slip into your black, sparkly bodysuit and matching hells; hair, makeup, and nails perfectly done; and grab your matching microphone before heading to your mark under the stage. The roar of the crowd energized you as the intro video plays.

“Come on London, let’s have some fun,” you say into the mic before smoke fills the stage above you and the trap door opens, the platform beneath you rising you up. You launch into your opening act. Half an hour later, after prancing and dancing and singing around the stage you take a pause to introduce the next act. The crowd cheers loudly before you have a chance to speak. You look around, smiling at everyone even if you can’t see them.

“London, thank you, my name is Y/n Verstappen, that’s my show for tonight,” you tease, the crowd silences. “Nah, I’m kidding. I wouldn’t leave you hanging like that, not when you are one of the best crowds I’ve had on tour,” you tell them, giving them a second to cheer.

“Since you have been such a great host, I wanted to share something special about this next song, something not many people know, but not quite yet. Quick shoutout to the F1 drivers here tonight, including my handsome husband, y’all are cool. But not as cool as everyone else here,” you purposely leave them hanging a little, blowing a kiss in the direction of Max.

“Alright, so, this next song is not only the title of my new album, but I also took parts of my vows and wrote them into the song. I hope you like it,” you say and the crowd cheers as the first chords play behind you.

“Thank you, London! Goodnight!” After the concert, you rush backstage and into Max’s open arms.

“You were incredible, Liefje” Max kisses you. Charles jokingly gags behind you.

“Thank you, Maxie,” you whisper, hugging him tight. Your assistant hands you a towel to put around your neck and a bottle of water which you happily take.

“You had a great show,” the other drivers tell you, all complimenting the show and thanking you for the tickets. You thank them for attending and excuse yourself so you could change. Max reminds them of the post-show dinner and club plans and carries you to your dressing room. You collapse on the couch, as Max chuckles at your dramatics.

“I swear the best part of a show is laying down after,” you groan and Max gently takes off your heels causing you to moan in relief.

“Y/n! People are going to think we are doing things in here,” Max laughs, you wave him off, changing into comfy but club appropriate clothes. Max helps you take off your stage makeup, and redoes your hair as you put a little bit of normal makeup on.

“Ready, Maxie?” you ask, grabbing your purse. It is nice knowing that assistants will take everything back to the hotel for you.

“I promise I will always come back home to you, I know my driving style is agressive, but I won’t make you learn how to fall asleep without me,” Max says, his hands holding your face gently.

“I know, but I will always be scared when you are on the track. You can’t promise nothing will happen, but I know you will always try,” you tell him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. You stay in his embrace for a minute until rejoining half of the paddock. I can be in love forever, if I die first…

[hai7ani]

Haitani Rindou, Me and My Girlfriend Tokyo Revengers' Ending Special

Your birthday is cold. The wind is big and your jacket is not doing its job good enough. Orangey leaves fall from the trees and they land on your heads. Sweet potatoes have never tasted so sweet before, but he thinks your smile is sweeter.

Tokyo has been getting pretty cold these days, but Rindou is always warm.

"It's soooo cold." You hide your face into his much thicker jacket and mewl like a sweet little kitten seeking for warmth. He reels your body in closer to wrap his arms around your figure, tight. "Told'cha to wear the other jacket." He sways you both around lightly. Your paper bag from Chrome Hearts is heavy and he grabs it off your fingers.

"But I wanted to wear this one for today. You got it for me." You sneak a peek from his chest to look at his face. He rolls his eyes in faux annoyance as you smile cheekily.

Draken is not happy with what he's seeing.

"What the hell? Did this guy just skip the gang meeting to date? That's some lame shit." He clicks his tongue, irritated. A thick vein bulges from his forehead and he starts stomping towards you both, who're standing under a tree all cuddled up together and so, so cozy 一 it's such an eye-sore.

Emma stops him before he can get any closer. "Oh, leave them alone, would you? Let them date in peace. Haitani Ran attended the meeting anyway!" She scolds, hands on her hips. Senju drags along Hinata with sparkly eyes and a wide-open mouth. "Ehhh? She's so pretty! They look so good together."

"Hah? Ya tellin' me four eyes' got a girlfriend?!" Hakkai's strikingly blue eyes almost falls out of his sockets as he witness the scene before him: you're stepping on your tippy toes to place a smooch on Rindou's cheek sweetly, and he's actually smiling like a damn fool. Sanzu only snarls 一 a common reaction for a guy who's just broken up with his girlfriend, while Hanma is busy smirking as he lights up a cigarette. "He's got some balls showing up here all lovey-dovey." ...He'd just broken up with his girlfriend, too.

Mitsuya snickers, "they've been together for a very long time already, I'm surprised you lot just found out about this," while Souya and Nahoya seem normal about it. "Do you guys not follow his SoundCloud? He makes a lot of songs for her. He shared his link with us willingly, too."

Chifuyu pitches in. "Last week they visited the pet shop to get some cat supplies, and he pretended not to know me with his nose up high, but he made me give him a staff discount while she was busy playing with Peke J. Evil person, I say." Baji smacks the back of his head, "that's just you, dude. He said hi to me and Kazutora." The said man raises his hand as a confirmation.

Inui's face does not change. "Draken wasn't around so he doesn't know, but they both came by D&D the other day to make me check on his car. We don't fix cars, bruh, but he still left with his engine problem solved. No idea how, 'cause I didn't do shit. Goofy guy."

Kokonoi sighs. "It's been ages since they've been doing this, guys. Has no one ever realised the freaking hickeys on his neck? He's fuckin' cocky 'bout 'em too."

But as always, Draken is quick to get pissed off even with reason. He scoffs, "So what? We meet up just once a week to talk about the gang. Is it so hard to show up for just two hours every Sunday?"

...Mikey is always faster. He's already looming over you both (in his head he is) while the others are still busy busting their heads over you two.

"You." His voice is flat and his eyes are squinted, very annoyed. He looks like a grumpy child pissed that he didn't get a souvenir from his classmate. It doesn't help that he is much shorter than your boyfriend as well.

"What the hell are you doing here? If you wanna skip a meeting at least don't show up at our venue to show off. Are you asking for a beating?"

You poke your head out from his jacket just enough to take a quick look at Mikey who is standing behind you both, arms crossed while tapping his feet on the ground. Rindou turns his head and eyes the growing crowd who're slowly circling around you both.

Shion and Izana shrug simultaneously with their hands in the air when Rindou glares at them. 'We didn't say shit,' but his best friend mouths to him anyway, 'dumbass'. And for once, Kakucho is laughing.

From the corner of his eyes he can see Ran slowly approach you both, left behind by the crowd while sucking on a popsicle at this weather like the maniac he is. He quickly stands properly to fix on your clothing gently without letting you go from the confines of his jacket 一 to keep you warm like the loving boyfriend he is or to keep your face hidden like the petty boyfriend he is, you're not too sure.

He faces the crowd with you hiding behind his back, eyes wide as you listen.

"It's my girl's birthday today." He simply mutters, loud enough for the crowd to hear. No attitude, no eye roll 一 just five words, plain and simple.

"Huh?" The steam rising off of Mikey's head vanishes like a fire being put off by water, and Draken's expression significantly drops. He immediately coughs into his fist and bows a little when he sees you looking at him, pretty eyes folded into thin crescents as you pat on your boyfriend's back a little, whispering into his ear to ease up.

"What? I can't take you out to shop on your birthday now?" He says it to you with the expression of a sad little mistreated puppy and you try your best to shut him up while laughing. "Yes, yes you can. Now quiet, be nice to them." You say between giggles.

"Sorry. Happy birthday." Mikey immediately apologises, dazed. You snicker against Rindou's back and try your hardest to nod as a courtesy with your face half-hidden.

He still has something to say, though 一 like the big boy who doesn't like being misunderstood that he is 一 despite your best efforts on making him play nice and not be rude to his friends.

"I didn't come all the way here to show off, baka. We're waiting for this guy to celebrate together." He explains, one finger pointing to his nonchalant brother, as you both meet with Ran under the lamppost.

"And, dating isn't lame. Still being single is." His gaze switches to Emma who is playing with the buttons of her cardigan silently behind Draken, with a teasing smirk on his face.

"Asshole-"

"Bye. Don't follow us." He mocks the way Draken's mouth moves with a grin and you hit his arm while lightly bowing to the others as a goodbye.

"She looks so familiar." Takemichi whispers as he watch the three of you take off, and Hinata hums for him to continue. "I feel like I've seen her before."

Mikey looks at him with a soft smile on his face, as he takes a glance back at the rest who are still discussing about you two. They're all loud and boisterous, but they're having fun, and they're alive.

And suddenly the wires connect in his head.

Yeah, that's right. In the timeline before this, the timeline before that, and in all the timelines he's met with the Haitani Brothers, he's seen you too. You and Rindou side by side, and you're always together with Ran. You and him were never together before this because of your disapproval on their dangerous gang activities, but you are together now, in this timeline, where Ran and Rindou aren't just juvie kids and they're no longer cold-blooded murderers.

Mikey knows that too.

"Finally a happy timeline, right, Takemicchi?"

i'm extremely late to this but happy 2 years since tr ended and also not much tags cus idk what this is honestly. just read for fun LOL :p

[katiascraft]

“am I too much for you? maybe I’m too much for everyone” | CL16

parings: Charles Leclerc x insecure!reader

summary: you feel insecure and you’re struggling but Charles makes sure you know how important you are to the world (specially his world).

now playing: “If I weren’t me” by Katherine Li

warnings: not English native speaker could there be errors. None proofread. Talk about sadness and destructive inner talk. Insecure reader. Readers pov’s.

words: +1,5k words.

a/n: heyyyy I am back!!! I disappeared for a year 💀 consistency it’s not my thing I guess. I’m finally finishing university this year!! So I guess I’ll have more time to write. Hope you like it! First on Charles. New obsession: F1 drivers. Get ready I got plenty more on my plans :p. Remember to like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3

MASTERLIST

The piano tiles made the sound of the soundtrack of my sadness in this moment. My fingers touched them softly like they were fragile - like me.

Today was a nightmare from the start. Since I woke up I had a knot in my stomach that became bigger and bigger as the time passed through my routine. Sometimes itʼs really hard for me to do daily tasks such as cleaning or even eating. And it was harder if I need to go to events or meetings.

I have episodes of deep sadness Iʼve been treating on therapy. Sometimes I just canʼt control it. Today was one of those days where black and grey took over everything I felt and did. One way I found by being suggested by my therapist was writing down every thought of pain to find kind of a relief. Today itʼs really hard. Iʼm struggling really hard.

Iʼve been alone the whole day. Charles had to go to the Ferrari factory and do his driver tasks as usual. When I woke up he was gone. And maybe that contributed even more to my desperate and pathetic situation. Though I shouldnʼt talk about it like that and be more gentle with myself. It always felt to me negativity has always been my best friend and worst enemy at the same time.

Playing piano helped me so much. Write a song about my pain. Try to give a little light to all of this mess I find myself emerged in. Itʼs really hard for me to open up and seek help when I need it. Specially when it comes to Charles. I donʼt wanna be a burden to him. And I donʼt wanna stress him out with all of my dark side. I always try to brush it off when heʼs around. Most times I just pretend Iʼm happy and everything itʼs alright. As if I wasnʼt feeling too much for him. Or too less. Like Iʼm not worth of his love. Of his attention. Of his smiles. Of everything he did for me.

The fact that Charles asked me out had me shocked. Iʼve never felt like I could compete with all the models and influencers and singers and every really beautiful girl in this world. Iʼve never felt beautiful nor attractive. Yes Iʼm pretty good making jokes. And I talk too much. But Iʼve always felt I cringed people out. Dating people wasnʼt a thing I was really good at. Actually I sucked. And I think I still do. Always overthinking and second guessing every move. Every promise. Everything.

Charles was so sweet to me. He said “youʼre beautiful. Iʼm sure people tell you all the time. But you really areˮ. I couldnʼt help but get really nervous and blush. The most beautiful man Iʼve ever seen was talking to me and saying all of that. I blinked a couple of times. My smile huge. I just laughed softly trying to brush it off.

Since then we became a team. Inseparable. Charles became my best friend. My rock. I donʼt know what I ever did to deserve his love. The way he loved me was so gentle. So caring and loving. At first was hard because his love language was physical touch and that was something I wasnʼt used to. But little by little I got used to and felt amazing. Iʼve never felt so comfortable with anyone but him.

I hate my body. I feel ashamed of my personality. Most times I feel so dumb. So stupid.

I didnʼt realized I was already crying when I felt my tears dropping in my hands on the piano. I didnʼt realized I kept playing in auto-mode. When I was conscious again I started crying badly. I started shaking. I felt so bad. So guilty for even feeling this way. I didnʼt realized Charles have arrived home when I felt his deep voice from behind.

“Baby... whatʼs wrong? Youʼve been crying for a whileˮ I heard his voice and that sent shivers down my spine. I try to hold it together because I feel so embarrassed heʼs seeing me like this.

He sat next to me and hugged me. I hid my face on his neck feeling contempt. Thing is I started crying worse. I couldnʼt control it once it took on me.

“Itʼs okay baby. Itʼs okay.ˮ He whispered on my head while he stroke my hair and my arm pulling me closer. I thanked him mentally for this. I never thought I needed it so much.

Took a while until I calmed myself in his body. I part from him slowly and whipped my face with my hands. After I did he did the same. He whipped my tears so gently. He did the same looking me with bright eyes. Worry was all over his face. I licked my lips. “Iʼm sorry.ˮ I said quietly almost a whisper.

He denided with his head taking my head into his hands and stroked it softly.

“donʼt be sorry baby. Iʼm worried. Whatʼs wrong? Iʼm sorry I wasnʼt home to be with you. Why didnʼt you called me?ˮ I could feel the worry in his voice deep and cracking.

“I didnʼt want to bother to be honest. Itʼs one of those days. A really hard dayˮ my tears wanted to go out again but I holded them.

I saw his eyes turned into a sad look. He leaned on me and kissed my cheek to hugged me strongly in his arms afterwards. I buried my head in his shoulder. His smell calmed me down. I holded him pretty close to me. Strongly as him. I didnʼt want to let go.

“do you wanna talk about what you are feeling love?ˮ He whispered softly. I swallowed hard and pulled away from his so I could look into his beautiful eyes. I loved his eyes. So bright so blue sometimes. To me they felt like staring at the ocean. I stroked his face gently. He grabbed my legs on the little couch in front of the piano it our living room.

“This is one of those days where I donʼt feel enough or maybe too much to handle... all of this darkness in me that sometimes I just canʼt control it. You deserve someone confident and happy just like youˮ I told him softly and honestly. And it felt good to take it out of me for finally. I wanted to cry again but I was making my best efforts to keep it together.

“Cher... you are more than enough for me. You are the most beautiful soul Iʼve ever met. The most beautiful woman Iʼve ever seen. You are the sweetest most caring and fun person. Always there for people. You have the brightest personality. Every time you enter a room you shine. Everyone smiles. To me youʼre happiness though I know that isnʼt the whole you. Youʼre human baby. You are allowed to feel. And to not be okay. And to be okay too. You are not a burden for me. Youʼre my best friend. Mon amour. My future wife. The one whoʼs always there for me. My shoulder to cry on. The one with the greatest jokes. The life of every party I assist. You give a meaning to my life. A reason to live. You are a great daughter. The best friend someone could ask for. The greatest sister. You are a light for every single person that knows you y/n. Donʼt ever feel that you are too much to handle. And I really wanna go and kill the people who made you ever feel you were, I sware. You are amazing baby.ˮ While he was talking you couldnʼt hold it together. You just started crying. He let you do it while he whipped your tears lovingly. He seeing you like this broke his heart. You didnʼt deserve to feel like this. And he wished he could take away all of your pain. That you could see yourself the way he sees you. And feel how happy and enamoured you made him feel. “You can talk to me every time you need itˮ he continued. “you can trust me and we can figure it out together. You donʼt have to go through it alone. Okay? I love you with everything I am y/n. If I could I would take all of this pain away and just make you feel how I feel about you. I promise to me youʼre even better than Carlosˮ he said lastly jokingly making me laugh through my crying.

Now he had a huge smile on his face knowing he could make you feel better. I gave him a peck on his lips as a thank you and as an I love you.

“I donʼt know what I would do without you Charles...ˮ I said sincerely and full of love in between the lines. He gave another kiss back but now it was deeper in feelings. We kissed for a while and it felt that as the kiss continued my pain was going away feeling better every second. After the kissed I hugged him tightly. He gave kisses to my neck making me giggle a little. “I love you Charlie. Youʼre my angelˮ I whispered on his shoulder and he tightened the hug in response.

“And you are mine chérie“ he said burying his face on my shoulder.

——————————————————————————————

Charlie won COTA 🥹.

Hope you liked it 💌 if you have ideas my inbox is open for requests!

[hotshotsxyz]

wide awake from the breeze

(buddie) (2.2k) i swore i was going to write something for @summerofbuddie so here i am with something on the last possible day lol. very in character of me. title from blue sky & the painter which i will continue to push as The eddie diaz song for season 8

The air is crisp and cold, and finally, finally, Eddie can breathe.

The San Gabriels are beautiful this time of year, but it’s hard to appreciate the changing leaves when he’s watching Buck. Their color could never compete with his light.

Buck’s fingers tap against the steering wheel as he hums along to a song Eddie’s certain has repeated at least three times in the past two hours. He’s beautiful like this. He’s always beautiful, actually, but Eddie thinks this might be his favorite version of Buck. Happiness suits him.

They’ve been tumbling towards something since Buck broke up with Tommy, since Eddie finally let loose the words that have been stuck in his throat for years. For once in his life, Eddie isn’t overly worried about time. For once in his life, he’s got plenty of it.

They reach a scenic overlook, and Buck pulls over. He takes his sunglasses off and drops them on the dashboard, then looks over at Eddie and grins.

“See,” Buck says brightly, “I told you it’d be worth the drive.”

Eddie twists in his seat so he can face Buck a little more directly. His curls are wild from the wind, and his eyes glow in the late afternoon sun. “I didn’t doubt you for a second,” Eddie murmurs.

Buck’s smile grows impossibly wider. The foliage doesn’t stand a chance. “You want to get out for a little? Stretch our legs?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees easily.

There’s a trailhead just a few hundred feet away, and Buck bounds toward it eagerly.

“Half a mile out and back?” he calls over his shoulder after studying the map for a second, as if there’s anywhere Eddie wouldn’t follow him.

“Let’s do it,” Eddie replies as he sidles up next to Buck.

Buck smiles at him again, and it’s a little like watching the first light of dawn stretch across the horizon.

They mostly walk in silence, but every few minutes Buck pauses to point out a particular tree or bird. It’s kind of incredible, the way he latches onto information and then gifts it to Eddie in a single excited breath. Eddie’s got his own personal guidebook to the world, and he makes everything feel new and special.

The trail ends at the bank of a small, placid lake surrounded by rocky outcroppings. Buck sits on one and pulls Eddie down next to him.

The sky above them is cloudless and clear, a brilliant blue that’s reflected in the water. A few leaves drift slowly across the surface, leaving behind tiny wake trails. It’s peaceful in a way Eddie’s rarely gotten to experience in his life. He isn’t sure he’d even be capable of appreciating that if it weren’t for Buck.

“I think I want to do this forever,” Eddie says as they stare out across the lake.

Buck knocks his knee against Eddie’s. “What?” he asks, “Watch the leaves turn?”

Eddie looks at him and finds a soft smile that tells him Buck knows exactly what he means. “Yeah,” he says, knocking his knee back, “something like that.”

For a long moment, Buck holds his gaze. “Yeah,” he says finally, “me too.”

Eddie leans to the side, allowing his weight to settle against Buck’s shoulder. He tries not to worry anymore about whether or not he deserves to have someone like Buck in his life. He has him. Buck picks him, over and over again, and even though Eddie’s not sure he’ll ever quite manage to wrap his head around it, he’s long since decided the only way he needs to feel about that is grateful. And god is he grateful.

Buck closes his eyes and tips his face toward the sun. His cheeks are tinged with pink, and it’s hard to tell if it’s the cold, the beginnings of a sunburn, or something else entirely that’s caused it. Eddie finds that he wants to know, wants to press his fingers to Buck’s skin and see if the redness fades or grows.  

It’s an impulse he could give in to; Buck would let him. There’s something about this moment he wants to freeze though, and if he moves it’ll change. Instead, he watches. He commits every detail to memory. When he’s old and gray and everything else is fading, this will be what he remembers.

A gust of wind blows down through the valley, and Buck shivers with it, nose scrunching. He opens his eyes and looks at Eddie. “I’m cold,” he admits with a sheepish smile.

“You’re always cold,” Eddie says, voice dripping with fondness.

Buck tilts his head in acknowledgement. He flexes his fingers a few times, probably stiff in the autumn air.

“C’mere,” Eddie says a little nonsensically. Buck will understand.

Buck holds his hands out and Eddie takes them. He vigorously rubs at them until they’re satisfyingly friction warm. He keeps them when he’s done, holding them together between his palms to protect them from the wind. Buck ducks his head and grins.

“You’re like a space heater,” he says, shuffling impossibly closer.

“And you’re like an icepack,” Eddie replies.

Buck blows out a soft, amused breath. “Makes me handy to keep around in the summer,” he quips.

“I always want you around.”

Another version of Eddie might’ve hesitated, might’ve buried that instinctive reply as far down as possible, shoved it next to all the things he refused to examine. Too bad for that Eddie; he wouldn’t get to see the pink on Buck’s cheeks darken and spread.

“I always want you around, too,” Buck says, quiet, like he might scare away the moment if he speaks too loudly.

Eddie’s been waiting. For what, he’s not entirely sure. For him and Buck to be alone, though that’s hardly a rare occurrence. For all the doubtful voices in his head to go silent, but Buck’s been quieting those for years. For him to feel settled in his skin. For the world to stop turning around them long enough to do it right. All at once, Eddie feels like there’s nothing else to wait for.

“I love you,” he says, and the words taste good. They’re the icy fresh snow melt that streams down mountains in the spring, the bright tang of citrus in the summer, the spicy warmth of mulled cider in the winter, and soon, he thinks, he’ll know for certain that they taste like Buck in the fall.

A small noise spills from Buck’s mouth and he sways forward, less like he’s leaning in and more like he can’t help but be caught in Eddie’s gravity.

“Eddie,” he whispers. His eyes shine.

“Buck,” he replies.

For most of Eddie’s life, he’s been afraid. He’s pushed past it, locked it down, pretended that the twist of anxiety in his gut was never more than passing butterflies. Here, though, now, he doesn’t even feel brave. He’s too sure, Buck makes him feel too safe; there’s no fear for him to fight against.

Buck blinks a few times and swallows visibly. Eddie rubs his thumbs in soothing circles against Buck’s wrists.

“You…” Buck starts, rough and awed.

“Take your time,” Eddie says, unable to hide his amusement.

Buck huffs and kicks at Eddie’s ankle. “Forgive me for taking a second to process literally the best thing I’ve ever heard,” he retorts without any bite.

“Oh no, I mean it,” Eddie says with a wide grin. “I’ll sit here all day. I’m not cold.”

A startled laugh jumps from Buck’s throat. “Be quiet, let me finish processing,” he says.

“Process away,” Eddie murmurs.

A few seconds pass and he watches the gears turn in Buck’s mind. Eddie knows the way they like to twist and catch, but he’s not worried. They’ll have a lifetime to discard all the worst-case scenarios.

 “Okay,” Buck says finally. “I’ve processed.” He pulls his hands from Eddie’s grip and raises them to his jaw. He leans in and Eddie meets him halfway.

Eddie was right, but also wrong. Buck tastes like love, yes, but he also tastes like home and joy and warmth and a little like the muscadines they’d stopped to buy from a roadside stand earlier in the day. Buck smiles against his lips and it feels like the rest of his life.

“For the record,” Buck says, pulling back just far enough to look Eddie in the eye, “I love you too.”

Eddie can’t help the bright peal of laughter that bursts from his chest. He feels free and alive and happy and everything else he was once afraid he’d never be able to. Buck skims a thumb along his cheek bone and grins.

“If you’re done, I really want to kiss you again,” Buck says once Eddie’s laughter has faded to a soft chuckle.

Eddie grips Buck’s waist and hums. “I don’t know, I think I need to process,” he teases.

“Oh, that’s fine, I’ll just sit here and freeze while you—” Buck makes a surprised noise as Eddie surges forward and cuts him off with his lips.

They break apart a second time and Eddie rests his forehead against Buck’s. “I’ve processed,” he says, quiet and smiling.

“Yeah?” Buck asks, a little breathless.

Eddie hums an affirmative. “Best thing I’ve ever heard, had to let it sink in.”

Buck presses a soft, chaste kiss to the corner of Eddie’s mouth. “It takes a second,” he agrees.

Another gust of wind blows past them. A few leaves begin their gentle descent to the ground and Buck shivers.

“Come on,” Eddie says, laughing lightly as he pulls back and stands. He holds his hands out and Buck takes them. “You’ve got a hoodie in the Jeep.”

Buck’s head tilts adorably. “I didn’t…” he says, trailing off as the confusion in his expression makes way for that quiet, disbelieving smile that seems to be reserved exclusively for Eddie.

“You’re always cold,” Eddie says with a fond eyeroll. He tugs at Buck until he stands.

“Not always,” Buck says, suddenly inches from Eddie.

Eddie swallows as a shudder of anticipation travels down his spine. “No?” he asks faintly.

Buck fixes him with a look Eddie’s seen before, though never directed at him. “Nope,” he says, eyes dark and lips curling.

The effect is lessened slightly as the breeze kicks up again and Buck cringes away from it. The tip of his nose is bright pink. Eddie wants to kiss it, so he does.

He laughs again and drops one of Buck’s hands. “Let’s go, cowboy, you can seduce me in the Jeep.”

Buck’s mouth opens and closes. “Uh, that’s—yeah, let’s do that,” he says in a rush.

They quickly make their way back up to the trailhead. Eddie can’t remember ever smiling this much, but even when his cheeks start to hurt it’s impossible to stop. He’s happy, happy in a way he didn’t even know was possible until very recently.

When they reach the overlook, Eddie pauses just long enough to lift their joined hands and press a kiss to the back of Buck’s.

Buck’s eyes widen. “When did you get so…” He gestures vaguely.

Eddie snorts. “I have game,” he says.

“No,” Buck says incredulously, “you don’t. Or—or didn’t.”

“It sounds like you think I have game,” Eddie teases.

“I think you should get in the Jeep so we can go home and test the theory,” Buck replies.

“Gonna have to let me go first,” Eddie says, nodding toward their intertwined fingers.

Buck blushes but makes no move to extricate himself from Eddie’s grip.  

“Or not,” Eddie says softly.

“I just…” Buck trails off.

Eddie squeezes his hand.

“I want to remember this,” Buck says, ducking his head. “How everything feels right now.”

“Even the cold?” Eddie asks.

Buck squeezes his hand. “M’not cold,” he says.

The wind blows, and Buck crowds in closer to Eddie, trying to hide from it.

“I think you might be a little cold,” Eddie murmurs.

“Maybe I just wanted to kiss you again,” Buck replies.

Eddie grins. “Don’t let me stop you,” he says.

Buck presses a feather-light kiss to his cheek, then his nose, then the corner of his mouth. Eddie feels his cheeks heat beneath his touch.

“Okay,” he says softly. He steps back and lets go of Eddie’s hand. He fishes his keys out of his pocket and unlocks the Jeep.

Eddie climbs into the passenger seat as Buck settles in front of the wheel, just like they’ve done a thousand times before. He reaches into the back and grabs Buck’s hoodie, the slightly oversized one that he loves to wrap himself in on days just like this one. He hands it to Buck. As he watches Buck wriggle into it, he’s hit with a wave of joy all over again.

“I love you,” he says when Buck’s head pops out from the hood, just because he can.

“You’re such a sap,” Buck says, but it sounds a whole lot like I love you too.

Buck turns the key in the ignition, and the stereo comes to life playing the same song as before.

Is that a blue sky? The singer asks.

“It’s about damn time,” Eddie can’t help but sing along.

Buck grins at him and grabs his hand.

It’s about damn time.

[moonxytcn]

Heyyy (btw before I request anything ur writing is literally pure GOLD) anyways could u write about how the reader and billie have always been friends since childhood up to her newest album hit me hard and soft. Billie is on tour and the reader always finds a way to get front row tickets to her bestfriends shows. A few days before tour started the reader posted a TikTok with billie lying across her lap on the sofa. In the comments there was lots of speculation about a flirty friendship (behind closed doors the reader and billie both knew that was true). A few days later Billie was performing in LA. An hour or so into the show billie starts singing ‘Billie Bossa Nova’ from her album happier than ever. When it gets to the lyrics “nobody saw me in the lobby…𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐰 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬” Billie gave a smirk to the crowd instantly locking eyes with the reader and winking knowing full well that due to that TikTok posted a few days before, EVERYBODY saw her in your arms.

Nobody saw me in your arms

| Billie Eilish x fem!reader

summary – Billie and you finally talk about how you feel after years of hidden feelings and fan speculation

warnings – fluffy

a/n – heyyy thank you so much for the request!! hope you like it

| English is not my first language so there may be some errors.

| Masterlist —✽— Pinned Post

   ㅤ✯ ━━━━━━ ✿ ✫ ✿ ━━━━━━ ✯

–––

Billie’s voice echoes through the packed venue, the energy in the room palpable as she performs each song with the intensity and emotion that only she can bring. You’ve always been amazed at how she can captivate an audience, how she can make every single person in the room feel like she��s singing directly to them. But tonight, as you stand front row, the bass reverberating through your chest, you know that, for at least one song, she really is singing to you.

It’s been like this for as long as you can remember. From the time you were kids, Billie had a way of drawing people in. You still remember the days when she’d sneak into your room with a mischievous grin, her hair dyed some new, vibrant color, and a guitar slung over her shoulder. Back then, it was just the two of you, making up songs and laughing until your sides hurt. You’d listen to her dreams of becoming a star, and though you always believed in her, it was hard to imagine the tiny spark of a girl next door turning into the powerhouse standing on stage tonight.

You’ve been by her side through it all. From those early, impromptu jam sessions in your living room to the first time she played in front of a real crowd, you’ve watched her grow into the artist she is today. And no matter how big she’s gotten, how many millions of fans scream her name, she’s always made sure you were right there with her.

When Billie’s latest album, 'Hit Me Hard and Soft', dropped, you were one of the first people to hear it. She’d sent you the demos before the rest of the world even knew it existed, nervously biting her lip as she waited for your reaction. Of course, you loved it. How could you not? The album was everything she was—bold, vulnerable, raw, and beautiful. It was a testament to everything she’d been through, and everything you’d gone through together.

But of all the songs she has ever made, one has caught her attention. 'Billie Bossa Nova' was different from the rest, and when you first heard it, your heart skipped a beat. The lyrics were sultry, teasing, full of secrets whispered behind closed doors. You recognized yourself in the song, in the way Billie’s voice dipped and softened, in the way she played with the words like they were meant just for you. And you knew, in that moment, that your friendship had never been just a friendship.

You never talked about it—not really. Sure, there had been moments, stolen glances, lingering touches, that said more than words ever could. But neither of you wanted to ruin what you had. The connection between you was too special, too rare to risk by putting a label on it. So you kept it quiet, hidden behind the walls of inside jokes and childhood memories.

But a few days before the tour kicked off, something changed. You’d posted a TikTok of the two of you lounging on your sofa, Billie sprawled across your lap, her head resting comfortably against your chest. It was an innocent video, just a moment of you two being you, but the comments quickly exploded with speculation. People saw what was between you, even if you hadn’t fully admitted it to yourselves. The rumors of a "flirty friendship" spread like wildfire, with fans dissecting every interaction, every glance, every smile.

Billie had laughed it off when you showed her, her eyes twinkling with that familiar, mischievous glint. "Let them talk", she’d said, and you both agreed to keep it under wraps, to keep the world guessing.

And now, here you are, in the middle of her sold-out LA show, and you can feel the anticipation building. The setlist is winding down, and you know 'Billie Bossa Nova' is coming. You’ve been to every show so far on this tour, using every connection you have to secure front-row tickets. It's become your little tradition, a way to remind her that no matter how big her world gets, you'll always be there, front and center.

The lights dim, and the crowd hushes as the familiar, sultry beat of 'Billie Bossa Nova' starts to play. Billie steps to the edge of the stage, her gaze scanning the audience, and you can feel your heart start to race. You know this moment is for you.

As she sings, her voice dripping with honeyed tones, she sways to the rhythm, her eyes locking with yours. The crowd disappears, the world fades away, and it’s just the two of you, sharing a secret that no one else can touch. Then she gets to the line that makes your breath hitch every time: "Nobody saw me in the lobby…" She pauses for a beat, and you see the corner of her mouth quirk up in a playful smirk. "…nobody saw me in your arms."

And then she winks.

It’s quick, almost imperceptible to anyone not paying attention, but you catch it. Your stomach flips, a rush of warmth spreading through you as you realize what she’s just done. With that one simple gesture, she’s acknowledged everything. The TikTok, the rumors, the truth behind closed doors. She’s letting you know that she remembers, that she sees you, and that she’s just as affected as you are.

The crowd erupts into cheers, but you barely hear them. Your eyes are glued to Billie, your heart pounding as she finishes the song, still holding your gaze. When the final note fades, she blows a kiss to the audience, and you know that it’s meant for you.

The rest of the concert passes in a blur, your mind stuck on that moment, on the way she made you feel like the only person in the world. When the show finally ends, and the lights come up, you make your way backstage, your pulse racing with anticipation.

Billie’s waiting for you, her face flushed with the afterglow of the performance. "So." She says, a teasing lilt in her voice as she leans against the wall, "how’d you like the show?"

You roll your eyes, but you can’t keep the smile off your face. "You know I loved it."

"Good." She replies, her eyes sparkling. "Because that little wink? It was just for you."

Your breath catches as she steps closer, her gaze never leaving yours. "Billie, about that TikTok—" You start, but she cuts you off with a soft laugh.

"Don’t worry about it." She says, her voice low, almost a whisper. "Let them talk, remember?"

"But…" You hesitate, unsure of how to put everything you’re feeling into words. "But what if we want more than just letting them talk?"

She’s quiet for a moment, her expression softening as she reaches out to take your hand. "Then maybe it’s time we stop hiding." She says gently. "We’ve been dancing around this for years, and I’m tired of pretending. Aren’t you?"

You nod, your heart swelling with relief and something deeper, something that’s been building between you for as long as you can remember. "Yeah." You whisper, squeezing her hand. "I’m tired of pretending too."

Billie smiles, and it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. "Good." She says, pulling you into a hug that feels like coming home. "Because I want you in my life—front row, center stage—where you belong."

As you hold each other, the noise of the world fades away, and it’s just the two of you again, just like it’s always been. But this time, there are no more secrets, no more hiding. Just the truth, out in the open, for everyone to see.

[sansaorgana]

— IN PERPETUITY (I)

PART TWO

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!Maia!Reader

SUMMARY — Two most powerful Lieutenants of Morgoth and twisted lovers in private form a pact through cursed marriage to become their master's equal successors and rule Middle-earth together. He, however, has other plans and does not intend to share. She takes the matters into her own hands.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — The idea for this fic showed up in my head while I was working on a different fic with a Maia!Reader, in which she is good and pure and all that. And that other story will be finished and posted, too, but with a delay because I focused on this one first. 🙈 The Reader in this fic is a Maia, so she changes her appearance like Sauron does but I am not describing any of her forms in any details. This fic will have a second part with Annatar!Sauron but in this part you get only Jack Lowden!Sauron because that ginger loser needs some love and attention as well. 😭🥰 The title of the fanfic and its vibe are inspired by the song Sugarbread by Soap&Skin. Special thanks to @dinsbeskar for giving me the most appreciated feedback before I posted this fic! 💕

WARNINGS — Reader is evil-evil with sadistic undertones, betrayal, murder, manipulation, gaslighting, blood drinking/pact/magic, mentions of Sauron being tortured by Morgoth, SMUT, sub!Sauron

WORD COUNT — 4,650

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

IN PERPETUITY (I)

It was no surprise to any of The Valar that you were one of the first to follow Morgoth. You always found it troublesome to obey the orders, to show respect or loyalty. As if you had been already created flawed, although no one dared to question Eru’s decisions.

The gods were aware, however, that Morgoth wanted you as his servant as well for he was a god like them. Therefore, they expected you to come back with your tail between your legs, begging for their forgiveness since they were much more merciful masters than he ever would be.

Nevertheless, that did not happen and you became one of the most loyal Lieutenants to the Dark Lord. You sometimes amazed your own self with the amount of cruelty you were able to inflict. Perhaps Eru himself had created you this way indeed – perhaps you were evil by his design. Dark creatures like Morgoth or you were needed to emphasise the lightness – cursed outcasts to show an example.

Morgoth did not even need to break you as much as others who had followed him. He did not feel the need to rebuild you or push you as far as most of his followers because it did not take much for you to become the very worst version of yourself.

You were the lucky one.

Mairon was not.

You could hear his whimpers and screams of pain as he was tortured. And you watched and watched in awe at him transforming with Morgoth's help into the man that would from now on be known as Sauron amongst many.

But to you he would remain Mairon. And Mairon watched you in awe, too.

He observed you with admiration and curiosity. He wanted to be more like you – so terrifyingly beautiful in your art of cruelty. And he was learning the craft from you.

Until, eventually, with your master's help and by his twisted design, Mairon became a Lieutenant as loyal and fierce as you.

And each time he failed at a task given to him by Morgoth, he would come to you first, seeking comfort and hoping you would ease your master before their encounter – like a child would come to their mother, fearing their father's anger.

Everyone knew Morgoth was gracing you with a special treatment. And even though it was unlikely he was able to feel any real affection towards you, many knew that you were the only Lieutenant of his that he actually cared about because you were the only one who abandoned The Valar thoroughly and wholly.

You did not care about him, though. The Valar were right – you did not enjoy being under him; under anyone. And you truly hated the destruction that he was causing as you could not understand the desire of becoming the King of ashes.

You wanted to be the Dark Lady yourself and you often fantasised what you would do if you were him. His god-like status did not intimidate you and you could not care less whether it was a blasphemy or not to imagine yourself as a Vala. No god had ever intimated you.

You were your own god and you wanted to rule over the world. To make it perfect and harmonious.

You became closer with Mairon when you sensed his heart was corrupted with the same thoughts and feelings. And while your Maiar bodies remained focused on the battles and schemes – so unfamiliar with the carnal desires of the flesh – as you spent more and more time together and he shared with you his dream of forging the very special and powerful Rings, you could feel the strange and odd desire growing within you.

One day, you gave in to them.

You heard his screams of pain throughout the fortress like the ones back in the day when Morgoth had been shaping him to his whim and design. Now he was punishing him for one of his failures and your master’s wrath was undeniable.

Mairon was one of his best Lieutenants, therefore Morgoth expected from him the most.

And when the punishment ended, Mairon found himself knocking weakly upon the doors of your chambers. You opened them and gasped at the state of his flesh. He was too weak to heal himself fully, allowing the bruises to form and cuts to bleed.

You welcomed him and laid him down in your bed before tangling your limbs with his; his face buried in your chest as your fingers brushed his ginger hair and gently teased his pointy ears.

"My poor Mairon," you whispered and leaned in to place a kiss upon his temple.

He looked up at you with devotion.

Unlike you, he had been once Eru’s perfect creation – Mairon had been pure in his past, worshipping the Valar like he had been designed to. The Valar were no more in his heart but the devotion remained and you were the subject of it.

"Let me ease your pain," you spoke softly and caressed his cheek with your fingers, making the small cuts disappear as bruises began to fade away. He closed his eyes and sighed out of relief. "Where else can I aid you, my Mairon?" You asked as his eyelids fluttered and opened.

"Everywhere," he breathed out. "I need you everywhere, my Lady."

The odd desire you had been fighting within you for a long time now apparently was not one-sided. Perhaps a Maia fallen was a Maia burdened with such humiliating and carnal needs.

You rolled him over onto his back as you sat astride him with a sparkle of excitement in your eyes. Maybe it was not a burden... Maybe it would be a new adventure, a new path to follow.

You got rid of his robes in a haste as his hands weakly caressed your thighs wherever they could reach under your dress. And once he was naked for you – under you – you felt like an animal, driven by the urges you could not stop.

That felt ungodly.

Your fingers curled on his chest, scratching the flesh and you watched your nails leave red trails upon his pale skin. Instead of healing him, you only added more to the pain but the pathetic whimpers leaving his mouth were not of suffering but of pleasure.

"Yours..." was all he gasped as your pupils widened even further. Yours... How good it felt to have him at your mercy.

You were like Morgoth himself now with Mairon laid out for you, eager for you to shape him the way you wished him to be.

And you loved to feel like Morgoth, to share at least a tiny bit of his power. The realisation was enough to make you feel the itch deep inside the heat of your core.

"Mine..." you nodded at Mairon and grasped his length to squeeze it, watching him wince as the flesh hardened under your touch.

You kept pumping him and observing all his sighs, eye rolls and the tremble of his thighs. His eyes filled with tears as he kept bravely staring up at you despite his vision getting blurry and hazy.

Your pace quickened and you used your free hand to caress his thighs gently as if you were trying to soothe them but it only caused them to tremble more while you watched his body giving in to your touch so eagerly and easily.

All of the sudden, just to tease him, you stopped your hand's rapid movements and squeezed the swollen tip. Mairon whined and bucked his hips desperately, the tip of his cock pulsating under your thumb. When you let go of him completely, he spilled himself with a groan and blushing cheeks as his hips kept rutting into nothing.

What a pathetic and yet delicious sight it was. You felt the wetness between your legs leaking down your thighs already.

“You're so fun to play with, my Mairon," you pointed out. "I wish our master allowed me to be the one responsible for your punishments."

"I wish that, too, my Lady," he breathed out, putting his hand on his chest, surprised to feel how fast his heart pounded.

"It is not over yet," you pouted. "You spoiled my fun by giving in to your desires so quickly."

You smirked and with one swift movement you took your dress off to throw it on the floor, revealing your naked form to him. You adjusted yourself and grabbed his cock once more, so swollen and sensitive, which caused Mairon to whimper. You lowered yourself slowly on his length, hissing at the new experience of feeling full.

Your eyes rolled all the way to the back as you threw your head and scratched Mairon's chest when you felt his cock hardening once more inside of you and brushing all the right spots that made you aware of pleasures of the flesh you had never even known of before.

"Divine," he breathed out and you rolled your hips slowly with a whine.

When you adjusted to the slightly burning feeling, your eyes opened with a sparkle of mischief as you began riding him – faster and faster with each given bounce, keeping your eye contact with him although his vision was too hazy to see you clearly.

It was like a trance and you lost track of time. The Maiar needed no rest, therefore it could have been days – maybe even weeks – spent on nothing else but fucking yourself on his cock, using him for your own, newlyfound pleasure; reaching your highs countless of times and beginning all over and over again until the matters much more important than indulging yourselves interrupted your blissful state.

"One day, there will be only the two of us," Mairon whispered into your ear as he watched you getting dressed in front of the mirror. "And we will not leave our chambers for a whole century."

"Would you leave your kingdom unattended for such a long time?" You raised an eyebrow at him. "I certainly would not," you added harshly and fixed your gown's corset one last time before leaving him behind inside your chambers as you walked out with your head held high and back straightened.

With an illusion of dignity that was supposed to hide the fact you had just spent long and endless days on worshipping Mairon’s flesh with nothing but pleasure and devotion as he had been only laying there and receiving and you had been the one to do all the work like he was the master you served.

After Morgoth's defeat, Mairon and you both were the only ones who could possibly become your master's successors for you were his most powerful Lieutenants.

Instead of starting a war between yourselves, you chose to create a pact of taking over Morgoth's legacy together as equals.

The holy bond of marriage was the most suitable way to seal this union for all eternity, especially when it seemed that you two shared the same goal and the same vision of healing Middle-earth and crafting it to fit your peaceful ideal.

The oath had nothing to do with the holy Valinor's customs. You used forbidden dark magic to bind you two together in perpetuity; mixing your black bloods together and drinking the cursed mixture from the cup as you exchanged the rings forged by Mairon himself with your aid; made of dark iron and with powerful spells engraved on them.

Adar was the master of your ceremony. He had stayed by your side after Morgoth's defeat and Mairon had promoted him to the rank of Lieutenant because you two needed smart and loyal people – especially if they had a whole army of the Orcs following their every order.

You could sense your marriage pact with Marion was making Adar a little uncomfortable. He was watching you carefully throughout the ceremony and also during the feast where he was sitting nearby.

Mairon's behaviour was surprising you a little. Never before he had been so open with the amount of his devotion towards you. And now, despite the audience of the Orcs and the fallen Elves, he was all over you, kissing your neck between the sweet nothings whispered into your pointed ear as his fingers intertwined with yours under the table to squeeze your hand.

He was like a dog, you thought, but you could not blame him. He had admired you from the very beginning of his service to Morgoth and now he had you as his spouse. You allowed him to enjoy himself because it was the day of your wedding.

For you, it was more of a transaction. You cared about Mairon to some extent and your flesh enjoyed to fuck his but there was nothing in this world that you would love more than power.

"My Lady, can we talk?" Adar approached you when you were left alone for a moment.

You looked up, surprised, but the seriousness of his expression was making it obvious that the matter was rather important.

"What is it, Lieutenant?" You asked him as you followed him to the dark corner of the room where you could hide in the shadows together.

"I am a bearer of the bad news, I am afraid," Adar started and you furrowed your brows.

"Did Elven armies find our fortress?" You asked.

"No. Not the bad news of this kind," he lowered his voice even more and he glanced at Mairon from the corner of his eye.

You looked at your husband, too. He was talking to some of the fallen Elves and his excitement was revealing that he probably discussed his plans for the future.

"Do continue," you nodded at Adar, looking back at him with curiosity.

"Mairon does not plan to share anything with you," he informed you. "He re-fired Morgoth's crown to fit himself."

Your blood turned cold at the revelation. Morgoth's crown was supposed to be melted and turned into two smaller but equal crowns. That was the deal between you and Mairon – two spouses, two crowns, two Rings, one kingdom.

You glanced once more at your husband. How innocent he seemed at the moment, how devoted to you. And yet…

Your own student outsmarted you in the art of cunning treachery, so it seemed. You gritted your teeth.

"How do you know?" You asked Adar just to make sure.

"I was there," he answered with a hint of smirk, knowing very well that his delay of bringing you the news created a new problem for you.

"And you are telling me this only now? After I am bound to him forever?" Your jaw clenched out of anger as you realised.

"I have been a loyal servant to your husband and it still pains me to betray him by telling you the truth but I must think of my children first and at this very feast I overheard his plans for the Uruk. I cannot let this happen," he revealed and you sighed. You knew what plans he was talking about.

Mairon had never considered the Orcs to be smart creatures, therefore he often was speaking freely and openly about what he planned to do with them or what he was thinking of them because he thought they would not even understand.

Perhaps they would not but their Lord Father would.

"I have never been fond of your children either, Adar," you reminded him.

"Yet you make a better ally than he. I know you can give up on enslaving the Uruk if I helped you to rule over Middle-earth with their army in return. Alone. A Queen with no King," he whispered and his tempting words sent a shiver down your spine.

After a very short moment of hesitation – which surprised you to exist at all – you nodded at Adar.

“Say no more,” you whispered.

And when Mairon informed you a few weeks after your wedding that he wanted to be crowned soon and that he wished for you to be the one to put Morgoth’s crown onto his head, you agreed with a sweet smile that should have made him realise how false it was. But he was too relieved with the fact that you seemed to have no problem at all with giving him the most important title, therefore he did not notice the coldness of your gaze.

"My dear," he kneeled in front of you while you were sitting on the edge of your bed and he held your hands softly in his as he leaned in to kiss them. "It brings me so much joy to know it will be you to lay the crown onto my head. I do not wish for anyone else to bless me for I would not be here if it was not for you."

"Indeed, my sweet Mairon," was all you said with a scolding gaze but, once again, he chose not to see it. “My King,” you added with irony – one more time the tone of your voice remained ignored.

Sometimes, he would use his illusions to fool even himself. And that very thing would turn out to be his demise.

“You will be my right hand, my Queen, my goddess,” he kept assuring you and kissing the palms of your hands as you kept gritting your teeth.

His right hand, he dared to say. You were supposed to be one body, one soul. His Queen and yet she would bear no crown – not the same as his at least. His goddess but his devotion was a lie. He loved power more than he loved you.

But you loved power more than you loved him as well, so it was only fair.

And how else could you repay for his betrayal if not with a betrayal in return?

You already had a whole plan formed with Adar and all you had to do now was to patiently wait for the day of the coronation. You truly hoped that Morgoth's crown was powerful enough to kill your husband, so he could exist no more and so would the bond of blood magic between you be broken forever.

You were wearing beautiful, matching robes with your husband and your only audience were the Orcs and Adar, who was holding Morgoth’s crown as Mairon decided to give a speech to his new army.

You couldn’t help yourself as you kept glancing at the re-fired and re-shaped crown with a bitter and sour expression. 

“Always, after a defeat… the shadow takes another shape and grows again. Morgoth is gone,” your husband announced to the Orcs. “Leaving us alone and disgraced. But today, a new age begins,” he added and you exchanged a meaningful look with Adar at the sight of Mairon’s fingers fidgeting nervously. “Under me. Your new master. Sauron.”

It should have been you. Giving the speech. Being crowned. And you would be. Soon. Very soon.

However, you loved the dramatics as much as your husband. And you would gladly allow him to make a fool out of himself first.

“And with a new age, I bring a new vision. A path to unconditional conquest. For I seek a new kind of power,” Mairon raised his right hand as he spoke, posing to be some sort of a sage sharing his wisdom. “Not of the flesh, but over flesh. A power of the unseen world. One we shall use to enslave the peoples of Middle-earth to our very will.”

The Orcs seemed to be content with his words and for that one thing you admired him, actually – the way he always knew what to say to make people follow him and be enamoured with his visions.

You knew that he did not care about what the Orcs wanted and the words he was using now were nothing but a temptation for them to obey his orders. But it was them he wanted enslaved, not the others. The others were meant to be healed.

“Many Orcs will die,” Mairon added and you felt Adar moving uncomfortably. The Orcs did not seem to be as happy as before and you could not blame them. You glanced at your husband with a raised eyebrow.

Sometimes, even the ones most graced with a gift of the golden speech, would say a sentence too many.

“But out of the chaos, we will forge a new and perfect order. No longer will we be hunted as the demons who broke Middle-earth, but rather worshipped as the saviours who finally healed it,” Mairon smiled, excitedly and you rolled your eyes. “By bringing its peoples together, to rule them all as one!” He raised his hands but he was overdoing himself, it was too much and the Orcs were not as stupid as he believed them to be.

You could sense their nervousness and you could hear their whispers in the Black Speech: “Sauron lies”.

It brought you lots of satisfaction as you smirked to yourself, however you had to hide that smile quickly because your husband’s eyes desperately seeked for yours. He needed your comfort and your encouragement, so pathetically. So desperate to prove his worth as he had always been.

You nodded at him with a sympathetic smile, playing a role of a dutiful and supportive wife.

“Doubt me at your peril,” he began once more but his voice slightly weakened as he did so and then he clasped his hands while his voice suddenly turned darker. He decided to use a different tactic. “You have nowhere else to turn. The Valar will never forgive you. Elves will never accept you,” he pointed out. “Men… Men will never look upon you with anything but horror and disgust,” he added with a hint of satisfaction and contempt.

Perhaps you were not as skilled as he was with your speeches but you knew that this was not the way to lure the Orcs. It was not the way to lure anyone. Mairon was losing control – even the fact his hands were clasped was only trying to hide how shaky they had become.

“A corrupted and ignoble race, worthy only to be haunted and slaughtered,” he continued as the Orcs began to growl. In that moment, you were glad you had your pact with Adar, because otherwise you would not feel safe amongst them.

Suddenly, one of the Orcs standing closest to Mairon attacked him with his blade, making an assassination attempt. Your husband swiftly defended himself and slit his throat, for which you were glad.

You would kill that Orc yourself if he maimed Mairon before you could lay your hands on him. He was yours to slaughter.

As the creature dropped down to his knees and continued choking on his own blood, you watched Mairon pull the Orc even closer and watch his suffering with the same fascinated expression as you had used to watch him when he had been reshaped by Morgoth.

And then, he finished the assassin off with his own blade being put into the Orc’s skull. Over and over again as Adar flinched at the sight of his son being treated this way and the Orcs kept growling in anger.

And you, in that moment – for a short while – actually considered following your husband like you had once followed Morgoth. To forgive him his betrayal and to play along the role of a dutiful wife.

His cruelty spurred you on as you watched and watched, refusing to look away until the Orc’s body hit the floor and Mairon threw away the blade to fix his ginger hair that had gotten messy from the fight.

You could sense his frustration. His blood was now flowing in your veins just like yours was flowing in his.

“I am your only future and my path is your only path!” He yelled at the Orcs, fury and rage filling him whole and causing the veins of his face to fill up and swell with his thick and black blood.

You cleared your throat, awkwardly. The admiration you had felt not even a minute earlier was all gone now and once again you felt ashamed of your husband.

Morgoth had never yelled desperately like that to get respect. He had never threatened – not so openly. His very presence had been enough to follow him out of fear.

“Who among you dare say otherwise?” Mairon asked, more calmly now.

Soon, he would find out who exactly dared.

But so far, he still trusted you. He turned his head around and nodded at you, his eyes filled with faith.

You nodded back and took Morgoth’s crown from Adar’s hands. It was heavy and powerful as its dark magic vibrated from it all throughout your body when you carried it towards the crowd.

The Orcs were snarling at you when you raised your hands with the crown, not pleased at all that you were about to lay it upon your husband’s head.

“All Hail, Lord Sauron!” Adar exclaimed in the Black Speech. “The New Dark Lord.”

The Orcs hesitated but they followed what their Lord Father said.

“All hail!” They chanted and you walked away to your husband, who had just kneeled for you.

Like in the old days, before all the battles Morgoth had been sending him to. Mairon would kneel and you would bless him with your sword.

You raised your hands once more as a thrill of excitement went through your body. Mairon looked up at you through the crown placed above his head and you could spot the hint of doubt. Your bond worked both ways and he could sense something disturbing about you but you soothed him with a soft and fake smile.

Unsurely, he lowered his head once more and looked down, waiting for you to grace his head with the burden of the crown.

And the crown was a burden indeed. So full of dark and powerful magic that you knew already it was most certainly enough to kill a spirit like your husband.

You turned it around in a swift movement and lowered it with all your strength to stab him in the back of his neck as the crown’s poison infected his veins and made him move back out of the sudden pain.

You took the crown away from him and took a few steps back to stand next to Adar as the Orcs began screaming and approaching you all. Mairon’s eyes were full of surprise and disappointment and he kept them only on you as you graced him with the same soft smile you had been giving him for weeks now; for him to finally realise how false it was all this time.

“You could have kept your promise, my pet,” you told him in the Quenya language.

Your words angered him and he tried to stand up with his weakened limbs to fight you but in that very moment a group of Orcs attacked him all at once, stabbing his flesh continuously as you watched. He was making an attempt to fight them back and for the state he was in, he was truly doing well, but they were too many and he was alone.

And even if some part of you would truly mourn for your husband, the dark item in your hand with his blood dripping down on the floor from its iron spikes was enough to bring your mind back on the right path.

And as the Orcs kept stabbing his body, which was laying now in the puddle of dark and sticky blood, you raised the crown once more and put it on your own head, feeling Mairon’s blood dripping from it onto your face.

You licked your lips to get the taste. For the one last time you tasted him as you smirked.

You turned your head around to nod at Adar and he nodded back at you.

All hail the New Dark Lady.

MASTERLIST

[pedroscurls]

you broke me first (one-shot)

summary: logan comes running to you after yet another disappointment with jean, but he's hurt you for the last time and you can't do this dance with him any longer. pairing: xmen series!logan x fem!reader content warnings: angst, unspoken feelings (logan has his reasons), logan pining for jean, broken friendship, no use of y/n. word count: 1.2k a/n: ok, so forgive me in advanced lol, this is my first time writing xmen series!logan (and idk if i'm the only one, but i do not like the jean x logan ship - i didn't feel any chemistry between them in the movies). anyway, enjoy this! this song came to mind and immediately i thought of this version of logan and it seemed fitting. song: you broke me first by tate mcrae

“She doesn’t love you, Logan,” you tell him once again after he comes straight to your room after Jean had told him that she would never leave Scott for him. You could never understand the feelings he had for Jean, his relationship with her purely physical. 

And each time he tried to convince Jean that being with him would make her happier than she was with Scott, he was always left disappointed. 

And each time, he always came running to you. The one person who had always been there for him since he had come to the mansion all those years ago. 

“You don’t know that,” Logan says, brows furrowed and his usual scowl written on his features. 

“Why do you keep going back to her?” you ask quietly, looking down at your hands. “She hurts you every time, Logan.”

“She just doesn’t know what she wants.”

“Logan,” you sigh. “We both know that’s not true.”

“If she knew what she wanted, why do we keep sleeping with each other, then? Hm?” 

You feel your heart break at his words. The more time you spent with Logan, the more you realized just how deeply you felt for him. He had become your best friend, and had made you feel welcome in a house full of mutants. Charles had hired you as a teacher despite not having any powers and while you loved your job, you always felt like you didn’t belong and you yearned to be one of them, to be part of a group like this. You couldn’t even be angry though, this was how every mutant had felt in this world. An outsider. 

But Logan… Logan had always made you feel like you belonged. He would talk to you about his problems and you would talk to him about yours. He’d be there to hold you whenever you had a bad day, to brush your hair away from your face when you were on the brink of tears. He’d always come to you whenever he couldn’t sleep, when his nightmares would take hold of him because he had admitted one night that you make him feel safe, calm, peaceful. 

And he’d always come to you whenever Jean didn’t want him anymore. 

And you’d always be there to welcome him with open arms. 

“I don’t know, Logan,” you finally answer. “She won’t ever leave Scott… You and I both know this.”

“She just needs to realize–”

“Stop,” you interrupt him. “Please, Logan.”

Logan looks down at you. “What?”

“I’ve always been right here,” you say quietly, teary eyes staring up at him. 

“I know,” he sighs. “And I’m lucky–”

“We both know that’s not what I mean,” you interrupt. “You can’t be that dense, Logan.”

He tightens his jaw and you look down at his hands to see them curled into fists. All it takes is one clench and his claws would come out. “We can’t. That can’t ever happen between us.” 

“Why?” you ask. “What’s so wrong with me that you can’t see that I would choose you?”

“Nothing’s wrong with you,” he sighs. “We just–” Logan shakes his head. “No, bub.”

“What’s so special about Jean, hm?” you ask, voice raising as tears now slowly trickle down your cheeks. “What does she have that I don’t? Is it her powers? Is it because she’s a mutant?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I don’t care if you’re not a mutant.”

“Then what?!” Your lower lip quivers and you take a step back when you yell at him. You can feel your entire body shaking, emotions and feelings that you had kept bottled in now coming to the surface. “Then what, Logan?” you repeat. 

“I can’t love you.”

“You can’t, or you don’t?” 

“Bub,” Logan sighs, hand slowly reaching out for you but you shake your head and step away from him. 

“Whenever you needed someone, I have always been there. When you needed to leave for whatever reason, I was always here waiting for you to come back. It’s always been me, Logan. Me.” 

“I know…” Logan’s eyes soften at the sight of you and he wants so badly to just pull you into his arms. He would never admit to you the feelings he has for you, would never tell you how much he wishes that things were different. Part of him thinks he loves Jean, knows that she can handle her own if anything were to happen, but you… If you were to ever be in danger because of him, he would never forgive himself. So, he keeps you at a friendly distance, never displaying to the rest of the team just how much you mean to him. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” you whisper, voice shaky. “I can’t be the person you keep coming to whenever Jean doesn’t want anything to do with you. You deserve someone who’s going to choose you, Logan,” you stare up at him, eyes glistening with tears. “You deserve someone who’s not going to hurt you.”

Logan’s jaw tightens. “What do you mean you can’t do this anymore?”

“I fucking love you, Logan!” you bite your lower lip, your own hands clenching into fists in hopes that the action would ground you, would alleviate some of the frustration that you’re feeling. “I fucking love you and I can no longer just sit around and act like I don’t.” 

“Sweetheart,” his voice cracks and suddenly, he realizes that losing you hurts far more than the disappointment he continues to feel with Jean. “Don’t–”

“You break my heart every fucking time you come to me about Jean,” you admit. “And I can’t do it anymore. I can’t do this anymore,” you repeat. 

“Baby,” Logan whispers. 

“I’m going to tell Charles that I’ve got a family emergency and that I will need to leave immediately,” you tell Logan, moving around him to gather your duffle bag and setting it on your bed. “I’m sure he’ll know the real reason why I’m leaving, but–”

Logan reaches out for you, his hand a gentle touch against your wrist. “Stop, please…”

You pull your hand away from his grasp and look up at him, “Be honest with me and tell me that you don’t see anything here… That you don’t feel something for me.”

Logan stares into your eyes and he tightens his jaw, hand reaching up to gently brush a tear away from your cheek. “I can’t,” he whispers. “I need you to understand that I can’t, baby.” 

You nod and step away from him. “I won’t ever be enough, will I?” 

“That’s not true–”

“Just get out, Logan. Please.” 

“I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you. You’re breaking me–”

“You broke me first, Logan,” you interject and turn back around to toss your clothes carelessly into your bag, tears strolling down your cheeks. You can still feel Logan’s presence, can hear him huffing lowly under his breath. 

When your clothes are in your bag, you toss it over your shoulder and turn around to see him standing near your door. You walk over to him and reach for the door handle, gripping it tightly as you look up at him once more. For one last time. 

“Don’t go, please,” he whispers. 

“I wish you nothing but the best, Logan,” you reply. “And I hope one day you realize that you deserve so much more than what Jean is giving you. You deserve to be happy, to be loved, to be chosen.”

“Baby–”

Slowly, you turn the handle and open the door, tearing your gaze away from him. “Goodbye, Logan.”