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rowretro · 3 months

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ℂ𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 ℂ𝕚𝕘𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕤

✧warnings: F-boy Sunghoon so mentions of sex ig, may be a lil suggestive, possessive hoon

❁synopsis: The campus hottie, was practically perfect, smart handsome talented and rumour has it among the girls, good in bed. The male is a fuck boy, a jerk face, never once wanted to fall in love after having his heart broken once by an unlucky bitch. Heck he believed he'd be like that forever, until he came across the new girl. Yang y/n.

✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧

✧❁PART 1/???❁✧

"Oh my god you slept with him?!" one of the girls exclaimed as the other girls had their shocked reactions too "Yeah... then he broke up with me" the girl admitted "Isn't Sunghoon a fuck boy though? girl why'd you date him he doesn't even hide the fact he doesn't love you?" another girl pointed out "It doesn't matter, at least I had a great night" the girl said shrugging as the others laughed it off.

Y/n fiddled with her phone as she waited outside the classroom, one earphone in, hidden by her hair. She's heard many crazy things about this high school, having been transferred from a school in UK where she was used to everything, to a high school in South Korea. Everything is so new there, education system, driving on the different side of the road. but she had her best friend, Danielle by her side.

"Hey it's going to be ok" the girl reassured. One thing y/n is glad about, is the fact that she's fluent in Korean so language will not be a big problem for her. She smiles at Danielle as she follows her in. The teacher asks her to introduce herself as the girl blinks, staring at the class in disbelief. Introduce? first day and she has to speak in front of all these judgemental 18 year old strangers?!

"I'm y/n..." she says, forcing a smiled, the teacher points at an empty seat which was sadly not next Danielle. Making a sad pouty face at Danielle, she sat at the seat. 17 minutes. That's how long it took "Park Sunghoon late again?!" The teacher scolded as the male scratched his head then he froze. His eyes on y/n.

The girl's jaw rested in her palm as she doodled in the margin, false lashes fluttering against her glasses, her lips stained with a rosy, nude shade. Fuck she's everything. Is this what cupid felt when he saw psyche? love at first sight like Romeo experienced with Juliet? Sunghoon was captivated.

He slammed his palm on the desk of the person beside y/n. The girl didn't even flinch and probably didn't care due to the earphone blasting Itzy in her left ear. the student sitting beside her immediately got up and went to a different seat as Sunghoon slipped into the seat beside the girl. he turned to her, tapping her shoulder. the girl paused her music turning to him.

So this is Park Sunghoon, the handsome fuckboy they say. Y/n knew he was bad news "Im Sunghoon... and you?" the male asked "Not interested" she said, turning back to do her work "Come on baby, don't be like that" he said, winking as she sighed, looking at him. She then turned back and ignored him, doodling.

"Wah you can draw- that looks so realistic gurl" he complimented as the girl groaned, slamming her head on the desk. "Park Sunghoon stop distracting the new girl and get on with your work. or you can switch spaces with Eunchae!" the teacher warned as Sunghoon groaned, picking up his pencil.

2 lessons passed by and break time rolled in, she smiled, sorta running over to Danielle with grabby hands. they jumped up and down squealing like typical girls as their fingers intertwined. "I can't believe we're finally in the same schooool!" Danielle squealed as y/n smiled. "I know right?! we can finally do typical bestie stuff get our nails done, do each other's makeup, gossip, and hang out~" y/n added with a smile.

"All of this and I don't hear boyfriend... i'm assuming it's because you have one?" Sunghoon asked with a raised eyebrow as the girl sighed "No I don't never had one and never will... I don't like the idea of putting all my trust in a guy." She said, in a slight passive aggressive manner. "Ok but I'm telling you, a pretty girl like you NEEDS to end up with a trust worthy guy like me" Sunghoon said.

Y/n gave him the 'be for real' look as she rolled her eyes, walking away with Danielle. "So stupid. He really thinks I'm going to let him get in my skirt?!" y/n scoffed, handing danielle a cherry lollipop as she sucked on her own. "Please. He can't flirt for shit, and just yesterday he had two girlfriends whom he dumped back to back." Danielle added as Y/n shook her head, disappointed. Sunghoon having over heard all this, decided it was time to stop playing girls like a gameboy, and pursue his princess.

✧❁PART 2❁✧

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dilemmaontwolegs · 9 months

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Hey! Love your fics! Have just finished The Taste of Temptation 🥵 a small idea popped in my head where Daniel is away and his Kitty is spending time with other drivers on a yacht. The aussie sees the pics, his blood starts to boil but then he sees the pics where she's putting on his DR3 or Enchante merch on

Temptation Snapshot || DR3 {1}

A/N: there will be a splattering of little snapshots of moments between Danny and his kitten from The Taste of Temptation universe.

F1 Masterlist Story: One || Two || Three || Four || Five Snapshots One || Two || Three || Four || Five

“Are you sure you know how to drive this thing?”

Lando looked offended at the question and purposefully hit the waves in the wake of Charles' boat, launching the JetSki into the air. Your arms tightened around his waist as you lifted from the seat and your heart rose in your throat at the height of the jump. It was instant karma that he winced at the deafening scream of terror you made but it wasn’t enough to drown out the men laughing at your expense on the yacht.

“Where are you going?” Lando asked with a laugh as you abandoned him and jumped into the sea.

“To change my underwear, you dingbat,” you joked as you swam towards the Monza, making Lando nearly tip over as he tried to turn around while doubled over laughing.

When you reached the Monza, Charles offered his hand to help you up since Pierre was too busy cackling to himself. “Did that use up one of your nine lives, kitten?”

Charles arched an eyebrow in disbelief as he looked at his friend who had been taking pictures all day just to annoy Daniel. “Mate, do you have a death wish?”

“He must have, especially if he posted any of those photos.” You reached into your bag and grabbed the powder-blue oversized Enchantée sweatshirt you had stolen from Daniel. Pulling it over your body was the closest you could get to one of his hugs when he was busy with work and when you took a seat there was enough room to tuck your knees up inside it too.

“They are very good pictures,” he defended himself as he took another couple of Lando pulling up alongside the boat, Charles at the helm and you watching the sun reflect on the shimmering surface. “I could be a photographer, I am an artist.”

You looked at Charles and rolled your eyes. “He took one decent photo of Kika, who is the most photogenic person on the planet, and now he thinks he’s Kym Illman.”

“I’ve taken more, but she would kill me if I showed them off,” Pierre admitted with a smirk.

“Oh my god, mate,” Charles groaned a laugh. “That is not smart. Think, if you get hacked, then what?”

You gave Charles a little clap at the point he made but Pierre just laughed it off without a care. “You worry too much.”

Red Bull Training Facility

Sweat drenched the singlet Daniel wore but he pushed himself to finish the last rep knowing a break was coming as soon as he was done. The routine physical fitness test was never fun but the fact it was taking him away from time with you left him in a sour mood. He was doing his best and results were better than ever because he knew the sooner he finished then the quicker he could head home to Monaco where you were waiting.

“Alright, good work. Take a breather, get a drink, and be back here in 10.”

Daniel was quick to grab his phone with his bottle of water and took a seat on the Swiss ball. His lips tugged up into a smile when he saw the messages from you, wishing him well and how much you missed him. He replied to them first, promising everything he would do to show you just how much he missed you too.

Seeing a tonne of notifications on Instagram, he opened the app next and his jaw clenched at what he found. All through his dashboard were images of you wearing next to nothing with the two-piece swimsuit he gave to you. He was surprised the sweat on his body didn’t turn to steam the way his blood boiled.

The whole day had been caught in a series of photos Pierre had posted. There was one of you standing at the bow of the Monza as she pulled out of the marina, you diving off the back and swimming to Lando who had followed on Max’s JetSki, you sitting behind the British driver with your arms around his waist. Every swipe to the next image left him feeling hollow and empty as he watched his kitten’s smile grow with each one.

Until it was gone.

Daniel cursed as he found a picture with terror clear on your face. Lando had launched the JetSki over a wave and you had held onto him for dear life. That was the last photo on the vessel and he sighed with relief when the next photo erased every chaotic thought he had had. You were snuggled into his sweatshirt and watching the sun like you did at home. Daniel would often find you in a similar state most mornings as you sat on the balcony overlooking the sea, a hot tea in hand and his clothes on your body.

Daddy Ric: Stealing more of my clothes, kitten?

Kitten: They look better on me.

Daddy Ric: They’d look even better on the bedroom floor.

Kitten: Then hurry up and come home.

“Break time is over, this isn’t summer camp.”

Daddy Ric: Soon, kitten. I’ll see you tonight.

Click here for another snapshot.

#the taste of temptation #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x y/n #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction

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heartbreak-sandwich · 3 months

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Summary: Getting caught speeding has its consequences. When you realize it's all fun and games for the both of you, you're willing to play along for the reward. A secret and spontaneous getaway in the woods -- it's the perfect place to work out your differences, don't you think? Words: 2.2k CW: Gator being kind of a dick, police encounter (pulled over for speeding), unprotected p/v sex, fem!reader, misogynistic overtones if you squint, minor oral fixation, technically public encounter. A/N: I'm sorry it has taken me so long to post! I really struggled through this one, but I've gotten it to a place where I'm okay with it. I hope you enjoy it, and thank you so much for reading my thing!!!

NSFW below the cut, 18+, MDNI as usual ✨

The air is thick with fog, and you let out a long sigh while you wait for the deputy to approach your driver’s side window. The red and blue lights flash in your rearview mirror, and you start to feel heavy with resentment for last night’s power outage that reset your alarm clock, causing you to wake up half an hour later than usual. You know you were speeding; you can’t deny that. You’re late for work, and this pitstop is the last thing you need right now.

You sigh with disappointment when you realize Gator Tillman is trudging through the roadside gravel to your window. Why did it have to be him?

“Mornin’, sunshine.” Gator grins smugly, a toothpick hanging half out of the side of his mouth. “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

“I’m late for work,” you grumble, avoiding making eye contact with him.

You two have a history, if you can even call it that. Half-memories flash through your mind of the one night stand you had after a heart to heart and one too many at the saloon downtown. If you’re being totally honest with yourself, Jack Daniels and summer evenings still make you think of him, but you’d never say it out loud.

“Goin’ 69 in a 60, huh?” Gator holds back a giggle as he waits for your response.

“Really, Tillman?” Your eyes narrow at his juvenile comment, and his smile falls flat. His mood shifts in an instant, and you see him push a small button on his body worn camera followed by a series of small beeps as it powers on.

“Just so you’re aware, you’re being audio and video recorded. The reason I stopped you is you were going approximately 69 miles per hour in a 60 mile per hour zone, clearly marked. License and registration,” he demands coldly, holding out his hand expectantly. You search through your glovebox for the documents and hand them over, steeping in the icy silence surrounding you, thinking that maybe if you had just laughed at his joke, he would have let you go on your way.

Gator takes your documents, shuffling them as he looks each one over before speaking to you once more. “You sit tight. I’ll be right back.” You prop your elbow up against your door and rest your head in your hand, letting your mind wander as you try your best to be patient.

After just a few minutes, you see Gator sauntering your way again through your sideview mirror. The way he walks makes your stomach flutter as more flashes of your night together run through your train of thought – his teeth sinking into your plush thighs one by one, the hungry growl rumbling from deep within his chest as he tasted you, and the pathetic whimper he couldn’t hold back as he pushed his desperate, twitching cock into you for the first time –

“Here you go, Miss.” Your daydream is cut short by his drawl as he hands your papers back to you. “I’m going to need you to step out of the vehicle now.” Your eyebrows shoot up in disbelief at his request. Why the hell is he doing this?

“Excuse me?” You ask, incredulous.

“Am I speakin’ Chinese?” Gator was serious. He wasn’t budging. You’re kicking yourself on the inside at this point, knowing he was only doing this to get back at you for bruising his ego over his stupid joke. A pang of regret hits low in your chest as you realize telling him you were late for work was a mistake.

“Gator, please –”

“Don’t make this harder on yourself, sweetheart. Step on out now.” He looks far off into the fog as he waits for you to comply, but you don’t move. Taking the toothpick out from between his teeth, he points it at you, cocking his head to the side. “You don’t want me to ask again.”

“What is it you want from me?”

“What do I want from you?” Gator chuckles, bending down to rest his forearms on your car, his head dipping into your window to meet your eyes. He hits the small button on his body cam once more, and you hear the device power down. “You know what I want,” he whispers softly, being careful not to let the rest of the world hear him. He leans in further until your faces are only inches apart. Your heartbeat hammers in your ears as you take in the scent of his musk mixed with remnants of fruity smoke, and you’re suddenly feeling lightheaded.

And just like that, you’re drowning in flashbacks again – the candy sweet taste of watermelon flavor on his tongue, his hair falling into his eyes as he fucked into you hard and slow, and the way he begged you to say his name as you came for him – and now you’re aching to play his games. You know exactly how to get him going. Softening your expression, you concede to the heat building in between your thighs, and despite the bone-cracking urge to mouth off to him, you try something new instead.

You decide to comply and let yourself out of your car, closing the door behind you, and you see a hint of shock flash over his features as he fights to keep his composure. He clears his throat.

“Place your hands on the hood of the vehicle,” Gator orders, and you follow his instruction dutifully. You palm the hood of your car, a seductive curve in your spine, and you can tell his resolve is starting to crumble with the way he’s eyeing you up and down, biting his bottom lip.

“Do you like me like this? Helpless?” Your eyes grow round and wide with innocence – the look of prey – and you notice Gator’s eyebrows raise just a fraction, but he ultimately maintains his poker face.

“Maybe,” he admits, his voice low and gravelly, dark chocolate eyes boring into yours. “Maybe I like having that kind of authority. Maybe I like knowing I could do whatever I wanted to you right now, and there isn’t anything you could do about it.” He approaches you slowly, each step making your anticipation burn brighter.

“Just maybe?”

“Okay,” he admits with a scoff. “You got me. I do like it.” He leans in closer to you so you can feel his breath on your lips. “I like you helpless because I like knowing that if you were to beg and pray, I would have the power to tell you no.” He lets the tips of his fingers brush up against your arm gently. “I like knowing that there would be nothing you could say or do to stop me from…” he trails off, a smirk playing on his lips as he licks his teeth.

“From what?”

Gator’s hands glide up to hold your wrists, removing your touch from the hood of your car. He pulls one of your hands to meet his jaw, grazing your soft skin over his stubble before pressing an almost chaste kiss to the tips of your fingers.

“From doing anything and everything I could dream of doing to a woman,” he murmurs, grinning against your skin. He grips both of your wrists firmly in front of him once more and pulls you against himself roughly as he makes his demand. “Now, ask me again, politely, what it is I want.”

“I think I already know,” you whisper against his lips playfully before he crashes them into yours, his strong arms circling your waist. He grips your asscheeks from underneath and pushes you up onto the hood of your car as he licks along your bottom lip, and you deepen the kiss. His tongue rolls over and over yours, lips locking perfectly together, and you can taste his familiar sweetness as he pushes his hips into you, grinding his already hard cock against your sweet spot over your jeans.

You moan into his mouth as his thrusts become even more needy, and your nails dig into his shoulder blades through his shirt. You’re not even thinking about the fact that anyone could drive by at any moment and see what’s happening – you’re too tangled up in each other to care. In a swift motion, Gator swipes at the bill of his hat and throws it to rest on the hood of the car beside you. His body weight presses into you before he finally breaks away, taking a deep breath and looking at you with wild eyes.

You suppress a smile as you take in the way he surveys you, soaking up his energy, loving every sick second of stroking his ego, giving him glimpses of the control he craves and getting your own physical satisfaction in return. You have him right where you want him, and he has no idea.

“Should we go somewhere?” Gator’s crooked smile makes your knees feel weak as his gaze flicks back and forth between your eyes and lips, and you can tell he’s doing his best to behave at least long enough to pose the question.

“Where?”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The ground underneath the picnic blanket is hard and uneven, but you don’t even feel it anymore. The sun speckles everything around you through the trees, and you vaguely notice the rustling of leaves and twigs as the birds change branches above you every so often. Gator had taken the two of you in his cruiser just far enough up the nearest hill to escape the fog, and the nip in the air didn’t bother you at all as soon as he was on top of you, in between your legs, tactical gear still in place while he ran his hands over your body, his hungry eyes feasting on every curve.

He started slow and gentle, purring soft requests in between light touches everywhere you wanted them. It didn’t take you long to realize he was playing you the same way you were playing him, and now you’re here, rolling your hips languidly as you ride him, using the straps and pockets on the front of his vest for more leverage.

He’s a moaning mess underneath you, his blunt nails digging into the flesh of your thighs as he grips them to stay grounded in reality. You let yourself wonder for a split second if anyone has ever pleased him like this before – if he has ever been so loud, so free, so incessantly desperate for more of someone like he is right here, right now, with you.

You pick up your pace and lean back just enough to put yourself on full display for him, his length reaching the perfect angle inside of you, eliciting a filthy whine you couldn’t stifle if you tried. Your eyes brim with tears as the pleasure builds at your core like an explosion threatening to detonate at any moment. You reach down and pry one of Gator’s hands from your thigh, bringing his fingertips up to your kiss-swollen lips.

He grins through his own bliss as he realizes what you’re about to do. Almost unable to form words, he breathes, “I swear, you’re tryin’ to kill me, woman.” With a sinful smile, you graze two of his fingers past your lips and teeth along your tongue until they reach the back of your throat. Creating the perfect amount of suction, you move his fingers in and out of your mouth in time with your hips, your pussy flexing around his cock with the idea of being just a little bit more full of him.

A strangled half sob slips past Gator’s lips through his gritted teeth as his brows knit together, and his free hand pulls you down onto him harder and faster, the lewd sounds of flesh on flesh filling the space around you.

“Gonna cum. Don’t fuckin’ stop,” he demands, a string of expletives following just as the wave of your own climax crashes over you. Sordid sounds pour from your mouth as you release his fingers from its grasp, gushing and writhing on his cock in a way you know you’ll be ashamed to relive after this.

You feel a bruising grip on your thighs as he holds you down, burying himself up to the hilt in your soaked pussy while his hips buck and spasm against his will.

“Gonna fill you up so good,” he growls just before you feel a hot rush inside of you, his thick release coating your walls in bursts as his mouth falls open and his eyes roll back, his fingertips clawing into your skin, holding on for dear life.

Coming down from your high, you use your hands on his chest to steady yourself, resting your weight on your knees as you both catch your breath. The sounds of the woods in the background become louder again as you take in your surroundings.

“Damn,” Gator breathes, letting out a sigh and a small chuckle.

“Been a while,” you muse, a smirk playing on your lips as your eyes meet his once again.

“Sure has,” he agrees. “Can’t keep me waitin’ like that again.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you promise with a cheeky wink.

tagging: @mrprettywhenhecries @b1tchywheeler @stevesxyellowxsweater @atinyliliflower @darleenjade @floredaqueen - ily guys, thank u for your encouragement and love, it means the world to meeeee!!! 💕

#gator tillman #gator tillman x reader #gator tillman smut #fargo s5 fanfic #gator tillman fanfic #gator tillman x fem!reader #gator tillman x you #I really hope this is suitable #yes he keeps his gear on because....why the hell not #fanfic writing #fargo fanfic #gator tillman fanfiction #it's a shoddy banner but you know what? it's fine

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mngo-jii · 8 months

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“ CAMPUS CRUSH ” d. page

wc: 1.8k ++ gn reader ++ they/them pronouns ++ apparently MC is canonically charming. i did what i had to do w/ this info

"[MC] is so lovely. Don't you think?" Ivy muses as she bids you goodbye.

"Huh?" Daniel eyes her with a puzzled look, before shrugging indifferently. "Well... I suppose."

She turns to him, a confused look on her face.

"Why? You don't think they're lovely?" She tilts her head.

"What?"—the sudden query causes him to tense up, and he awkwardly looks away, scratching his cheek.

"I didn't say that..."

A muggle-born—seemingly just there as if destined to help your friends with their rather messed up backgrounds in comparison to your little-known one.

In spite of this, Daniel was aware that you weren't as commonplace as you appeared to be. It's undoubtedly beyond the powers of an ordinary young wix to so easily overwhelm dark wizards that they're forced to flee.

And that's only one of the things that makes you a touch... outlandish to him, despite how much more bizarre your other friends seem to be.

...However, other than your excellent skills in wizardry, Daniel was also well aware of the effect you had on people.

It swirls from even way back during your first year—who would have thought an eleven-year old like you could charm people just like that? And by people, that also includes your superiors, apparently.

That very instance of when he had tried to explore the Forbidden Forest in search for an ingredient—only to, alas, be caught by Hagrid himself.

"Uh...then, it'd be okay if you went with us?" Daniel cringed inwardly, hoping that his little attempt would work even to some small degree.

Hagrid does stammer a bit—at least that's what Daniel accomplished.

"Hang on, that's not what I was sayin'. It's true, o'course. but I were tryin' to warn you and—"

"—And keep us safe, right?" You quickly interrupt, eyes practically shimmering as you tilted forward with an innocent grin. "That's so thoughtful, Hagrid! So- you'll come with us then?"

Your sudden intrusion to maneuver the situation brings Daniel's eyebrows to raise, though even further more after Hagrid's response:

"Oh. Well..." The half-giant hesitantly scratches through his thick mane-esque hair. "Only because I need to check on somethin' myself. Suppose a quick look couldn't hurt."

Not only just your first year, no, no—but preeminently your first day.

"I don't want detention. Just leave me out of it." Daniel crosses his arms, frowning at the three of you.

Naturally, it was logical at the time—to be wandering around the castle at the dead of night, in search of a girl you barely knew was absolutely nonsensical to him.

Getting in trouble in the first day is the least Daniel needs right now, and to think you, his housemate, insists on coming along is beyond him. Are you trying to mitigate your house points?

Just his luck, said housemate steps forward towards the blonde Gryffindor—"What about you, Kevin? Are you with us?"

"We could definitely use someone as clever as you to help find Ivy." You beam—as opposed to Daniel's lour.

"Oh! Oh… Thanks for the compliment, I-I think," Kevin scratches his chin and clumsily pushes his glasses. "I suppose I could give it a go…"

Robyn cackles, and Daniel's lips part in disbelief.

At that moment, he would've had to squint to be able to foresee the spark you'd light up in people. The spark you'd light up in him.

"You know, you've changed drastically since the first year."

Daniel's eyebrows raise at you, expression turning to one of interest. "What... What do you mean?"

He tilts head to one side. Then he grins amusedly, his head remaining in that tilt.

"I have? How?"

You put your finger to your chin. "Well... You were a bit dismissive when we first befriended you, and you refused to help us find Ivy on the first day because you were worried we'd get caught and all. You were more on the serious and awkward side, you know? And now you're more than willing to break a rule or two for the benefit of your friends… or yourself." You grinned back.

Daniel turns to one of embarrassment as you note his past behavior, though it's a warm embarrassment... He's glad that he's made that sort of progress, somewhat.

He clears his throat, turning slightly pink.

"I guess I've grown more since then, huh?" He lets out a breathy laugh, turning back to you—and you swore something twinkled in his eyes.

"I can't believe that I let something like the threat of getting caught stop me. I guess all the crazy stuff that's happened... It changed me, a bit."

No. It did. Maybe, yes.

But truthfully, beneath your palms that kissed each other, and your fingers that intertwined with one another—you're the one who changed him.

Would he have been able to foretell the way he was going to change over the years? If he hadn't been so dismissive at first, could he have altered earlier? Had more friends earlier? You saved him, somewhat. And he felt like Merlin had blessed him upon the very moment you two finally became proper friends.

How did you do it?—he'd ask you. And it feels a bit silly to ask how you became friends with him. But it was such a pondering thought that stumped him for majority of the first year. After all, he had insisted you to not sit with him on the train simply because "no one wanted to."

Yet you answer with—I just did—with a smile so kind he would have almost understood your answer.

Almost.

But it was as clear as day to him, that from the very start, you wanted to sit next to him. You weren't just "no one."

What he didn't know, was that he'd be bewitched by your charms himself. And just his luck, he didn't know how to respond to this revelation either.

He felt as though he had fell down a rabbit hole, one where it had pictures of your face plastered upon its walls. And said rabbit hole eats him, chews him up, and spits him out. Making him stumble to the ground with a loud groan.

When he opens his eyes, he sees a hand. Then he looks up and realizes its your hand, looks up to see your face—with the same smile you flashed him back when you were eleven years old, right by the cauldron shop at Diagon Alley.

Ridiculous, he told himself.

But he took your hand anyway, and flashed you a dopey grin back.

Before this all, he sort of had a grasp of it. Like, yes, you're attractive. And while you weren't necessarily popular, you were quite well-known.

Not because you were good-looking and were skilled in dueling just like Cassandra; not because you were nothing more than a troublemaker who apparently reeks like the Frey twins; certainly not because you were a "bloody [Last Name]" just like he was—but merely because you were kind. And you remained as nice as pie throughout all these years, and he prays you'll continue to do so.

But Daniel thought, was that all it took to be liked?

He was different from you in that he had rather, well, deplorable social skills. He wasn't rude, not unfriendly. He was a good boy. But he certainly wasn't sociable enough to be liked like you were.

He thought it was a bit ridiculous. At one point he was convinced you had gulped down on an everlasting beautification potion, or you had cast a specific charm on those nearby—though of course it was just by jest.

He just doesn't understand. Can't grasp the truth of how you could cause such an effect on some people—whether platonically or romantically.

It's one thing to be kind, though. Daniel knows a lot of kind people—Lottie is kind, Ivy is kind. But they don't charm people the way you do. So what exactly about you was so special?

Well, you did manage to befriend him years ago in the first year when he was just a wee bairn, who hated any form of attention shining on him. Maybe that's something. But he wasn't that effected. A lie.

Of course your loveliness didn't have an unrealistic, comical effect on people—but it was still pretty impressive, and rather amusing to watch how some people just give in to you by asking nicely.

Though you hadn't quite got to him, personally, merely because he doesn't get it entirely.

At least that's what he liked to tell himself.

Until one fateful day, you're asked which one of your friends was your best friend. Which one knew you better? Who was your favorite?

And several eyes shot up to you, full of what looks like thinly veiled hope, anticipation, trapped by a somewhat menacing aura accompanied by the painful silence—waiting for your voice to cut through it.

You nervously giggled, waving your hands in dismissal with a sheepish grin. "Personally, I'm close with everyone! I'd say Ivy and Daniel do know me better, but I don't have a favorite, necessarily..."

And everyone decides to unpluck the fish hook they just stabbed in your cheek to move on to the next.

Daniel watches as you sigh in relief, and you meet his staring eyes—causing the boy to jolt slightly.

But you give him a grin and lean towards him, beckoning him to move closer to your shielding palm. And he does.

"Dont tell anyone this, but, you're my favorite."

And oh, oh. He finally gets it. He fully gets it. And he gets more than what was needed.

Now he gets why you're the type of person that people linger around the area for. Now he understands that one boy who so desperately tries to impress you in Quidditch—who points to you with a wink before shooting.

And now he understands the slight warmth blossoming on his cheeks whenever you were too near—understands how his heart seemed to gradually beat faster around you as the years went by.

And Daniel wonders if he's still your favorite when another guy tries to court you.

...And he cheekily smiles to himself as you awkwardly reject the bouquet of flowers.

Yes, he's still your favorite.

But he still wonders, and wonders, and wonders.

Do you feel the same way he does?

Do you mirror the same flushed and frustrated look on his face on nights he can't sleep because of you?

Do you ever stare out the classroom window thinking about him?

Ever stop to stare at the cauldron beneath your chin because the potion had changed into his favorite color for barely a split second, like he does to you??

And when Robyn gently smacks her broom against the top of his head—he decides it'll be best to find out once Quidditch class is over.

So he turns away, begrudgingly following Robyn up in the air as he tries his best to let the wind mute down Robyn's queries.

—unaware of the lingering gaze you cast him when he does.

#(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ— written by lnr #hpma x reader #hogwarts magic awakened x reader #daniel page x reader

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queenshelby · 8 months

Text

Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)

PART 29: THE PERFORMANCE

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Lots of Angst, Age Gap, Teacher x Student, Pregnancy Loss, Infertility

Chapter Note:

This chapter explores the next six weeks from Cillian’s Point of View.

Cillian’s POV

A few days following your latest encounter at Cillian’s apartment, Dermont and Cillian sat at the pub, drinking pints of Guinness. The dimly lit room echoed with the sound of lively conversation and clinking glasses. Outside, rain drizzled down on the streets of Dublin, adding to the gloomy atmosphere that matched the melancholic state of their minds.

Cillian took a long sip from his pint, contemplating the weight of recent events, including the break up with you and the fact that, again, Nina was struggling with his separation from Danielle.

While Nina’s mental health was something Cillian and Danielle had addressed in recent days, following her having run off from his apartment, the breakup with you still had left him shattered. It was something he could not come to terms with and struggled to accept.

"You know, Dermont," Cillian began, his voice tinged with melancholy. "I can't stop thinking about her. It's driving me mad."

Dermont took a swig of his Guinness, his eyes narrowing as he studied his troubled friend. "You are still caught up on her? Jesus, man," he spoke.

"I can't help it," Cillian confessed. "She's all I think about,” he admitted in the midst of being somewhat tipsy and Dermont leaned back and crossed his arms.

"I have to admit, Cillian, I never understood why you let her go in the first place,” his friend pointed out, causing Cillian to sigh.

"It's the age difference, Dermont," Cillian lamented. "She is half my age, for God's sake. It felt wrong,” he explained and Dermont tilted his head, a sceptical expression on his face. "Age is just a number, my friend. If there's love, it transcends all that rubbish.”

Cillian snorted and took a sip of his Guinness. "You make it sound so simple, man."

"Because it is," Dermont affirmed. "Besides, you're not getting any younger either, mate."

Cillian glared at his friend playfully. "Thanks for the reminder, Dermont,” he said before asking his friend what to do.

“You should try and resolve this. If you want her back, then tell her,” Dermont pointed out and Cillian's face contorted with uncertainty. "I don't know, Dermont. I don't even know if she'd want me back after the way I ended things."

Dermont scoffed, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, the classic self-deprecating Cillian Murphy. Trust me, mate, shoot your shot. You never know until you try."

Cillian chuckled, his eyes lighting up with a newfound determination before remembering something else that, just days ago, you had told him about when you were made to resign.

Cillian, of course, then told Dermont all about it, including the fact that there had been an email that was sent to the dance academy, signed off by a “concerned parent”.

“I thought me and Connie were the only ones who knew at the time?” Dermont acknowledged, resulting in Cillian to nod.

“From the parents, yes…” he determined as the discovery of someone sabotaging your career had ignited a fiery determination within him. He couldn't let this stand and wanted to know who did this to you.

Dermont, ever the curious friend, frowned as he listened to Cillian tell him about the email that had, apparently, given rise to your forced resignation. "Who could have done it then, you think?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

Cillian sighed heavily, the lines of worry etched deep on his forehead. "I don't know, Dermont. I can't think of anyone who would stoop so low," he replied, frustration evident in his voice.

Dermont's eyes narrowed as a thought struck him like a lightning bolt. "What about Kit? She knew…" he suggested, causing Cillian's eyebrows to shoot up in surprise.

"Kit? Why would you suspect her?" Cillian questioned, his tone laced with disbelief. Kit had always seemed loyal.

Dermont leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Think about it, Cillian. Kit knows how much you still love Y/N, and you fucked her. Perhaps she grew jealous and decided to take matters into her own hands” he suggested.

Cillian's mind spun with the possibility, a flicker of doubt igniting within him. Could Kit have orchestrated this? He mulled over Dermont's theory, his eyes clouded with suspicion.

“It was just sex, man. Kit said so herself,” Cillian pointed out though while running a hand through his unruly hair. “I just can't imagine her doing something like that,” he then told his friend.

Dermont leaned back, resting his pint on the table. "Are you sure about that, mate? Kit's been acting a bit off lately. She knew how much you love Y/N, and let's face it, jealousy can turn even the sweetest of assistants into vengeful email-senders,” Dermont said jokingly, causing Cillian to chuckle momentarily.

"Don't ruin Kit for me, Dermont. She's been nothing but supportive and she is a pretty good assistant,” he pointed out as he could not believe that it may be her who sent the email.

Dermont leaned in closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But what if she's secretly in love with you and can't bear the thought of you being with someone else? People do crazy things for love, mate. Crazy things,” he pointed out.

Cillian stared at Dermont, trying to gauge whether he was being serious or just pulling his leg. "You can't be serious. Kit has been with me for years,” he said.

Dermont shrugged, a devilish grin on his face. "Hey, I'm just saying. It's worth considering. Love can make a person do all sorts of mad stuff,” he argued.

Cillian rolled his eyes, taking a long sip of his Guinness. "You watch too many telenovelas, Dermont. Kit is not the culpri-" he began to say and, just as Cillian was about to finish his sentence, his phone buzzed, signalling a new message. He pulled it out of his pocket and unlocked the screen, eyes widening as he read the name on the display - Kit.

"Speak of the devil," Dermont chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "Go on, mate. See what she wants,” Dermont told him and Cillian hesitated for a moment before opening the message. His eyes darted across the screen, his face contorting into a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

"She... she just sent me a meme of a cat wearing a hat, some Oppenheimer thing…" Cillian laughed, and Dermont burst into laughter, doubling over with mirth. "Oh, mate, you were so close to discovering her sinister plot, and she distracts you with pictures of dapper felines. She's good,” he joked.

Cillian's forehead creased with frustration as he slid his phone back into his pocket. "I can't believe I'm even entertaining this nonsense, Dermont. Kit would never betray me like that,” he was certain, but Dermont was not.

Dermont wiped away a tear of laughter, struggling to compose himself. "Okay, okay, I'll drop it. But remember, cats in hats can be dangerously distracting, especially those which build atomic weapons. Stay vigilant, my friend,” he carried on, and Cillian shook his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You're an ejeet. I don't know how you come up with this stuff,” Cillian acknowledged, causing Dermont to wink playfully.

"It's a gift, mate. A gift that keeps on giving,” Dermont told his friend before they clinked their glasses together, the sound echoing through the pub as they shared a moment of lighthearted camaraderie amidst the chaos of love and betrayal.

Little did they know, the truth was lurking in the shadows, waiting to unveil its twisted face. And when it did, everything would change.

But for now, they would enjoy their pints, laughter, and the blissful ignorance that only a good pub session could provide. The mysteries could wait; they had Guinness to savour.

***

About two weeks later, Cillian and Dermont were still hunting for cues, and it was Nina who told them both to give up and let it be. According to Nina, you took up a new job with a theatre production company that specialises in musicals and dance performances, and it was one of those performances that she wanted to see.

Nina had followed you on Instagram and Facebook for weeks, and you stayed in touch. You offered her some tickets to attend the show with either her mum or dad, now that you knew that Danielle no longer held a grudge against you.

In fact, she even tried to get you reemployed which, in the end, was an offer you declined even despite the fact that the owner of the dance academy apologised to you.

"Dad, you have to take me to see her perform! Can you take me? Please?" Nina thus pleaded, her blue eyes wide with anticipation after Cillian slumped onto the couch, his brow furrowing as he stared at his daughter, who was bouncing with excitement in front of him.

Cillian sighed heavily, running his fingers through his tousled hair. "Nina, we've been through this. I don't think it's a good idea," he repeated as, just two days ago, she asked him the same question.

Nina pouted, crossing her arms stubbornly. "But Dad, she's been teaching me everything she knows about dance, and I really want to see her perform.” She begged.

Cillian's gaze softened as he looked at his daughter. He hated to disappoint her, but he had his reasons for not wanting to see you perform.

"Nina, you know how things ended between us," Cillian said, his voice tinged with sadness.

“All I know is that you broke up with her,” Nina pointed out in response, to which Cillian sighed, finding it difficult to explain to his young daughter the complexities of your relationship.

"It's a complicated situation, sweetheart. We had our differences, and age played a big part in it,” he pointed out and, immediately, Nina, being the insightful teenager she was, raised an eyebrow sceptically.

"Wait, Dad, are you saying you dumped her because she's young and cool?" she asked and Cillian shifted uncomfortably in his seat, feeling like he was on trial.

"Well, it wasn't as simple as that, but yes, age was a factor. I did not know how young she was and when I found out I realised that it couldn’t work. I didn't want her to miss out on experiences and opportunities that someone her own age could provide. Despite, my career, it…" Cillian began to say, but Nina interrupted him.

Nina crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing with determination. "Dad, you're being ridiculous. Your career? Really? You hooked up with your assistant, it’s all over the papers, but you are worried about bad press because of Y/N?” Nina spat, causing her father to gulp.

Cillian shook his head, willing himself to stay firm in his decision. "Nina, it's not that simple and I would rather not revisit this. Okay?” Cillian then shut her off which caused Nina to sit down next to her father, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"Dad, you need to grow up. It’s okay to be in love with someone who doesn’t quite fit within your ideals. Love is an iffy little thing, worth making sacrifices for” Nina said like a grown-up and Cillian glanced at his daughter, love and pride shining in his eyes. Nina's words struck a chord within him, making him consider her perspective.

“I read this in a book at school, don’t judge” Nina then pointed out, but the words had already sunk in.

"Maybe you're right though," Cillian reluctantly admitted and Nina beamed, her blue eyes sparkling with triumph.

“Does this mean you take me to see her performance?” Nina wanted to know and Cillian nodded.

“Yes, but only because I know it means a lot to you and you grew up to be so wise” Cillian chuckled softly, giving Nina a playful nudge.

Nina squealed with delight, throwing her arms around Cillian in a tight hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, Dad! You won't be disappointed, I swear!" she told him while Cillian found himself chuckling again, unable to resist his daughter's infectious enthusiasm.

"All right, calm down, you. Now, tell me more about it. Is it a ballet?” Cillian asked and Nina's eyes sparkled with excitement as she launched into an animated description of the contemporary ballet assembly you were part of.

Listening to Nina, Cillian found his curiosity piqued. Maybe it was time he saw for himself what he had been missing and, as Nina continued to regale him with tales of your talent, Cillian couldn't help but wonder if he had made a mistake by letting you go.

The performance was weeks away, but Cillian promised Nina that he would take her to see you. Deep down, he hoped that by witnessing your prowess on stage, he would find closure and the strength to move on. But, unfortunately for him, he would soon learn that the opposite was the case.

In the days leading up to the performance, Cillian's mind became consumed with memories of you.

He recalled your laughter, your teasing smiles, and the passion that ignited between you both, erasing any concerns about age differences or what society might think.

As the date drew nearer, Cillian's heart felt heavy, a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. He found himself becoming increasingly nervous and couldn't help but wonder what seeing you dance on stage again would do to him.

***

A few weeks later, when the night of your performance had arrived, Cillian waited at the theatre's entrance, fidgeting with his ticket in hand.

Nina, dressed in an elegant dress, bounced beside him and Cillian's heart swelled with pride at Nina's excitement. He took a deep breath, hoping that tonight would bring him the closure he needed.

They had good seats, three rows from the front and when Cillian took his seat in the dimly lit theatre, a flutter of anticipation in his stomach.

The lights dimmed, hushing the buzzing crowd. The stage came alive, bathed in ethereal hues of purple and blue.

The first dancers appeared, their movements captivating the audience. But Cillian's gaze remained fixed on the edge of the stage, waiting for your entrance.

And then, there you were, gracefully gliding across the stage, your body a mesmerising blur of movement.

Cillian's breath caught in his throat as he watched you, his eyes hungrily drinking in every sway of your hips and arch of your back.

The music swelled, and you leapt into the air, defying gravity with an effortless elegance. The audience erupted into applause.

Cillian's heart raced, torn between the memories of what once was and the undeniable beauty he witnessed before him.

As the performance went on, Cillian found himself entranced by your talent, lost in the way your body spoke a language all its own.

He couldn't look away from you, from the raw emotion etched across your face, from the way your body moved with a combination of strength and vulnerability.

Cillian's breath hitched as you effortlessly leapt and twirled through the air, your passion radiating from every pore. It was as if time stood still, the world narrowing down to just the two of you.

Act after act, Cillian remained glued to his seat, unable to tear his eyes away from your performance. The audience erupted in applause after each routine, but for Cillian, it was an internal symphony of emotions.

As the final act approached, Cillian's heart pounded in his chest. It was a moment of truth, a moment where he had to face his feelings head-on and decide what he truly wanted.

The lights dimmed, leaving only a single spotlight illuminating the stage. You stood there, a vision in black, poised and ready to unleash the depths of your soul through movement.

Cillian held his breath as the hauntingly beautiful music began. Every step you took seemed to echo in his heart, the ache of longing mingling with the bittersweet melody.

The dance spoke volumes, conveying a story of love and loss, of two souls intertwined in an eternal dance of desire and hesitancy. Cillian couldn't help but see himself in the narrative.

The climax of the performance drew near, a moment of climax and intensity where you and your partner poured all your emotions onto the stage. The chemistry between you was palpable.

Cillian's heart raced, his fingers involuntarily clenching around the edge of his seat. His eyes locked with yours, and he knew in that moment that he couldn't deny his feelings any longer.

The dance came to a crescendo and the audience erupted in thunderous applause, but Cillian was rooted to his spot, emotions swirling within him.

Nina's eyes flickered between you and her father, sensing his conflicted emotions.

She reached out a hand, resting it gently on Cillian's arm. "Dad, are you okay?"

Cillian tore his eyes away from you, his voice thick with emotion. "I... we should go soon” he stammered and Nina gave him a sympathetic smile, squeezing his arm reassuringly.

“Do you want to go and talk to her?” Nina asked as tears glimmered in Cillian's eyes.

“No, we should go,” Cillian told his daughter just as the lights came on.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #cillian murhpy #cillian x reader #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy fanfic

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thisismeracing · 4 months

Text

How you get the girl | DR3 (patreon preview)

full piece already available on Tumblr!

▸Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x black!plus size!reader ▸Warnings: mentions of food and alcohol; Mclaren Danny and tooth-rotting fluff. ▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

“I hope you like the beach, and pizza. I wanted to go for something private and chill, Amina and Adam agreed, but still, I hope I got this right.”

She smiles, looks at the blanket on the sand, the pizza box, and the wine, then nods, “I love it. It’s exactly what I would go for had I been the one to choose the setting.”

“Really?” There’s a slight hint of disbelief mixed with amusement in his tone, and it makes Yn chuckle.

“Maaaaybe this would tie with a coffee shop date,” she confesses.

“We can do coffee shop for our second date,” Daniel is quick to shoot his shot and Yn arches her brow, she wants to smile again.

“What makes you think we’re having a second date?”

“I’m just manifesting, throwing it to the universe,” he jokes and she can’t help but laugh while they walk side by side to the blanket. “See? I made you laugh, my chances are getting higher, aren’t they?”

**********

“Hey, so- I have this race next week, would you wanna go with me? I can fly you out on Saturday, or you can go with me and see how everything works from behind the scenes,” he suggests, fingers crossed in the dark praying for her to accept, praying for her not to think he’s being too fast. Maybe he was indeed, but this was all new to him too. He was fast on the track, he was never this fast outside it, never this fast to fall, to want someone, to seek someone, to show off someone. He wanted her by his side.

“Wouldn’t it be like making things official?” Yn asks genuinely curious and Daniel can tell by the way she bites her lips and one of her eyebrows goes up the slightest.

“Yeah, am I going too fast?”

“I mean, you’re a racing driver, I would say it’s your job to go fast, isn’t it?” She jokes and he laughs throwing his head on the headrest.

“Yes, but outside the track, I only wanna go fast like this for you.”

“That was so cheesy.”

“But did you like it?” He grins, and Yn rolls her eyes playfully before her body bends over the dash to capture his lips in a kiss.

“I loved it.”

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, honeybees! I hope you guys liked this piece! <3 I wanted to add a huge shout-out to C (my coffee emoji anon on Tumblr) for proofreading this (Ily, C!)

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thosewickedlovelies · 2 years

Text

Morning Views

Jack Daniels x afab!Reader x Javier Peña

Rating: E for Explicit

Summary: Jack is an early bird and a menace to his spouses

Tags: Jack Daniels: is a menace (affectionate); Javier Peña: pushes him off the bed (affectionate); SMUT: (consensual) somnophilia, oral (f receiving)

Words: 800 EXACTLY

Note: Yeah so. I was working on a more full-length fic, and then this scene climbed into my brain and demanded I post it before I did literally anything else. Please enjoy a far future snapshot of the rancher boys universe ❤

---

Something tickles between your legs. Your top half is still in the sprawl of unconsciousness, sheets clutched to you, but your bottom half is exposed, your legs held apart. Whatever is doing so is furnace-warm where your legs touch it.

The tickle that woke you clarifies into more specific sensation- something is lapping at your sex, soft and hot and wet. It sends tendrils of pleasure racing outwards, infusing the far reaches of your body. Sleep still fogs the boundaries of your thoughts; it’s a seemingly endless stretch of a moment before the pleasure you noted from a distance fully registers, but when it does-

A gasp rips from your lungs, and all your muscles contract inward, toward where all that pleasure is gathered like a pool of oil, just waiting for a spark to ignite.

You come with a choked moan, sleep-clumsy body convulsing, heat coursing through your veins and hurtling you from sleepy to a very different state of bewilderment. Beside you, Javier bolts upright so fast you flinch even in the throes of it. The sheets twist around his bare waist. His hair sticks up on one side of his head, and his eyes are cloudy but wide, watching in shock as you both wake up to your climax.

As the bliss tapers off, you squirm away from your other partner’s mouth. “J-jack?” You sputter and pant. “What are you doing?”

Undeterred, Jack inches after you, his mustache bristling wetly against your inner thighs. “Well, I woulda thought that was obvious, darlin’. I’m wakin’ up my lazy, good-for-nothin' spouses.”

The clock on the wall ticks in alarm; it indicates the time is barely nine a.m. Javi, who never does well before his morning coffee, stares at Jack with an indent of disbelief between his brows. Your only response is to huff incredulously at the ceiling, your heart still pounding.

Jack's laugh is far too pleased with itself for the early hour. “I gotta say honey, I’m seriously considering making the sound of you comin’ my new alarm.”

Javi has finally gotten his brain online, it seems. He scoffs. “And how would you deal with the hard-on you’d get first thing every morning if you did that?”

His voice is deliciously low and gravely when he first wakes. Javi shifts to a more comfortable position, leaning over to check on you. His concerned face appears in your line of sight, one hand stroking your cheek. He raises his eyebrows in silent question.

Jack chuckles, the sound throaty and dark with delight. “Why don’t you tell me, big boy? Got any ideas for yours?” His hand snakes over the bedspread, landing on Javi's knee. Falling short of its goal- the erection bobbing against Javi's belly, flushed and very thoroughly woken by the morning's start.

Jack’s tongue teases your clit again, and you moan quietly, reaching out. Javier meets Jack’s eyes from where they glint between your legs, and then looks at your hand squeezing his arm.

“Javi,” you plea.

He smirks slightly. “I think they do.”

Scooting free of the blankets, Javi leans forward. He twines in his fingers in Jack’s hair and pulls him upright, kissing your slick from his mouth. Jack rises willingly, eagerly. It’s a mesmerizing sight- the shine of moisture transferring from Jack’s mustache to Javi’s, the glimpse of their tongues sliding in a kiss that’s just as much affection as it is challenge.

The next thing you know Jack is reeling backward, spluttering indignantly, as Javi clambers into his place. He settles between your legs, stretching his leanly muscled body atop yours for a sweeter, more gradual good morning than Jack’s. You relish the taste of all three of you in his kiss, humming in satisfaction. With a tilt of your hips, Javi’s cock nestles amongst your folds, gliding easily in the slippery mess Jack made of you.

Javi groans at the feeling. “Is this what you want, baby? Jack’s mouth didn’t wake you up all the way? Need me to finish the job?”

“Shut up and fuck me,” you manage to say, laughing.

Javi grins then, a crooked, breathtaking thing beneath his warm brown eyes and tangled bedhead.

When he presses into you, you both sigh.

Jack’s protests have gone silent. He remains kneeling at the foot of the bed, transfixed by the sight of your glistening cunt stretched around Javi's cock.

“Jack? W-what are you doing?” Your words stutter as Javi begins moving, heedless of you attempting to peer around his wide shoulders.

Jack’s gaze travels all the way up and then back down your joined bodies. He’s not smiling any more; a flush has appeared high on his cheeks. Very distinctly, you hear the sound of a zipper going down. Only one of Jack’s hands grips the bed.

“Nothin’, darlin’. Just enjoyin’ the view.”

---

Taglist: @thirstworldproblemss

#rancher boys #jack daniels x reader #javier peña x reader #agent whiskey x reader #narcos fic #kingsmen golden circle fic #jack daniels x you #javier peña x you #agent whiskey x you #narcos #kingsmen golden circle

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aalyssah · 5 months

Text

An Old Friend

Pairing: Daniel Garcia x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut. Cursing, Dirty Talk, Hair Pulling, Nipple Play, Oral, (Daniel Receiving at end), Pull Out, Spanking, and Unprotected Sex. Minors DNI 18+

Word Count: 1,627

Summary: When looking back at old photos, Daniel sees a boy next to you and gets jealous, showing you who you belong to in the attic.

A/N: My first Daniel smut! Hope You Enjoy!

You let out a nasty cough as you climbed up the ladder leading to an attic.

You could see the dust particles falling from the ceiling. Daniel was right behind you, making sure you climbed safely before standing tall next to you.

"God, I don't remember it being this dusty up here." You said, covering your nose when a sneeze came. You began walking towards some boxes, looking around to make sure there were no bugs and picked it up.

It was labeled 'Y/n's Room.' With a smile, you dragged the box to a corner, getting down, and opening the box.

Everything was still in good condition.

You started taking things out, smiling at the small memories. Daniel saw and came behind you. "What's this?" You had a huge smile as you looked up at him. "This is some of my stuff that I had over the years. My Mom always made me keep it for memories and now I'm glad she did."

You let out a chuckle when you picked up a stuffed animal. "Oh, it's Mr.Fluffy!" You hugged the small frog stuffed animal to your chest, missing the way it felt. "My Dad got this for me when I was 6."

Daniel listened as you talked about your childhood, watching how your facial expression would light up every time you picked up something different.

As you finished up your show and tell Daniel stood up and snooped through some things. As he walked by a table, he saw a big book. It was obviously a photo book by the name and with curiosity he picked it up.

He flipped through a couple of pages, noticing some familiar faces after meeting your family last year on Christmas, but what he didn't notice was a boy that stood next to you in multiple pages.

Daniel's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, wanting to know who this boy was. "Babe?" Daniel called out. You walked towards him after putting the boxes away. "What's up?" You looked down at his hands.

"Oh, you found the photo album. Hope you don't find any embarrassing photos of me." You joked, but Daniel didn't crack a smile, but instead asked, "Who's this." You looked at the photo seeing him pointing at a young boy, smiling next to you.

Even in other photos he held your hand. "Oh, that's just an old friend. I don't talk to him that much anymore though." Daniel stayed silent, still flipping the pages.

A growl left his mouth when he saw the boy kissing your cheek. You looked like you were in your teens, maybe 15.

"A friend? Why's he kissing your cheek then?" You laughed at his little outburst. "It was my first high school prom. He took me!" You protested, looking at another photo.

"Oh, and in this one we were at a water park and I dared him to-" Your words fell deaf on Daniel's ears as you told the story. He was mainly focused on the boy who had his arm wrapped around your waist, his hand close to your butt.

He still needs answers. Who was this boy and why was he all over you?

"Did you ever date him? Fuck him?" You gasped at his words. "Daniel! Why would you say that! I just told you he was like a best friend." Daniel nodded his head, taking in your words. "So you don't like him?"

You shook your head. "No! If I wanted him I would've been with him years ago." Your words were supposed to be reassuring, but it only seemed to rile him up.

"I don't know, I'm not really believing you." Daniel put the book down, circling around you. "I wanna see if you don't care about him." You shrugged your shoulders. "Okay? What do I gotta do." An evil smile came to Daniel's face at your question.

"Drop the shorts and panties and bend over that table over there." You looked up at him in disbelief. "Are you serious Daniel? That's disgusting. My parents are downstairs and you wanna fuck me?"

Daniel shrugged his shoulders, guiding you to the table. "It'll just be a minute. I gotta show you who you belong to." You let out a chuckle, dropping your panties and shorts.

"I know who I belong to, baby, but I'll let you do whatever so you know." Daniel growled under his breath at your sudden dominant words, landing a slap to your ass. "Shush, I'm in charge."

You playfully wiggled your ass side to side, teasing him. "Come on Danny, fuck me." Daniel was quiet behind you as he pulled his cock out, stroking himself to get a little hard.

He slowly rubbed his tip up and down your entrance, collecting the arousal from your cunt before entering inside you. He gave you a second to adjust to his size and before pushing his hips forward.

You moaned, quickly gripping the wooden table due to his powerful thrusts. Daniel had an ice grip on your hips, pulling you back to meet his hard thrusts. "D-Danny!" You moaned out, slamming your head on the table.

You tried to quiet your moans, knowing your Mom and Dad were only a ladder down from you both. "Shh, you don't wanna let your parents hear, do you?" He warned you.

"All they have to do is climb up the ladder and see their sweet innocent daughter getting her cunt pounding over this table." You let out a pathetically loud moan, not being able to control yourself.

Daniel was forcing your head up by grabbing a fist full of hair. He didn't want you to hide your beautiful moans away, it was all up to you to keep quiet. "S-shut up."

You stutter out, trying to sound dominant, but it only made Daniel laugh. "Me? Shut up? I should be saying that to you. Do you know how loud you are, baby?" You opened your mouth to argue back, but all that came out was babbled up words.

Daniel laughed louder, beginning to thrust harder. His hips slammed into your ass, loud clapping noises echoing around the attic.

The table was moving under your body, the legs scraping against the floor. "Feel good, hm?" Daniel whispered down in your ear.

His hand pulled your shirt up and played with your erected nipple, pinching and rolling the sensitive buds with his fingers.

You were whining and squirming beneath him, gripping the wooden table hard so hard that your fingertips turned white with a little red in them. Daniel had a huge cocky smile on his face, looking down at you.

Here you were bent over a table while getting pounded all while trying to keep quiet, but failing. “You gonna cum for me, huh?” You nodded your head, not trusting your words.

Daniel lazily played with your clit, harshly rubbing in circles, egging you to cum. “Then do it, cum for me baby.” You let out a low whine, feeling your body begin to shake.

Your legs shook with much force, slowly losing the strength to hold you up, but luckily Daniel was holding you.

He groaned at the tight squeeze of your cunt on his cock, feeling himself near the edge too. Daniel finally focused up after you came, slamming his hips into your ass.

His rule during sex is always let you cum first, then take care of himself. You’re the important person, not him.

After a few thrusts he let out a deep moan, quickly pulling his cock out, and fisting himself behind you, shooting his cum on your butt and lower back.

With the little strength left in you, you turned around and took his cock in your mouth, sucking at the leftover cum that was on his tip.

Daniel groaned, throwing his head back with a smile, but the moment was interrupted at the sound of the attic door trying to be pushed open, but wasn’t due to a heavy box sitting on top of it.

“Y/n? Daniel?” It was the voice of your Mom. You spat his cock out, clearing your throat. “Y-yeah?” You silently cursed at yourself for stuttering at such a serious moment.

“Oh, y’all still up there? Well there’s someone downstairs who wants to see you! They’re in the living room.” Your Mom said in a somewhat excited tone.

“Okay, we’ll be down in a minute.” You replied. The sound of your Mom’s footsteps filled the quiet space as she walked down the ladder and into the living room.

You let out a breath of relief, realizing you were almost caught. “Come on, let’s go.” Daniel helped you up, grabbing a random paper towel that was in his pocket from lunch to clean you.

After 5 minutes of making sure y’all looked fine and not like you just fucked upstairs in an attic, you both made your way down.

Daniel was walking in front of you to the living room, but stopped before he entered causing you to bump into him. “Ow, Danny!” You whined, rubbing your head.

You grew confused as you saw his face, twisted up in anger. “What? What’s wrong?” You peeked over his shoulder, catching the eye of someone very familiar.

“Y/n! It’s so good to see you!” The boy said as he walked towards you, pulling you in for a hug. You hugged him back, smiling slightly. “And who’s this?” He asked, referring to Daniel. “This is my boyfriend, Daniel.”

The boy had a weird facial expression, but replaced it with a fake smile. “I’m Mike, an old friend of Y/n’s.” Daniel then realized this was the same guy from the pictures. The tension in the room suddenly grew thick as they shook hands.

#daniel garcia #daniel garcia smut #daniel garcia fluff #daniel garcia imagine #daniel garcia x reader #daniel garcia fanfic #aew smut #aew fanfiction #wrestling smut

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whosdinkleyhenderson · 2 years

Text

who's rocky pt2 (Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson x FemReader)

Warnings: Heartfelt moments and sadness

Songs Begin with; Two strong hearts - John Farnham End with; Head over heels - Tears for fears

Who's Rocky - PART 1

A/n: Here's part 2. I hope you enjoy it. I'm not too sure if I'm going to continue this.

Word count: 3332

"GOD! Why are you upset with me?"

"We'll maybe you drooling over Nancy, who! If you forgot. Broke your heart into a million pieces." you hissed.

"You can't be serious."

"The hell I am serious you jackass."

"Stop calling me a jackass."

"What's wrong, jackass."

"Y/n stop it."

"Jackass!"

"Y/N!"

"JACK. ASS."

"THAT'S IT! Either you two go somewhere and have sex, coz the sexual tension is so freaking intoxicating in here. Or shut up and help us with the Vecna's curse."

You both fell silent at Dustin's shouts.

"Thank you."

"I would have never hurt you like Nancy." You whisper. Eyes trailed across the room to nowhere.

Looking down at you, Steve was surprised. Your eyes were strained to the floor. You looked hurt. Mentally scolding himself, Steve brought a hand under your chin.

"What did you say."

"Nothing."

"Y/n. Baby."

"Go suck Nancy's dick Jackass." You hiss, pulling his hand away and strutting over to Robin.

"Now here's the plan, we're..."

Dustin's words drowned out as Robin sighed. She knew the kid had a big ego, but never like this. Maybe it was his tone. Slumping your shoulders you sighed loudly. Catching the girl's attention, purposely.

Rolling her eyes at the baseball cap-wearing kid. Robin nudged you. "Does this kid ever shut up?"

"You think he's bad now? Trying babysitting him when he was six till this day I still don't know how he managed to explain the whole production of how babies were made to me... I was eleven at the time."

"HE WAS SIX!?" she shouted.

"ROBIN." Dustin hissed.

~1980~

You had been staring at the question for the past twenty minutes.

'What is the purpose of a period?'

Eyebrows scrunched together, pencil tapping against your bottom lip.

"How the hell should I know." You mumbled.

You were supposed to be babysitting your neighbour's annoying kid. What was his name, David? No, Daniel, Nah... Dustin? yeah, Dustin.

That reminded you. Where the hell was he.

The sound of what you assumed was legos, being smashed to the ground filled your ears.

"HOLY SHIT!"

Getting up from your seat you made your way down the hallway and to the right.

"Dustin. What the hell?"

Pulling open the door, you saw the baseball cap-wearing kid on the floor surrounded by, well you had no idea what it was, but it was not legos. More something illegal, all it had was wires sticking out of it.

"Is that a radio?" You asked, confused.

The kid sat in pure silence, the only noise being the ticking of the clock in the dining room. You both locked eyes.

"...No..?"

Of course, you, of all the preteen kids in the street, had to be babysitting Dustin Henderson.

"Okay...? Then what are you doing?" You pressed.

Shooting up from his spot, he kicked the thing under his bed. "Nothing."

"Sure didn't sound like-"

"I said it was nothing." He stated, his little legs taking him to you.

"Come on let me help you with your homework." With that, he took off down the hall. Homework? Six-year-old, helping you with homework?

"YOU'RE SIX YEARS OLD! HOW THE HELL WOULD YOU KNOW ABOUT HOMEWORK?" you hollered after him.

And there he was, sitting in the seat you were in writing away.

"No, no." You stalked up to him, peering down. Holy shit.

"How?"

He turned his little head to you and smiled. Before pointing to the diagram in your textbook. Eyes wide you stared at him with disbelief.

After numerous accounts of you, sending him to watch tv and his protests. Dustin had explained to you the whole aspect of the vital concept of sexual intimacy.

"And that is how babies are made."

~Present Day~

You smiled at the thought. Little shit.

And ever since that day you and Dustin, formed a sibling-like relationship. Him bugging you every five minutes. Even attempted to teach you how to play DnD, which just ended with you staring at the kid, especially when you saw him wearing - this even more ridiculous - hat.

"... Eddie the police have you as a potential suspect."

Perking up at this. Your eyes darted straight at 'Rocky' who was sitting down. An idea formulating in your head. Steve saw the clogs in your head-turning the minute your eyes grew wide and head snapped up.

He knew that look all too well.

You did this before you would either snap a snarky or sarcastic remark at someone. He remembered that week, it was the week Billy first moved to Hawkins.

~1985, Senior Year~

You had been seated in the bleachers, 'watching', Steve at practice. Trying to scratch the stain off your white converses had been way more interesting than watching a bunch of 'low self-esteem cocky, dickhea- sorry 'Hawkins' high basketball team practice for this year's tryouts.

Since you forgot to bring your walkman to school today. It was either that or do your homework, which you and your teachers knew was not going to happen. So the yellow stain on your shoe, it was.

Cheers had erupted from the team, someone must have scored. Peering up you saw Steve lying flat on the floor and this mullet-wearing asshole flaunting his shit. Though you were too caught up on how sexy Steve looked, you could just take him -.

"Hey sexy, never seen you before."

Snapping out of your horny trance, you were met with sky blue eyes. Cute, you thought. Looking him up and down, you smirked.

"Well, maybe you would, if your eyes weren't trained on every girl's ass in this school... besides I wouldn't bother with Carol. She is flat as a blackboard." you simply stated picking your nails.

Billy for once in his life looked gobsmacked. He usually was able to make girls blush, not... disinterested. That, however, didn't mean he was going to give up easily.

Chuckling, he took a hold of your hand. Caressing it, before yanking you forward. This guy needed a mint and a shower.

"My eyes are up here sweetheart, not at your fingernails."

Steve watched the interaction between you and Billy. This was not going to end well.

"Oh, I know. It's just that, I don't want to have to look at something that's cliché... or was it provocative, like you."

Billy's eyes widened.

"Hey Billy, come on man. You don't want to waste your time with her." Tommy called.

"Oh, believe me. I wouldn't mind a taste of this one." You watched as his eyes grew with lust, as he did so. Lord, here we go.

"Go on, Billy. Your boyfriend's calling." Snapping his head to you, what was once lust now was replaced with fire.

Sensing something was going to happen, Steve made stealthy movements toward you two.

"Hey, Billy? Man? What's up?"

Steve saw the clogs in your head turn.

"Nothing, man. Just this little bitch." Billy called, beginning to grow frustrated, with you.

And that's when it happened.

"Is that what you call Tommy, huh? Little bitch...? Kinky."

Your attempt to anger the guy was one big failure. You instead intrigued him.

Billy leaned in, stopping right next to your ear. His hot breath touched your cheek. This bitch was panting, heavily. He definitely needed a shower.

"You're such a little tease, L/n." He whispered, pushing off the bench and walking past all the boys.

~Present~

And there it sat. That menacing smirk, the smirk that got any guy on their knees.

"A convicted killer? And here I thought you were the leader of a Satanist group...? Kinky." You stated.

Satanist, Eddie thought.

Everyone's attention was now on you, Lil ol' you.

"Y/n!" Dustin hissed loudly. "Do we need to get you desexed!?"

Steve knew what you were doing, he knew all too well. Yet choose to not fall into your games... At least he thought he wouldn't.

"Dustin, just...just continue."Steve fumbled out clearly annoyed with you.

Peering his gaze away from you, the young boy continued.

"Anyway! In order to prevent anyone from experiencing a trance by Vecna. I'm going to ask that we pair up... wait...one...two...seven... okay maybe one will be a group of three."

"I'm going with Rocky." You stated bluntly. Staring Steve dead in the eyes. Walking over to Eddie, you reached your hand out.

He looked at it, then behind you.

"Would you just take my hand, it's not poisoned."

Hesitantly Eddie grasped your hand. Soft, he thought.

"Woah! Woah. What? No! Y/n, you're coming with me. Whether you like it or not."

"The hell I am. Fuck off. Besides, I want to make a new friend... is that so bad?" Without any protests. Or more like Steve yelling at you to get back here. You and Eddie left.

Sighing Steve kicked the closest thing near him.

"Damn, bitch."

"Well, buddy it looks like you're stuck with me."

"What?" Steve hissed. "Wait, where did Robin go?"

Looking off to the other side of the room, Dustin, laughed nervously. "Well... whilst you and Y/n were bickering she left with Max and Lucas."

This information left Steve fuming.

"JESUS...! No, not again, I'm not being the babysitter again... there is no fucking way. Fuck this where did that bitch... making me jealous."

"Oh my God. Would you stop sulking and c'mon... baby."

"Hey! I'm not a baby." Steve snapped, walking out of the boathouse.

Rolling his eyes the younger boy followed. "Yeah... 'course not."

Meanwhile, there was silence between you and Eddie.

You flickered your flashlight up the tree and sighed.

"You know I could be at home right now...in my PJs... watching; Halloween, Beverly Hills cop...Streets of Fire... Rocky...But no."

Eddie stayed silent. You two had been walking in complete silence since you stormed out of the boathouse. You seemed really upset, at Steve that was. So he decided to take matters into his own hands.

"What's your favourite song?"

"What?"

"I said, what's your favourite song?" Eddie simply stated gesturing to your walk-man.

Gently touching it, you glanced up. No one not even Steve noticed that you had your walkman on you.

"How'd you -"

"My eyes see a lot of things, Y/n."

Chuckling you shook your head. "You know saying that, makes you sound more like a serial killer."

"Oh does it now?" He cocked his head. His fuzzy hair swiped across his shoulders. Cute.

"Well is Lil miss feisty going to answer my question, or do I have to find out myself?"

Taking subtle steps, he inched closer to you.

"Okay, okay... Hang on...you're gonna laugh at me. Okay?"

Gasping Eddie placed a hand on his chest. "ME? Never."

Taking your walkman out and pulling the headphones off you pressed the play button. The once silent woods were now filled with the rock hit.

"Tears for Fears, huh?"

As quick as the music came it went.

"See I told you."

"Hey, hey. I reckon it's cool... well I mean considering they're no Kiss."

"Yeah, I guess."

You hadn't noticed Eddie close the gap between the both of you, pressing play your music began playing again.

"Don't take my heart, don't break my heart. " He began singing.

He was close, very close. Lips about to touch close. No, you couldn't do this, what about Steve. Before you could do anything, Eddie step back, embracing the song. Wiggling his eyebrows at you, he swayed to the pop music. You giggled watching the punk rock teen dance around you like a manic. At this moment it made you miss Steve. Considering this was your song.

~Snow Ball 1984~

You both had promised Dustin, that you would be his emotional support for the winter dance. He had been going on about this girl, this popular girl, he wanted to ask to go with him. You had been sitting in the back watching all the kids get out of their car all nervous and dressed up. Bored, that was when a particular blue Camaro pulled up and a little redhead came out.

"I'll be back." You called opening Steve's door.

Slamming the door shut Max stuck her finger up at - who you knew damn right was- Billy in the car. Almost missing you.

"Max! Hey Max." Spinning around ready to shout, she caught your figure.

"Y/n. Hey." She smiled.

"Billy giving you a hard time...? You say it and his ass is grass."

The redhead looked up to you, she wasn't too sure what it was, maybe because you were different. And didn't drool over her brother, instead gave him a real hard time. Or maybe it was because you weren't self-efficient as all the other teen girls. Yeah, you wore makeup but it was only mascara and red-tinted lip balm. Not like the other girls. Or maybe it was how you could protect yourself.

"Nah, he's fine."

"Okay, well you have my number. Anytime you need I'll be there."

You sent a wink her way.

"Thanks, Y/n."

"No problem, foxy. Now show 'em what ya got it."

Max rolled her eyes at the nickname, 'foxy'.

Getting back to the car, you notice the empty seat, Dustin must have left. Opening the door you missed the look Steve gave.

"Where'd you disappear to?"

"Oh ya know, fairy godmother duty calls. As it does to you." You stated, earning a scoff from the boy next to you.

"I am no 'fairy godmother'."

You turned to him with a raised brow. "Sure, sweetcheeks, whatever you say. Keep your masculinity intact."

Without another word you two were off, Steve hadn't said anything but turned up the radio. The soft music drowned out the car's engine. Eyes fixated on the glistening trees passing by. They looked so beautiful under the moonlight. Steve had looked over at you. He wasn't sure exactly when he fell, but he knew it was strong, stronger than what it had been for Nancy. He wanted to tell you but wasn't sure when. He knew he had too, it was killing him inside. Turning out off the road and through a dirt one. He had continued down it, noticing from the side of his eye, that you moved to face him.

"Where are we going? You're not going to kill me, are you...? Coz if you are, I just want to you know..."

"I'm not going to kill you L/n, so calm down, okay...? Just trust me."

Keeping a wary eye on him, you nodded your head. About five minutes later, Steve parked the car, near a cliff. The view took your breath away, literally. One because you had a fear of heights. And two, because the view was absolutely stunning. You could see every single glow of the houses in Hawkins.

"Oh wow."

Yet, Steve's eyes were trained on an even more beautiful sight, in front of him. You.

"You like it?"

Looking back at him, you were surprised by his question.

"Like it? Steve I... I love it." A smile spreads across your lips.

"Wait. let me grab something." Quickly making his way to the boot of his car, Steve pulled out his mobile stereo. Watching him you raised a brow.

"Steve, what are you -" The song silence you.

I want to be with you alone,

And talk about the weather.

Tears for Fears was one of your favourite bands. How did he know?

"Dustin...uh... he told me they're your favourite band."

But traditions I can trace against the child in your face

Won't escape my attention

Your smile only grew and he loved that.

"Well milady, may I have the pleasure of sharing a dance with you."

You keep your distance via the system of touch

And gentle persuasion

Grasping the boy's hand, you gave a giggle but was silenced when Steve pulled you in close. Looking up with were met with kind brown eyes. Brown eyes that held so much adoration toward you. Humming along you rested your head on his chest and began swaying to the gentle music.

I'm lost in admiration, could I need you this much?

Oh, you're wasting my time

You're just, just, just wasting time

"I'm lost in admiration, could I need you this much?" Steve sang along.

Chuckling at the vibration of his voice against your cheek.

"You know, you may need some singing lessons, kind sir."

Something happens and I'm head over heels

Ah, don't take my heart, don't break my heart

Don't, don't, don't throw it away

"Oh really well in that case. SOMETHING HAPPENS AND I'M HEAD OVER HEELS."

Throw it away, throw it away

You couldn't help but laugh at his horrid attempt to sing. Oblivious singing off-key on purpose, but at that moment you stared at him lovingly. Never had you ever felt this way. You knew right then and there, that Steve Harrington won over your heart. Meeting your eyes, Steve smiled. His heart fluttered at the sight of you.

I made a fire, and watching it burn

Thought of your future

Your hair, in its natural form, long and curly. Fluffy if that. Long lashes coated in the simplest bit of mascara and those rosie red-tinted lips. Those kissable lips. Leaning down, only inches from your lips, Steve paused. His minty breath fanning your hot plumped lips.

With one foot in the past, now just how long will it last?

Now, now, now, have you no ambitions?

My mother and my brothers used to breathing clean air

And dreaming I'm a doctor

You stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, gaining confidence. You pushed on your tip toes and adoringly smashed your lips into his. His soft and plump lips.

It's hard to be a man when there's a gun in your hand

Oh, I feel so

Your heart was beating rapidly, it felt like it was going to burst. But you didn't want it to stop. Not ever this moment was one that was going to be burned into your memory. Your first dance, your first kiss, your first love. The need for air pulled you both away from each other. With your eyes still closed you slowly let your lips slip.

Steve had been the first one to talk.

Something happens and I'm head over heels

I never find out until I'm head over heels

"Wow... that was... uh... that was." He was lost for words, he lifted his hand to his tingling lips. His finger lightly brushed where your lips had just been.

Something happens and I'm head over heels

Ah, don't take my heart, don't break my heart

Don't, don't, don't throw it away

"Yeah." You breathed.

"Y/n."

"Look I know, I shouldn't have done that... I'm sorry... I should have asked for your consent... oh my God, I'm a perve, oh God."

"Hey, hey. Y/n." Steve firmly held your shoulders. "You are no perve. Don't ever say that."

And this is my four leaf clover

I'm on the line, one open mind

This is my four-leaf clover

You nodded your head vigorously. Hair falling in front of your eyes. Lifting his hand, Steve brushed the strands away.

"I wanted to do that for a while now?"

In my mind's eye

"Really?"

One little boy, one little man

"Hell yeah, Y/n... I don't know how to tell you this... but you've captured my heart." And with that Steve pulled you back in.

Lips to lips.

Chest to chest.

Your arms wrapped around his neck and his hands around your waist.

Funny how time flies

~Present~

Yes funny how time flies. You smiled at the memory.

"Yo, Y/n." The sound of Eddie's fingers snapping on your face. Scared the shit out of you. Smacking the guy's hand away you glared at him.

"Thought you went all Chrissy on me for a second, there."

"Not getting rid of me that easily, Rocky," you smirked pushing past him.

With that, you two continued your journey. Almost missing the chime of a grandfather clock, echoing in the distance.

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theblackphoenixwritings · 2 months

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ɢɪᴏʀɴᴏ 𝟷𝟽 – ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛs: ᴡɪɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴡᴀʀ

ᴍᴀʀɪᴜs/ᴀᴍᴀᴅᴇᴏ & ᴍᴀʀɪᴜs/ᴅᴀɴɪᴇʟ ᴀᴜ/ᴡᴇsᴛᴇʀɴ – ᴘᴀʀᴛᴇ 𝟷𝟸

They walked alongside each other, as they usually did. The journey was not very long, Mr. Carson's property was large but not very far from Cripple Creek.They were to skirt the railroad for a little while, and cross the Serpete River, and continue south, following the route that the stagecoaches and wagon trains took. They were to pass not far from the old mine, Thorne had said several people had complained of sinister noises coming out of it.

Another thing to check on, so now, in fact, they had no time. Strangely enough, the sky was cloudy, and a cloak made the air still and heavy. The sun seemed unable to pierce through the clouds that were getting darker and darker. None of that was a good sign; a bad storm was coming. Marius considered that if it did not get worse, they would barely make it home from that visit to Mr. Carson's ranch. Marius was strangely calm, he could not tell if it was the tiredness of the nightmare that still echoed in him, or if the whole situation absolutely unreal.

That satisfaction that he thought, he would feel, in knowing Mr. Carson dead for what he had done to his father, was not present in him, somehow that man, he had escaped to taste and to pay for the life he had snatched away. He was dead, and that for Marius was too little. This incensed him more, because he had not been able to bring his father's killer to justice, and he had not even been able to avenge him. "Are you all right? You look like a nervous wreck." Thorne stared perplexed and worried at Marius, he had never seen him like this and he did not like seeing him like this, this much was clear to him immediately. " I told you about my father. You and Daniel and Teskhamen are the only ones who know the truth," said Marius

Thorne nodded, yes he knew Marius' story, and he could imagine how difficult that situation was for him.

" He is dead my friend, there is not much you can or we can do. As much as your grief pains me too, if Madame Eudoxia told the truth, by now your father's 'murder is between Mr. Carson and his God," Thorne affirmed as he looked around. That silence and ghostly calm disturbed him deeply. " There is no God who might want to have anything to do with a being like Carson, but perhaps some demon might eat his putrid soul." blurted Marius. Thorne stared at him, raising an eyebrow and scratching his red beard. " Well amen my brother. They say so don't they?" asked Thorne with a grin, which was followed by a low laugh from Marius. The two friends continued on, the stretch of railroad, turned out to be deserted. Nothing to be surprised or afraid of, in fact trains passed infrequently and at specific times. Although there had been strange movements at night, everything there seemed normal. It seemed. Marius' gaze noticed something between the tracks. Thorne stopped the horse, and reminded Marius that they did not have much time to complete the mission. Marius nodded and prodded Wise, to try to speed things up.

What had caught his attention was wedged between the rails. It was a woman's dress, it looked well made, but it was torn in several places, and seemed to have patches of congealed blood, now faded. It was caught between the bolts of the rails, but in the wake of that dress, Marius saw more. And his blood froze in his veins. Thorne sensed that something was wrong and reached out to Marius. Marius stood staring in disbelief mixed with pain at the spectacle before them, Thorne took off his hat and wiped the cold sweat on his forehead. "How is it possible that we did not realize this?" asked Thorne angrily. Their eyes wandered along the tracks, the wind had begun to blow harder, a makeshift platform had been set up on which to get people off the train. There were suitcases smashed, personal belongings scattered everywhere, even broken glasses and watches thrown into the sand. Small items, combs, ladies' hats, gloves and books, small perfume bottles and even food that was now moldy. The people on the train had never arrived at their destination, and that realization struck both of them with force and dismay. Where had they taken those people? What had become of them? It was clear that there had been a struggle and that something horrible had happened there.

"We need to look for these people," said Thorne, Marius looked puzzled. "What is closest to this spot on the railroad?" asked Marius, staring into Thorne's green eyes. "Carson's ranch." retorted Thorne, Marius nodded. "There is no epidemic is there? You think it's these creatures?" asked Thorne uncertainly. "I know it's hard for you to believe, my friend, I myself if I hadn't seen them, I'd think myself crazy," said Marius " But I know what I saw, Amadeo suffered immensely because of them, and Daniel also. Now, however, someone is bringing them together. I'm afraid to even imagine what they might want to do. But we have to defend the city and we have to figure out what they are plotting. I sent a message to Zenobia, she Avicus and Mael, they are on their way here." Thorne stared at Marius curling his mouth to one side " I know my friend, but we need all the help we can get. This thing must be stopped here at all costs." said Marius. " And that's why you called bounty hunters? Dangerous and untrustworthy?" gesticulated Thorne " I know you have your reservations, but I trust them, they are friends and I know they will help us." Thorne looked nervous, but the confidence on Marius's face seemed to calm him. " Now let's go to the ranch, stay close, and have your rifle ready, we have to be extremely careful, even the smallest and most insignificant noise can be a danger. And yes please take me seriously."

Serious Thorne nodded, and they set out again, retracing their steps toward Mr. Carson's ranch. They arrived a short time later, and it was not welcome to their eyes. Where men were usually intent on work, there was no one there. Deserted. With dismay Marius noticed that there were no animals, not even the horses Carson was so proud of. The corrals were empty. The roads deserted. The small station empty, and the only sound that resonated was the wooden wheel marks wind hanging from the large cistern. The horses proceeded down the main road, the farm workers' houses had their doors wide open and you could see inside, lamps now left without oil, and broken dishes on the ground. A dreamcatcher swung in the wind spreading delicate music around.

There were abandoned tools, children's toys left in the dust. The road was pultry, however, no trace of either human or animal. The chicken coop was open but there were no chickens, just a few feathers stuck in the white wood. The cattle pen was empty, and there were a few abandoned hay bales in the middle. Pitchforks still stuck between the hay or abandoned on the ground. There were buckets of food and feed for the sheep but no sound came from the closed barn. Marius and Thorne stared at each other, was it then true that there was an epidemic of some kind? Marius shook his head, no one runs from an epidemic, you run from something you know will hurt you, from something you know you have no escape from. Marius was not sure about the animals, but the condition of the laborers' quarters was a sure clue to him. It remained to be seen how much and whether the people who lived there were involved with the terrifying creatures. Marius and Thorne walked toward the manor house. A cold sweat soaked the foreheads of both as they stopped their mounts at the white fence. Marius looked around as if assessing what to do in case of need, and something inside him shrieked that they had to get out of there.

The clouds had grown larger and darker, had completely covered the sun, which no longer filtered through. It was dark and early afternoon, and Marius thought that nothing happens by chance. Thorne made the act of getting off his horse, but Marius stopped him. Thorne looked puzzled at Marius, then his gaze moved to the white wrought-glass door, which was creaking open, revealing a figure haughty and almost regal in its hardness. Madame Eudoxia. Marius noticed how she did not leave the house entirely, but remained hidden under the porch half inside the house. Her smile had always been eerie,yet sensual, now it had something sinister and ruthless about it. " Madame Eudoxia, we are here for Mr. Carson, to ascertain the situation and assist you if you require it," tried to mediate Marius, who had realized that Thorne was staring at Madame Eudoxia with scrupulous suspicion. When the almost mad woman's laughter rang out in the hellish silence around them, the horses became nervous and Mariue and Thorne reflexively brought their hands to their belts.

"What do you think guns can be used for? Against a poor widow?" asked Madame Eudoxia but her tone was not distressed at all. "Are you all right Madame? Come forward, there is little light but at least we can look at you and make sure you are all right," proposed Marius, watchful and cautious, something was extremely out of place. " Oh sheriff, you never cared about my health, let alone my husband's," retorted Madame Eudoxia in a mean voice. Thorne drew his gun, his instincts knowing what he had before him was not a helpless woman. Again the evil laughter reverberated but was followed by a drawl from inside the house. Slowly from the darkness inside the house shadows came forward around Madame Eudoxia. Eyes shone in that darkness. They were yellow, and they promised a slow and unpleasant death. "But now sheriff you need not worry any longer. Your enemy is dead, and I offer you the chance to join us." said, Madame Eudoxia, her beautiful face distorted into a ghoulish smile. "Where are the people who were on the train? What have you done with them? And the laborers?" asked Marius, trying to keep calm.

" If you're not with us you're against us, and all we need is a place to start to create our empire, where you inferior beings are just food, animals for slaughter, like the very animals you look after in your pens," huffed Madame Eudoxia " Unfortunately, my beloved husband didn't understand what he had a chance to become, while I did, and she chose me," she was delirious. "Now sheriff you can join me and take an active part in the birth of the nation of darkness, or you can run to your little town, and die with all its useless inhabitants, for that is what will happen to you.In three days, as soon as our power is at its maximum, we will come.What do you choose sheriff immortal life in blood or death in dust?" Marius spurred the horse, Thorne did the same, and as they both launched into a wild gallop to reach the town, Marius shouted: "Neither!!!" and he and Thorne launched into a relentless gallop and got the hell out of there. Cripple Creek was about to be swept away.

#writing challenge #western AU #western Au part 12 #VC #my writing #marius/armand #marius/daniel

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trin-gvf · 2 years

Text

S.F.K - tour bus

2.2k words minors DNI

sam x fem!reader

WARNINGS: smoking weed/cigarettes, (f) losing virginity, cheating, praise

i sighed before taking a long drag of the marlboro red stuck in between your fingers. you just got done with watching greta van fleet perform in toronto. it was safe to say it was the best night of your life. you were at the front of barricade and you couldnt help but notice how many times sam had managed to eye fuck you.

you took your pink cowboy hat off so you could release the smoke from your lungs up into the night sky. you looked around after putting your glamorous cowboy hat back on and noticed you were all by yourself. you were waiting for your uber but holy fuck it was taking too long.

as you stomped your cigarette out with your shoe, you heard a soft voice come from behind you.

"excuse me?"

you furrowed your eyebrows together as you looked behind you.

oh my god..oh my GOD

sam was standing there, in the hat YOU threw to him.

"oh my god- thats- wow! thats the hat i threw you!" he walked closer to you with a smirk on his face

"i couldn't bear to take it off, i look great in it, don't i?"

you felt a blush spread onto your face in seconds.

"i very much do think so"

"whats your name?" his voice was lower than you expected.

"y/n. i'd ask for yours but i already know..so.."

after a moment of chuckles and laughs, sam got a look on his face that you couldn't quite decipher.

"i was thinking…do you want to come back to the tour bus and smoke a joint with me?"

you couldnt belive your fucking ears. was this a dream? you sure hoped not.

"yeah! I'd love to!"

he gave you another smirk and said

"right this way"

as you were on your way back, you were sure to cancel your uber, as you didnt know how long you'd be hanging out with him.

y/n: hey love, i'm going to be late, i met a friend and we're going to eat and hang out some :)

my boy💗: okay be safe love u

you typed a quick "love you" back. you didn't know why you lied to him. maybe you were scared that he would think you'd end up sleeping with the bassist you talked about oh so much.

it's fine. right? yeah, it was fine. you doubted sam would actually want to sleep with you.

"here we are," sam said, you stepped in and noticed it was awfully quiet. you figured if josh was here, it'd be utter chaos.

"it's so quiet in here," you said, almost in disbelief.

"yeah, it's just me. josh, jake and daniel usually go to the bar after shows."

ohh that made sense.

"here, you can sit right here," sam gestured to the couch. as you did, sam went to what was supposed to be the kitchen area and started to roll a joint. it was possibly the most attractive thing you've ever watched.

"you don't have someone roll them for you?"

"what do you mean?" he said, his eyebrows knitting together as he sprinkled weed into the paper.

"well..you're a big rockstar, you have millions of dollars. i'd expect you to have someone roll them for you so you can smoke immediately after a show" you spoke, your eyes darting back and forth to his face and his hands.

"nah, i like to roll them myself. it feels…rewarding almost?"

you watched him lick the edge of the paper and slowly place it down to close it.

"anndd ta-da!" he smiled as he displayed the joint between his fingers.

you gave him a small clap and told him he did a good job.

he sat down next to you and told you to get comfortable.

"here, you can take your shoes off, they seem uncomfortable." you brought your leg up to take them off but he did the honor himself. after taking your shoes off, he grabbed a lighter out of his pocket.

"want the first hit? my treat."

"oh, sam, are you sure? you're the one who put on a show-"

"my. treat." his voice was lower and in a more serious tone.

"fine, fine!" you grabbed the joint from his hand, your fingers barely touching.

holy shit…were you seriously about to smoke a joint with samuel kiszka???

you lit the tip of the joint and inhaled the smoke. you felt the smoke burn your lungs. as you exhaled and passed it to sam, you coughed, covering your mouth with the crease of your arm.

you watched sam take a much bigger hit than you did. you were impressed when he didn't cough a lung up.

"how the fuck.."

"I've been smoking for years, love"

you nodded and felt embarrassed, you should've known that with how much you love this band.

before you knew it you got handed the joint once again. you took a bigger hit this time, luckily you didn't cough nearly as much as the first time.

"so, why'd you ask me to come back with you? don't get me wrong, i love it but I'm curious"

by this time, you and sam were both faded, letting the conversation go wherever it wanted.

"when i saw you in the crowd, i knew i had to see what's up with you."

"i could tell.." you trailed off with a giggle

"what's that mean?" he made eye contact with you while questioning you, it sent a heat wave to your pussy.

"you were basically undressing me with your eyes"

"its not my fault, your hat caught my eyes and your dress makes your tits look like i want to take a fucking bite out of them, y/n. and those go go boots, make the whole outfit go together."

for the nth time tonight, you felt your face heat up.

"you poor girl, you're blushing" his voice made you feel small next to him, it was like golden honey.

you started to think to yourself

"thank god i wore a cute set under my dress"

without noticing, your faces started to get closer. he smelled so good, he smelled like miami blue perfume mixed with the smell of the weed you had just smoked.

god he was so pretty in person, especially up this close.

you watched his eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips, back up to your eyes.

his mind was turning with how many ideas he had. so many different ways to touch you and initiate something he's wanted for hours.

"what are you thinking about?"

he didn't say a word, just brought a hand up to your face and brought your lips together. your eyes fluttered close and your heart beat started to pick up its speed.

the kiss was getting heated very, very quickly. your tongues were swirling around each other, spit dripping down onto both of your chins.

you pulled away, a string of spit connecting itself to your guys' lips.

he took no time in pulling you onto his lap.

you looked down at him through hooded eyes causing him to groan.

"you look even prettier on top of me than i thought, love"

you went down to kiss him once again. who knew if you would ever be this close to THE sam kiszka.

as you made out with sam, your boyfriend ran through your mind.

was this wrong? it was sam,though…you didn't have time to think about it, you decided to kick those thoughts out of your mind.

you felt sams hands start to caress your thighs, slowly going further up everytime he brought he has close to your body.

his hands eventually got under your dress, grabbing at your ass, then coming up to your waist.

"can i take this off, angel?" he asked, pulling on the material of your dress.

you nodded and bit your lip, hoping he would like what he saw. when he finally got a view of your matching set, you felt his cock jump in his pants beneath you.

"who'd you wear this for, hm, baby?"

"you, sammy.." it was hard to speak with his eyes burning holes into your person.

"aw, did you think you'd get a chance with me?"

"a girl can dream, can't she?" you giggled mid way through your sentence. he smiled and took his time admiring the effort you put into your outfit.

"such a pretty girl, wore all this for me" his fingers trickled up your thighs once again, getting closer and closer to your pussy, which now had soaked through the pretty rose covered panties you wore tonight.

he started to rub your clothed clit, causing your body to jolt against his. you couldn't bear the feeling of it anymore, you grabbed his hand and guided it down into your panties.

"you poor girl..you made such a mess in your panties"

" 's cuz of you sammy"

he took a deep breath in and rubbed up and down your pussy, lubing his finger up with the slick your cunt had created. once he thought his finger was well slippery enough, he slowly allowed his finger to slide into you. you gasped, slowly grinding down onto his finger.

he started to wiggle his finger, rubbing the pad of it against your gspot, creating a beautiful sensation of pleasure washed over you. you looked down to see his dick print very prominent in his sweatpants.

your mouth watered at the sight of it. without thinking, you grabbed his cock out of his sweatpants. as you did so, sam was able to slip another finger in, causing you to gasp once again.

you started to pump his poor cock, it looked like it was aching for relief.

"sam- oh fuck- sam please fuck me already"

"let me take these off, princess" he pulled his fingers out of your cunt and helped you slide your panties off.

you sat back on his lap as he reached around to your bra clasp.

"can i take this off, sweetheart?"

you hesitated for a second before nodding.

"are you okay? im not forcing you to do anything, baby"

"no! no! i do- i just- uhm…its my first time.."

sam cooed at you.

"don't worry, baby, I'll be careful with your pretty self."

you nodded and gave a quick kiss before telling him he had permission to take your bra off.

after you were fully exposed to him, you started on him. you took his shirt off, taking just a brief moment to appreciate his shirtless torso. he possibly was the most beautiful man you've ever seen.

next were his sweatpants and boxers. the energy of the room was so hot and heavy, knowing you were about to fuck your favorite rockstar.

"are you ready, love?"

you nodded as sam brought your body closer to his before sitting you down on his cock. you winced, his size stretching you out for the first time.

once the pain subdued, it all sank in. youre fucking samuel francis fucking kiszka.

"you can move sammy" you said, taking the opportunity to touch his chest. he took your hips in his hands and used it to start slow, letting you get used to everything going on.

"fuck baby, so good around my cock. so. fucking. perfect." he groaned out, timing his words with his thrusts.

"faster- fucking faster please" you couldnt help but whine for him.

you bounced around with him, moans filling up the space you were in.

"god you're so much better than i fucking thought, sam"

"yeah? i bet you touched your pretty little pussy to my pictures every night. don't you, baby?"

"fuck fuck fuck yes sam!" your moans became more of a whine.

"just a bit more baby, fuck I'm so close"

"me too, please, fuck!"

sam pulled out and let his cum paint your stomach as you fell into his chest, jerking back and forth from the orgasm. your vision went blurry for a good second before you came back down to your senses. sam was rubbing your lower back, comforting you.

"you did such a good job for me, baby"

you placed a couple kisses on his chest, before taking a deep breath.

"are you okay?"

you nodded

"i loved it."

sam soon helped you clean the cum off your stomach.

"here, let's lay in here." he guided you over to the bunk beds.

it was a small bed but if you cuddled close enough, you'd both fit. sam went first and then you. you both wrapped your arms around each other, breathing each other's scent.

tonight was something you never would have expected.

you both made small talk until samuel brought up a serious topic.

"y/n…i want you to come on tour with me.

"what- i- sam..we barely know each other-"

"i don't care, y/n. i feel like i've known you my entire life, i want you with me."

"...okay sam..I'll go on tour with you."

you both were giggling and blushy for the rest of the night, but one thing bugged, even after everyone was asleep.

how am i telling my boyfriend?

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everythingeverywheresblog · 2 years

Text

Stars and Migraines - Chapter four

Chapter four

Sydney's POV

One week. It's been one whole week I have been working for Daniel and he still hasn't asked me my name or struck any sort of conversation besides his, oh so rich, answers to my questions such as "okay", "hmm", "sure" and the magnificent "yes", "no".

He is absolutely impossible to be around, unless you're just like him of course.

But the thing is, he is not like that. He's talkative and smiley and polite to quite literally everyone else but me.

Every day that goes by and I have to be near him, he strikes one more nerve and I loose it. Discreetly, though, because I'm still a professional.

I just cannot grasp how the man I've idolizing for over two years is turning out to be just another driver who fakes a personality in front of the cameras. And the worst part of it all is talking about it with my dad. Obviously I don't tell him Daniel sucks, so I just have to lie. Which I hate doing.

"Hello pretty." Lando walks sits down on the chair next to mine while I write down notes. "Who got you so frowny?"

I turn my head to look at him with confusion written all over my features but soon come to realize I've almost ripped the paper with the force I put on my pencil and my brows are close to touching each other.

I instantly relax and gently whip out my kindest smile. "No one, all is good."

Lando raises his eyebrows at me and pulls a look of disbelief. I shrug my shoulders and get back to my work, struggling to keep the smile shining. "Anyways," he drags out the word. "We're all going at this little thing on Sunday--George will be there too by the way-- and I think you should come."

"When you say little thing, do you mean the race? Because it's this Sunday and I'm definitely going. It's kind of my job." I tease him and he laughs while shaking his head.

"No, after the race." I consider the offer for a while before telling him that I'll be there. He sits with me for a while, striking up different topics of conversations--one of which being about his girlfriend and the media and me giving him advice on what to do.

By the end of my working hours, I've completed everything that needed top be done and I have gained a new friend.

Just as Lando bids me goodbye, Daniel walks in. He eyes his teammate then looks between me and where he saw Lando sit. My good mood and genuine smile evaporate once I see his frown and shadowy eyes and I immediately go into work mode, getting up and handing him some notes.

"Mr. Brown believes that you need to express more excitement about the championship; like you believe in it more. And I think so too, but don't over-do it."

"I'll believe it when I see it." His Australian accent comes out more when he's mumbling.

I ignore the comment and go on. "Mr. Zack also insisted that you don't feed into the contract rumors about next year. I say we focus more on letting them know you're here now, and that you're winning for McLaren."

"Why don't we leave you to drive too, huh?" He says through his teeth with his eyes still in the notes I passed on. "And it's been one race. I'm not winning, I just won."

With my anger starting to bubble and rise to my neck, I make the sensible decision to take a deep breath and let it go. "Yes, Mr. Ricciardo."

"I said my name's Daniel."

"I'm aware of your name," I grab my things and get ready to walk. "Mr. Ricciardo."

This race weekend will be tough.

- - - -

Daniel won, Lando made it a one-two finish for the team. So the little thing we went to after the race quickly became a celebration party with every driver on the grid getting shitfaced; either because they got a good result in, or in attempt to drown the sorrows away.

I am in the middle of singing my heart out in between Lando and Charles, the number two and three of today's podium, when my voice suddenly dies and I become aware of the drought that prevails in my mouth right now.

So I detangle myself from the two happy boys and let them know I'm going over at the bar to grab something to drink.

Once I sit on one of the stools I feel my whole body scream in pain. My shoes start to feel suffocating, my legs weak and my arms limp. I check the time on my phone and after seeing 4:06 staring at my soul, I decide it's probably time to head out.

My eyes search though the crowd as I gulp down the water, trying to locate any familiar face to make aware that I'm leaving.

"What are you doing here?"

I turn my head and come across a sour-faced Daniel. Ever the well-dressed as always, with a white cotton dress shirt--three top buttons loose of course--black pants and his curls all fixed and pretty.

"You could answer instead of checking me out you know."

I laugh. "Not checking you out. Just wondering what type of question that was."

"A simple one."

I look at him and for once he's looking back at me. That's new. I don't know what to do. My brain's all confused and can't concentrate as well, all the alcohol Lando has given me striking once and for all.

"Celebrating the team." I go with, desperately wishing he drops the subject and leaves me alone. My night has been really fun, actually, and I'd hate to mess it up by yelling at my boss.

"Why?" Guess not.

"Why? I know you probably don't think so, but in one way or the other I am part of your team and I have every right to be there after a really great weekend." His inexpressive face gets me more than anything and I can feel a headache forming.

"You're kidding yourself if you really think that."

I stare at him in disbelief.

What?

"What are you two doing here? You should be dancing!" A tipsy Lando interrupts us, draping his hands on both our shoulders, inevitably bringing us closer.

I can feel tears gather in my eyes and I breathe heavily in order to keep everything in. Daniel looks stunned, stuck looking at me with a slightly open mouth. It's like realization hit him, but he doesn't so much as move from Lando's grasp. Whereas I softly grab his arm and let it fall, my face breaking into a smile once I move my stare at Lando's confused face.

"I have to go." Lando juts his bottom lip out and I fake a chuckle. "It's way too late and I have an early flight tomorrow. Have fun and I'll catch up with you guys next week."

I don't let neither of the boys speak as I nearly run to the exit. When I am out of that place, away from the crowd and enveloped with a refreshing cold air, I can finally let out the biggest of breaths and take in another one.

It calms me down, washes off my fiery emotions and allows me to regain my strength.

Work will be quite interesting next week.

- - - -

Two out of two for Daniel, onto the next race, his home race, with a decent qualifying for a regular driver. P3. Daniel felt as if he was walking on hot coal all Saturday night after the session and Sunday was none the better.

P3 is not too bad and with the sheer pace of the car, Daniel can easily please the home crowd with a good result. He's not too worried about that.

"Do you even know her name?"

Zak's words hit him every now and then. When his boss called him in this morning, Daniel wasn't expecting what he was told. Sydney, as he found out she is called, asked to be repositioned in the team as Lando's social media manager. Zak would be happy to make that change and Lando seemed more than willing, but last minute it dawned on the CEO that it wouldn't look that great if it got out that the championship leader managed to drive away one of the workers.

Daniel shouldn't really be that surprised, but he is. He treated her like shit last week at the club and he basically told her that her job at McLaren had no worth.

He deserves that ego slap. He's still pissed about it though.

"Did you ask to be repositioned?"

Neither his tone, nor the force with which he opened the door to his driver's room where he knew she's in seems to struck her in any way. She has her body leaning on top of a small desk, fanning out some papers and writing down notes. She doesn't even look up at Daniel, placing her pen down and screening her eyes over what she's written.

"I did. There's some issue that has come up, expectedly if I'm asked. The press is going to be all over it and the interviews today are going to be all about how with every win you seem to get...moodier." Is she smirking?

She turns around and finally looks at Daniel who, listening to her completely disregard the subject he brought up, has ended up bright red from the frustration.

"My advice would be to smile. And follow these." She hands him a paper with what seems to be some sort of answers to potential questions.

But Daniel doesn't care. He's still hung up on her request to switch drivers.

"Why did you ask to trade me for Lando?"

"Mr. Ricciardo," that makes Daniel's blood boil as much as it creates an uneasy feeling he can't quite acknowledge, considering the situation he's in. "you and I have business to attend. Discussing on this matter would take up much valued time, so I rather suggest you bring this up again later."

Her voice and words are so mechanic, so...robotic. He hates every single second of it, anger raking up his skin at her attitude. She doesn't care for what she did, at least that's how it looks. Her face is unbothered, her body language lets Daniel know that him calling her out means absolutely nothing and she just wants to move on to do her job. Sydney gives literally no shit about Daniel.

"I'm not going anywhere until you answer my question." He's firm. Sydney's eyes darken and the slightest frown cracks her calm exterior.

But she tries again.

Sydney takes a big breath and starts walking to the door where Daniel is standing. She reaches for the door handle and opens it as much as he allows it to. "I will be waiting for you at the media pen."

She is almost out the room when Daniel's mind goes blank. She's leaving? Without saying anything? Before he can act on that, Sydney has disappeared from the area.

If Daniel's in the wrong, why does he feel as if she's the enemy?

@monte-carlando

#f1 fic #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo fic #dr3 #f1 imagine #imagines #f1 #original character #daniel ricciardo x oc #fanfic #f1 fanfic

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toomanyf4ndoms7 · 1 year

Text

A visitor.

Summary: Raven always figured the whole “Spirits cross over to the living world” thing in Halloween was just a story. Turns out fate has one hell of a sense of humour.

Surprisingly, Raven didn’t have many opinions about Halloween. Sure it was nice that she could decorate a little especially since she had her own place now and it was an excuse to take a break and watch old movies. But she wasn’t too attached to trick or treaters or people knocking on her door.

There was also the disadvantage of loneliness but that’s something to think about tomorrow. For now she was sitting on the couch with a bowl of assorted sweets. Hopefully whatever was on TV would put her to sleep.

There was suddenly a knock at the door.

Raven opened the door.

It was Kelly. She was smiling.

“Well? Aren’t you gonna invite me in?”

Raven was motionless with her mouth agape. She took steps back. This couldn’t be real. She had lost it, this was a dream, people don’t come back. She doesn’t come back. Kelly walked forward, that just made things worse until Kelly touched her face.

“Hey, hey. It’s me. I’m real.”

Raven was In disbelief. No way this was real. But she looked so real and sounded so real that she realised she didn’t care if it was real or not. Her mouth finally found words to speak as they spilled out of her mouth.

‘How... What... Why?”

Kelly held up a finger as she explained. Just like she used to back when...

Before.

“The how is because apparently I get to visit once a year. The what is that I’m a ghost. The why is... I’m sure you already know.”

Placing her hand back down, Kelly looked around her surroundings. She hummed in approval.

“Nice place. Had a feeling you’d get festive.”

Raven rolled her eyes, feeling like the old days. She had indeed adorned her house with decorations. Nothing outside, the last thing she wants is annoying kids and religious parents knocking on her door.

“You’d do the same thing.”

A shrug.

“Fair.”

“Okay, so what are the ghost rules?”

Kelly raised an eyebrow.

“Ghost rules?”

“Yeah, like what can or can’t you do? Are we going off of Daniel spectre rules or Shadow of the soul rules?”

Kelly took a moment to think before answering.

“For starters I can float through walls and move things with my mind.”

As if to demonstrate she lounged back against the wall and fell through. She then levitated a coffee cup with her hand.

“Also, I can touch people but they can’t touch me. So I can do this…”

Kelly rubbed her hand across Raven’s face. She then picked up Ravens hand and brought it to her face. The hand went through her face with no discomfort or sense of touch beyond a slight chill.

“But you can’t do this.”

With her suspicions dismissed Raven took a breath and fired her shot.

“So, while you’re here... Wanna watch a movie?”

The smile warmed Raven’s guarded heart just a little.

“Thought you’d never ask, Rave.”

The movie was fun. Cheesy, over-acted, stupid fun. But that’s what they needed. They sat close to each other on the couch and Kelly turned to Raven as the credits rolled.

“Hey... I was watching when you gave that speech to my grave. You know, confessing your love?”

Try as she might Raven couldn’t supress the subtle red from appearing on her cheeks. Luckily the room was dark otherwise she’d never live it down.

“What about it?”

Kelly’s lips met Raven’s and all the pain of the past seemed to wash away as she enveloped herself in this moment. After a minute Kelly pulled back with a smile.

‘You’re not the only one with an epiphany.”

Did she just...

She totally did.

Leave it to Kelly to pick just the right moment for our first kiss.

Raven finally found her words and didn’t fight the smile that grew on her face.

“You’ve been practicing that?”

Kelly spied the clock. Eleven thirty.

“Thirty minutes left. Any idea what to do?”

“How about we just stay here?”

Raven felt her hand being gripped.

“I’m cool with that.”

They laughed at the absurdity of the situation. Your best friend visits you on Halloween as a ghost and ending up together on the couch.

Romance novel bullshit.

“I missed this.”

“Me too.”

When Raven woke up the next morning Kelly was gone. She was about to brush it off as fate throwing her a bone for once before she noticed the letter on the table.

“See you next year. PS, if you see my parents I want you to give them the finger for me. Love, Kelly”

Raven smiled as she walked up to her room. She placed the letter on her clothes drawer.

See you next year.

#Raven twisted metal #kelly twisted metal #twisted metal #twisted metal black

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moodyvalentinestories · 2 years

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Direction – Twenty-Eight | Hunt x HWU MC (Danielle)

Summary: Is something going to happen between Danielle and Hunt?

Words: 800+

Notes: This should have been finished ages ago, but I was super busy the last two weeks. Started my new job and also moving in less than two weeks so... everything’s a bit stressful. Forgive me for the kind of sporadic uploads.

❥ Previous Chapter: Twenty-Seven ❥ Moodyvalentine’s Masterlist

“I swear to God, Hunt, if you don’t fucking kiss me right now, I am going to kill you.”

Danielle sure looked angry enough to follow through on that threat, but it wasn’t fear that led Thomas to do what he did next. What she was asking of him, he realised, was exactly what he’d wanted to do for a week now. So, without a second thought, he buried his hands in her hair and pulled her into a kiss.

A kiss exactly like what he’d described to her just seconds ago. Full of passion and built-up desire, and it felt so good to finally pour it all into that kiss. Danielle let out a little moan, and Thomas pulled her even closer. He needed to feel her chest against his, her arms around him, and there was nothing in the world he wanted more than for this moment to never end.

Until he realised where they were and who was watching and what this meant for them. Shit.

Though every fibre in his body resisted, he pulled away from Danielle. And though there were a million other things he wanted to say to her then, he could not. “I suppose Viktor’s got an even better picture to keep us under his thumb now.”

Danielle looked at him in disbelief, then shook her head and told him emphatically, “Fuck you.”

Hunt stood in front of her, stone-faced, without a trace of the man that had just kissed her like… like that. Danielle wanted to scream at him to at least get any kind of emotion out of him again, but it would do her no good.

It didn’t help that she knew the bastard was right. What she had just done was give Montmartre more ammunition than he’d already had. And, this time, it wasn’t open to interpretation. Fuck.

“I hope you understand the scene better now,” Hunt said then, louder than he needed to.

Danielle rolled her eyes. As if anyone would believe that he was just helping her with the scene. Still, she reluctantly played along. “Yes. Thank you for your… notes.”

Hunt then called everyone back to resume shooting. They did two more takes of that scene before wrapping for the day. Luckily, the cast and crew was split into two groups for the hike back to the cars, and Danielle was not in the same one as Hunt. She would have hated to have to face him with witnesses around.

When they got ready to leave, Chris walked up to Danielle with a grin. “Looks like we’re walking together.”

She suppressed a groan. Surely, Chris had seen them, too, and would want to know exactly what had happened there. She’d been glad they hadn’t had time to speak yet, but as they were sharing a room, not talking now would only mean delaying the conversation.

The two of them positioned themselves all the way at the back of the group so they would have some privacy. As soon as they had left and were reasonably sure Hunt wouldn’t hear them, Chris turned to Danielle with a grin still on his face. “So… should I expect you to move into Hunt’s room now?”

“No,” Danielle huffed. “Absolutely not. I did something stupid and, well, I think now he’s rather cross with me.”

Chris raised an eyebrow. “From where I stood, it looked like he was the one who kissed you.”

“It’s… complicated,” she said with a shrug. She didn’t want to tell him about the entire blackmail situation. He knew some – must have suspected more – of it, but she was sure Hunt would not appreciate her telling him their business. “He was my professor, and the optics of it all would be—”

“Oh, that again? Listen, Dani, it has been years. Some people will talk, sure, but people talked about us, too. I don’t know what it is that you two have going on but, clearly, there is something that needs to be worked out. So—”

“I know you just want to help,” Danielle interrupted him. “I know you do. But… you don’t understand all that is going on, okay?”

Chris sighed. “And I hate that I don’t. But at least talk to him. If not for yourself then, please, do it for the benefit of everyone else on set. You two being at war is not fun for the rest of us.”

“I will,” she said. She was going to do that, anyway. As much as her rational side knew that what she had done was stupid, there was that other side of her that wanted to punch the bastard in the face. How dare he kiss her with all that passion and then just… nothing? No. She deserved better than that.

Thomas would have almost been glad if he had slipped and fallen on the hike back. He knew whatever awaited him at the cottage would be a much more unpleasant experience.

To his surprise, though, there was no one waiting for him by the front door, or in the living room, or in front of his room. That was very unlike Danielle, and for a short moment he wondered whether she had been reasonable for once.

That was, of course, until he opened the door to his room and saw her sitting on his bed.

Shit.

Tags: @alj4890 @oneemofungirl @trappedinfandoms @silversparrow1112 @lilyoffandoms @alleksa16

#hwu #hwu hunt #danielle #choices #choices stories you play #playchoices #hollywood u: rising stars #thomas hunt #professor hunt

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pcwpolwrestling · 2 months

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3/10-Extreme Political TV/Super Tuesday Clash

Political Championship Wrestling Extreme Political TV Sunday March 10th, 2024 Taped Tuesday in South Padre Beach, Texas

Announcers: ‘The Voice of PCW’ Johnny Suave AGE: 50 / HT: 5’ 11” WT: 195 HOME: Philadelphia, PA HAIR: Brown / STYLE: Like Ronnie Dunn / FACE: Goatee DRESS: Brown suit without tie

Colleen Crowder of ‘That Big New York Newspaper that Pushes Narrative as News’ AGE: 38 / HT: 5’ 5” WT: 142 HOME: New York City, NY HAIR: Black / STYLE: Curly / FACE: Narrow face with rounded jaw, turned-up nose, faint freckles, and thin lips. Bulging blue eyes, thin eyebrows. DRESS: Black pants suit

Opening The energy in the arena was electric, palpitating with an intensity that could ignite the ocean itself. “PCW… PCW… PCW…” The chant grew louder and more fervent as Johnny Suave stood tall and proud in the center of the ring, his voice cutting through the cacophony like a knife through butter.

“Hello everyone and welcome to Political Championship Wrestling!” he bellowed, igniting a frenzy in the crowd. South Padre Island erupted, spring breakers’ voices melding with those of die-hard wrestling fans, their cheers creating a symphony of unabated excitement.

“Tonight,” Suave continued, his hands gesturing as if to physically grab each word from the air, “we’re bringing the heat to South Padre Island, Texas! Get ready for the Super Tuesday Clash showdown between Nikki Haley and Donald Trump… and PCW CEO Joe Biden will also be in action tonight!”

Professor McCarthy Segment His words were barely out before the atmosphere shifted, the mood turning as sour as day-old beer left under the Texan sun. Berkeley, California, Professor McCarthy strutted down to the ring, his Flock (Codee Pink, Emily S. List, The Young Jerks, and The Legion of Anti-Fascists aka…LOAF) in tow, their faces set in a self-righteous sneer that matched their leader’s.

McCarthy clutched his ‘good book of politically correct things, thoughts, and views’ against his chest as if it were the last bastion of hope in a world gone mad with freedom.

“Charlie Blackwell, you insult every intelligent person,” McCarthy spat, his voice dripping with disdain. “by the way you prance around with that fake belt when you have no moral authority to call yourself the World Champion!”

The crowd in the red seats booed, their disapproval raining down like a storm of discontent. McCarthy turned his venom toward the new PCW Tag Team Champions. “And the so-called new tag team champions… the jingoistic, nationalistic Starz N. Stripes and Stone Chism are unworthy of the glory they carry on their shoulders. The Green World Order are the moral champions.”

But then, like a bolt from the blue, Charlie Blackwell emerged, unphased, a smirk playing on his lips. “I’ll take on anyone you put in front of me tonight,” he declared. “And hell, I’ll even do it with one hand tied behind my back-“

Before the words fully left his mouth, chaos ensued. The Green World Order (GreenPete, ‘Extreme Vegan’ Brock Cole Lee, PeaceNick, and Peta from PETA) ambushed Blackwell, but the American Heartland Coalition was quick to respond. ‘Red Solo Cup’ Ray McAvay and ‘Prairie Populist’ William Daniels Bryan joined the fray, their fists flying like flags of rebellion.

The brawl spilled out of the ring, a maelstrom of bodies colliding with a ferocity that shook the very foundations of the PCW. They crashed through the ropes, battling tooth and nail as they disappeared backstage, leaving the crowd in a feverish state of awe and anticipation.

“Only at PCW, folks,” Suave said, shaking his head with a mix of disbelief and admiration, “can you find such an unhinged cocktail of wrestling and raw political satire.” The scene faded, but the echo of the crowd’s chants lingered, a testament to the madness that was Political Championship Wrestling.

Video Clip of Joe Biden’s State of PCW Address The lights dimmed, tension crackled in the air like static electricity as PCW CEO Joe Biden, wearing a hooded cloak in darkness and mystery right out of a world-famous movie space movie franchise, took center stage earlier this week for the State of PCW address. His voice boomed, each word laced with the confidence of a man who held power in the palm of his hand. “Under my reign, PCW has been lifted from the slums of obscurity to the pinnacle of political wrestling entertainment,” he declared, his eyes piercing through the shadows under the hood of his Emperor Palpatine-like robe.

The crowd roared as Biden took the stage, his face twisted into a sneer as he scanned the sea of red hats and American flags. “American Patriots,” he spat, drawing out each syllable with disdain. “Donald Trump… You and your extremist MAGA followers are relics of a bygone era.” The room erupted in a mixture of jeers and cheers, but Biden waited for the fervor to swell before continuing. “Let’s also not forget the unticketed issue,” he added, gesturing towards the overflowing crowd. “People who try to get into PCW events without paying for a ticket do so illegally.”

In a stark contrast, Dawn McGill stood in her office, surrounded by the reminders of her sacrifices – the stills from her Henhouse photo shoot (the tamest and tasteful ones). “No, it’s not,” she retorted sharply, her eyes scanning the images that chronicled her journey to revive PCW. “This is the price I paid to breathe life into this federation.” Her gaze was steely, unflinching, as she embodied the spirit of resilience.

Back at the broadcast desk, Johnny Suave couldn’t resist a wry smile, “McGill should do it again to help pay off the national debt.” His quip hung in the air, a playful jab at the absurdity of it all.

Replay: Joe Biden Super Tuesday Clash Match Highlights “Welcome back folks,” Suave said, his voice cutting through the arena as he sat beside Colleen Crowder, the narrative-driven journalist whose words shaped perceptions. “Up next, we have the Super Tuesday Clash match.

“Absolutely, Johnny,” Colleen chimed in, her voice carrying the weight of her paper’s narrative. “Biden absolutely knocked it out of the park with his address. He’s on track to dominate PCW for another four years and prove why he deserves to be the Supreme CEO of PCW.”

The moment arrived. The match began with Biden, still donning his ominous Palpatine-ish garb, pushing the hood back to reveal a glare that could cut glass. Across the ring, a red-shirted jobber trembled, straight out of a Star Trek episode, perhaps already accepting his fate.

“Look at the intensity in Biden’s eyes!” Suave exclaimed as the bell rang. But then, pandemonium erupted when Biden unleashed a devastating laser beam from his eyes, missing his intended target and accidentally striking a security guard in the backdrop, who dropped to the floor in a heap.

“Wrong direction, Mr. CEO!” Suave shouted, the crowd gasping in horror. Aides scrambled, redirecting Biden’s gaze toward the hapless jobber, who was promptly incinerated by another burst of Biden’s laser vision. The match ended almost as soon as it began, the red-shirted wrestler reduced to ash, a victim of the merciless display of power.

“An easy win for Biden,” Colleen boasted, brushing off the accident with the security guard. “Just a preview of the Blue Wave coming in November!”

Suave raised an eyebrow, “What about the poor guard?”

But Colleen had no time for collateral damage, her narrative unshaken. “This is PCW, Johnny. It’s survival of the fittest.”

The camera lingered on Suave’s face, a mix of concern and disbelief etched across his features as he contemplated the brutal nature of Political Championship Wrestling.

Spring Break Update “Chaos backstage!” Woodward Bernstein’s voice cut through the din of disgruntled spring breakers, his words barely audible over their raucous complaints. The camera shook slightly as it captured the scene—a group of rowdy youth adorned in neon tank tops and oversized sunglasses, each one looking more indignant than the last.

“Tell me,” Bernstein shouted, trying to hold the microphone steady as a beach ball bounced off his head, “what has brought this level of… dissatisfaction among you all?”

A sunburned young man, with a half-empty plastic cup of beer sloshing in his hand, leaned into the microphone. “We came here to PCW to party hard! You know, like South Padre Island style—break some rules, get wasted, and enjoy the mayhem!”

“Instead,” a girl with her hair in messy braids chimed in, “we got MVW Security on our tails the moment we tried to lighten up the mood!” She gestured wildly behind her, where security personnel stood firm, arms crossed, unamused by the antics.

“PCW used to be about the freedom to throw down!” another added. “Now, it’s just like any other snoozefest.”

“Hey,” Bernstein interjected, “aren’t there plenty of other ways to enjoy your time here without causing trouble?”

“Boooring!” the crowd chanted in unison, a symphony of discontent echoing down the corridors.

“Alright, alright,” Bernstein replied, dodging another inflatable object. “I think we’ve heard enough.” He turned back to the camera. “You’ve witnessed it first-hand, folks—PCW’s spring break guests are not happy campers.”

Joe Biden Apologizes The feed switched abruptly back to Johnny Suave and Colleen Crowder at the broadcast desk, both wearing expressions that suggested they’d seen such antics before.

“Breaking news, folks,” Suave announced, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Apparently, causing chaos is now considered ‘partying.’ Who knew?” He rolled his eyes so visibly that it could almost be heard.

“Speaking of breaking news,” Colleen interjected, her tone serious but with a hint of approval, “PCW CEO Joe Biden has issued an apology for his previous comments stating people who attempt to attend PCW shows without tickets are doing so ‘illegally.’”

The screen split, showing Biden with a contrite expression. “My choice of words was poor,” he said solemnly. “From now on, we will refer to them as ‘unticketed newcomers.’ We welcome all fans.”

Back at the desk, Suave couldn’t help himself. His eyes performed yet another dramatic roll, visible even to those in the cheap seats.

“Unticketed newcomers,” Colleen repeated with a nod, fully onboard with the new narrative. “It’s inclusive and understanding.”

“Sure, if you say so,” Suave muttered, his skepticism thick as molasses. “But wait, there’s more,” he continued, now cutting back to Bernstein, who had somehow survived the spring breaker storm.

Mitch McConnell Update “Thank you, Johnny,” Bernstein said, straightening his tie. “In a surprising turn of events, Mitch McConnell will be stepping down as one of the leaders of the American Patriots.”

“Really?” Colleen’s face fell, her allegiance to the narrative clear. “That’s a shame. McConnell had quite the rapport with Biden.”

“Such a loss for bipartisanship,” Suave quipped dryly. “Well, folks, stay tuned. If tonight’s any indication, the road to November in PCW is going to be one wild ride.”

And with that, the screen faded to black, punctuated by the distant sound of spring breakers chanting, “PCW! PCW! PCW!”

MAIN EVENT: Donald Trump vs. Nikki Haley-Super Tuesday Clash Match The arena pulsated with the rhythm of uncontained excitement as Kimber Marshall’s voice cut through the noise, “Introducing first, the challenger, Nikki Haley!” The crowd offered a mixed response, some jeering, others cheering as Colleen Crowder, the left-leaning commentator, couldn’t contain her partiality, punching the air in support. Johnny Suave’s voice remained steady yet tinged with a hint of foreboding, “Folks, take a good look. This might be the last time we see Haley make this walk.”

“Johnny, don’t count her out just yet,” Colleen retorted, her eyes locked on Haley’s determined stride.

“Make way for the Trumpinator!” Kimber’s announcement shifted the energy to new heights as Donald Trump emerged, his appearance a tongue-in-cheek homage to the cyborg assassin, drawing a raucous ovation from the red seats. Swagger and confidence incarnate, he descended upon the ring like a force of nature, each step resonating with the promise of impending battle.

*Ding ding ding!*

“Main event time at Super Tuesday Clash!” Suave bellowed as the bell echoed. The clash began with an exchange of heavy blows, the two political titans locked in a struggle for supremacy. It seemed inevitable that Trump, with his larger than life presence, would dominate – but Haley was no pushover. She absorbed hit after hit, resilient as ever, rising to meet each new challenge with unwavering defiance.

“Look at Haley go! She’s not backing down an inch!” Suave exclaimed, as the brawl spilled over the ropes, crashing into the territory of the fervent front-row spectators. Each punch thrown drew gasps and shouts, creating a chaotic symphony of violence and spectacle.

Then, in a moment of brutal precision, Trump executed a jarring gourdbuster right onto the unforgiving steel of the guard rail, sending shivers down the collective spine of the audience. With Haley reeling, Trump sauntered back into the squared circle, exhibiting the patience of a seasoned predator awaiting its prey.

“Trump may have just sealed the deal here!” Suave’s voice carried a note of concern as Haley, battered but not beaten, clawed her way back to her feet, determination etched across her face.

“Come on, Nikki!” Colleen’s cheerleading reached fever pitch as Haley, with a sudden burst of adrenaline, stumbled toward the apron, her hand snatching a steel chair from beneath the ring. The crowd held their breath as she slid back into the ring, armed and ready for retribution.

“Things are about to get extreme!” Suave declared, the old ECW spirit alive in his words as the Political Championship Wrestling universe braced itself for the next chapter in this high-stakes saga.

The chair crashes against Trump’s back, a metallic thud echoing through the arena. “Haley’s going full throttle!” Suave’s voice rises with excitement. But Trump stands defiant, an unyielding mountain in the eye of the storm.

“Unbelievable! The Trumpinator won’t go down!” Suave is half impressed, half incredulous.

“Keep hitting him, Nikki!” Colleen implores, her voice laced with desperation. Haley unleashes a flurry of moves—a sharp kick to the groin, another vicious chair shot—yet, Trump remains on his feet, as if fueled by some inexhaustible power source.

“Is he even human?” Suave questions, bemusement creeping into his tone.

“Come on! That’s got to hurt,” Colleen argues, her bias barely concealed.

In a swift motion, Trump’s large hands grasp the chair, ripping it away from Haley’s grip. *CLANG!* Down goes Haley, the sound reverberating like a gong of defeat.

“Good grief! Haley’s been flattened!” Suave’s voice matches the shockwave that ripples through the crowd.

“Outrageous!” Colleen’s voice cracks, incensed by the turn of events. Trump sets up two chairs with methodical precision, grabbing Haley to her feet.

“Trump’s looking to end this now,” Suave notes grimly.

But Haley, driven by sheer will, rakes Trump’s eyes in a desperate counter-attack. Trump staggers but quickly recovers, hoisting Haley into the air.

“Here it comes… Tornado DDT!” Suave bellows as Trump drives Haley skull-first through both chairs with catastrophic force.

The impact splits the arena—red seats erupt in raucous cheers while the blue seats sit in stunned silence. Trump hooks the leg: one…two…three.

“Kimber Marshall confirms it—your winner, Donald Trump!” Suave declares, the finality of the moment hanging heavy in the air.

WINNER: Donald Trump

Colleen pouts, her narrative shattered by reality. Trump basks in his victory, exiting the ring amidst a chorus of adulation and disdain.

Nikki Haley Segment Haley, ever the warrior, rises to her feet and grasps the microphone with a shaky hand. “Thank you for your unwavering support,” she begins, gratitude infusing her words as she addresses the nation. She concedes her campaign with dignity, urging Trump to reach out to those who stood with her.

“An honorable exit,” Suave acknowledges, respect evident in his voice.

“Disappointing,” Colleen adds tersely, her dreams of a different outcome dashed upon the canvas.

Mitch McConnell Update Backstage, the atmosphere crackled with the electric aftermath of the Super Tuesday Clash. Amidst the cacophony of production crew and the lingering adrenaline, PCW’s Woodward Bernstein took center stage, microphone in hand, his expression grave yet tinged with the excitement of breaking news.

“PCW Universe,” Bernstein boomed, “I’ve just received word that Mitch McConnell is now officially backing Donald Trump for the CEO position of PCW.” His announcement cut through the noise, commanding attention.

In the broadcast booth, Colleen Crowder’s face soured instantly, a visceral reaction as if she’d bitten into a lemon. “That’s really unfortunate,” she lamented, her voice a mixture of disappointment and disbelief. “McConnell had such a productive working relationship with Joe Biden and…” Her words trailed off into a frustrated sputter; hands thrown up in a gesture of exasperation as if to say, ‘What’s the use?’

‘The Voice of PCW’ Johnny Suave, cool as ever in his ringside seat, leaned towards the mic, his voice calm and measured, providing the counterbalance to Colleen’s emotional turbulence. “Well, Colleen, it looks like the landscape of PCW is changing once again. With Mitch McConnell’s support, Donald Trump solidifies his standing. And folks, you heard it here first—it will be Donald Trump versus Joe Biden this November for CEO of PCW!”

The camera lingered on Suave’s confident smile, a stark contrast to Colleen’s discomfiture. The scene backstage faded out, but the implications of Bernstein’s news echoed throughout the arena, setting the stage for a monumental showdown come November.

“Will Biden continue his reign or will Trump regain the throne?” Suave posed the question to the viewers at home, his voice infused with the hype that only PCW could deliver. “One thing is certain—it’s going to be an all-out war for control of PCW.”

As the show reached its crescendo, Suave delivered the closing line with the gravitas of a seasoned ring veteran, “Goodnight from South Padre Island, Texas.”

The screen went black, the roar of the crowd fading into silence.

RESULTS: -MAIN EVENT-Donald Trump defeated Nikki Haley in the Super Tuesday Clash match

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