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#I swear I don't normally get this political
avalikesf19 · 8 hours
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A Day at quadrant: LN4 (Part 2)
Author note: I don’t even know how to post anything on this and never wrote a fic but I hope this is good but I think it’s pretty shit and I haven’t finished it yet and if any writers want to use this idea you can for sure just @ me please oh and if you have feedback please let me know thanks xx
Also i tried to change my like writing style thing cause i feel like it was shit last time but yeah idk
Lando x quadrant fem reader
Blurb: reader is a member of quadrant, she games most of the time but also likes f1 along with her best friend Ria bish. She is friends with all members at quadrant and finds it a good laugh with all her mates, but maybe her view of someone in particular is more than a mate..
Warnings: sexualising, swearing, mention of a gun, leaked tape, sad distraught reader, friends to maybe lovers if I make it a series? Smut-ish? If I missed any let me know (I don’t know how to do warnings sorry x)
Well wasn't last week a fucking eventful week. You still cant stop thinking about Lando right next to you comforting you about what happened. You're starting to feel better about the whole issue and get some support from people online and all the other members of quadrant, but fuck that was just shit. You haven't been in any quadrant videos since, but you're in a better place now and probably need to start participating in them more.
Lando and ethan make the idea of quadrant meeting up at landos apartment and trying to train like him for a day. You aren't exactly looking foward to it but oh well, at least Ria is going. You text your gc back and tell them that you will do it too. Then, you get a message.
Lando: are you 100% sure ur okay to come back and film already? you dont have to if you dont want to.
Y/n: yep. I need to get in more videos and im feeling better anyways, thanks for asking.
Lando: all good
Well that was polite and unexpected of Lando to reach out, but whats more unexpected is for your panties to be soaked right now over 2 text messages. well fuck, oopsies.
That night all you can think of is Lando, it's a bit embarrassing to admit, but he was circling around your head like it was an f1 race. You decide to get your head out of it and call Ria to come over and have a chat, since she is your best friend after all. Shortly she pulls up to your apartment in Monaco, funning in bursting of excitement to see you.
"RIAAAAAAA!" you shout when you open the door for her. "Y/NNNN" she replied back. You give her a hug and make her a cup of coffee just how she likes it. You guys sit and chat about the f1 grand prix in Bahrain coming up, and how you hope Lando continues to have a good season with Oscar this year. "Did you see the chat about the new yt vid we doing" You ask Ria. "omg yes and they are bringing angry ginge in I heard" Ria replies back.
"STOP IT" you yell back laughing. You love ginge and his videos, who wouldn't? he's a very very funny bloke. "OMG i''m definitely coming tomorrow then to the recording are you kidding?".
Unfortunately time goes by when you're having fun, and Ria was the most fun, so she had to go a few hours later which felt like minutes. Besides you both need sleep for the youtube vid you're filming tmr at Lando's. You go to bed and try to sleep as much as you can, which didnt happen lol.
rise and shine love. It's already 6am and time to go to Lando's place to film. Normally you don't have to wakeup early as fuck but for the purpose of the video and "being Lando Norris" you had no choice. You get to his apartment after parking at the front and knock on the door, to which he opens. "hi y/n" he says nicely and gives you a hug. "So good to see you Lando, where is everyone?".
"first here mate" he says almost excitedly. "so what are we actually doing today like playing video games or some shit" you say. "haha your funny mate, we are lifting weights, eating what i eat, using the sim, and neck strengthening" he says laughing at you. "fuck r u taking the piss" you say laughing. "oh my days Landoooo do I look like an f1 driver" you also reply with. "well yeah thats the whole point of the video ya dumb fuck" he replied jokingly.
"hahaha get fucked lando nowins" you snap back. he laughs as you proceed to miss the chair you went to lean on making you flinch and stumble looking like an idiot. he is still laughing which makes you laugh too. "Lando norizz" u reply. "haha you think I have no rizz, funny" he replies egotistically. "yeah i do actually" you don't at all, in fact he hasn't even tried yet he has rizzed you up. "wanna bet?" he snaps out.
you don't have time to think before he pins you against the wall and just looks at you with those hot eyes of his. you can already feel your cheeks burning and your thong getting wet. "you say I have no rizz yet your cheeks are burning, and I bet those panties are more soaked than that porridge you tipped over the counter when you stumbled at my gaze, huh?" he grunts out.
what the fuck just happened, first how did he know and secondly did he just pin you against the wall. not the first time you want that to happen. you know what fuck it if we wants to be like that then he may as well be uncomfortable the whole video.
"how did you know about my tight, black lacy thong i'm wearing over my tight pussy hey? not your first time thinking about it aye?" you tease him, but whole walking over to him you see him looking uneasy.
why? because ginge was at the fucking door and heard that, and can see Lando's boner from a mile away. "well bonjour" ginge says laughing. "bonjour mate" lando says as he daps up ginge covering his boner and trying to ignore what just happened.
You already know this video is gonna be the longest set of your life..
sorry its a short one x
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medicinemane · 1 month
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I still argue that bleeping someone like Gorden Ramsey is bullshit so that people who love and find swearing fun can pretend that they didn't just hear him call someone a fucking donkey, because there was a bleep... like they don't know the exact word he used, like they didn't think it, and like they didn't have fun with it
Cause I bet you... any amount of money you want honestly, that if you asked Gorden Ramsey not to swear he just wouldn't... I don't think they ever bleep anything in shows where he's helping kids cook
No, people find swearing fun, it's entertaining... they just don't want to admit they like it because it's naughty
And to be clear I'm directly pointing to this and pointing to 'unalive' and drawing a line between them for how we got here
#you either don't swear or you do; bleeping is only for when no one's supposed to swear but it came out by accident#but 99% of the time; you can tell the producers wanted people to swear because their audience loves it#and at best they didn't bother telling them to keep it polite; and at worst they encouraged it#you know; I once when I was like 12 went with my mom to see Chuck D give a talk about stuff#and at the end when he went up he was like 'oh I'm so sorry; I didn't know there was a kid in the audience or I wouldn't have cussed'#and we assured him it wasn't a problem (didn't explain I'd know all of it since I was little)#(and I think to an extent even then I had a mentality of that I'd rather hear it how he was gonna say it normally)#but... he very clearly could have and would have simply kept a check on himself like everyone is capable of#and he clearly would have been more than happy to#it wasn't an 18+ event; it just was on a college and he expected adults only and talks how he talks#you can have zero naughty words most of the time... all you have to do is ask#and you can avoid serious conversations... it's polite to let people not be forced to engage with topics they don't want most of the time#hell; that's the whole point of trigger warnings#...I don't know; I'm forever fuming about this whole fucking topic#it's like a huge portion of humanity is willingly and gladly throwing shackles on#it's on thing not to say fuck; I respect the hell out of that#it's one thing to mind your words and subject; go for it#and it's also one thing not to want to listen to people swear#you know... I often do tone down how I feel like talking cause... I get some people following me might not like it... and I actually care#...it's just also... in the end this is my spot I dump bullshit out of my skull in a verbal vomit#so you get it how you get it... but like I get not wanting to hear it#but don't you fucking tell me you hate swearing and them sit their laughing at a bleeped bit from a show where someone's cursing up a storm#no you like swearing but you're just being a shifty self righteous prick that's pretending you don't to feel smug#and don't talk about death if you don't want to#but don't say 'unalive'; not unless you're meaning the opposite of undead and coming up with something interesting#if you're saying 'unalive' you're just a spineless fucker who can't even manage saying you'll kill a zombie in minecraft#(or a fool who doesn't get what you're going along with)
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irisintheafterglow · 8 months
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[bernie sanders voice] i am once again.. thinking about coparenting megumi with boyfriend!satoru.
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"so you're both megumi's..."
"guardians," you smile politely, praying stupid shit doesn't leave the mouth of the boy next to you. it's wishful thinking.
"yes," he beams so tenderly that you resist the urge to scrunch your nose in disgust. he takes your clammy hand lightly in his and turns back to megumi's teacher. "we had him young." a soft ow comes from under satoru's breath as you kick him under the table, forcing an expression of normalcy onto your face.
you hated parent-teacher conferences because it reminded you just how abnormal megumi and tsumiki's situation was. they had no parents, nor did they have any close relatives that cared for them the way a family should. that left you and the white-haired idiot in the tiny seat next to you to fill in that duty, and between missions and training students, you weren't around as often as you wanted to be.
"i...see," the teacher says hesitantly, eyeing your boyfriend with obvious unease. after a moment, she regains her composure and refocuses on you completely. "is there anything you wish to discuss before we begin?"
"not for me, no."
"when can we get him bumped up a grade? or have him skip one altogether?" every single word that comes from satoru's mouth is a joke but it still has your face burning with embarrassment that you were associated with him. "you know, i skipped a few grades when i was young."
"i can tell," you whisper and he pinches the flesh of your thigh between two fingers in defiance.
"i believe that skipping grades would be unwise at this time, as we haven't done any testing yet-"
"he was kidding, i swear," you say apologetically and, thankfully, the teacher continues as if on a script.
"i see. well, megumi is progressing wonderfully in the class. he's very adept at reading and writing, but he does struggle with math sometimes. it's nothing to be worried about; many children struggle with math at his age." you nod in understanding but grimace inwardly. megs always wanted you to help him with math homework since satoru became frustrated with the problems faster than the actual 2nd grader.
"for being the strongest, he's not that smart," megumi stated bluntly one night while you helped him on a coffee table in the teacher's lounge. you'd sent satoru on a walk around campus after his distress was clearly bothering megumi, who ended up suffering more from satoru's "help" than benefiting. "you're not around that much anymore to help me so i don't know what to do." his tiny eyebrows furrow and you reach out to run your fingers through his spiky black hair.
"i'm really sorry i'm not around as much anymore. do you want me to ask nanami? he handles math all the time."
"i think that'd be worse than satoru."
"you can't get much worse than satoru, buddy," you concede and his mouth turns up a little bit. nothing like a little insulting his mentor to get the boy's mood improved. still, his frown returns like it's his default expression.
"what if i can't do it? what if i'm not like everyone else?" it made your chest ache in a different way when megumi or his sister said something like that, like they were well aware that they weren't normal children. your heart panged for them and mourned their loss of a "normal" childhood just because they were born into a big three clan. it wasn't fair and it was something you lamented to satoru almost every week. you couldn't tell the boy any of that, though, no matter how much you wanted to explain why he wasn't like the rest of the kids in his class.
"just try your best, okay? sometimes, that's all we can do. you're already doing great by asking for help. it's not your fault if someone doesn't know how to help you, so just keep trying." he nodded determinedly; after another hour past dinnertime, you finally finished walking him through the rest of the problems while satoru draped his lanky body over the couch behind you, watching defeatedly over your shoulder.
"is there anything we can do to help him with math?" you ask, unconsciously weaving your fingers with satoru's and giving it a light squeeze. he squeezes back three times. i-love-you.
"he just needs a little reassurance that he's on the right track sometimes."
"mmm, don't we all," you murmur and you don't expect the teacher to laugh softly under her breath, muttering her agreement. before you know it, you've organized megumi's papers into his folder and picked him up from the playground outside his classroom, taking his hand as you walk back to the car.
"your teacher says you're doing well in class."
"really?"
"mhmm, though i didn't need her to tell me that since i already know." you shoot him a small smile, leaning into satoru's body as his arm wraps around your torso. "you, however, need to learn some manners," you lightheartedly tease, knocking your elbow against his abs. "you were not helping in there, you menace."
"it was boring, what do you want me to do?" his tone is so carefree, so comfortingly satoru it made your heart melt.
"it's a parent-teacher conference, not parents. you could have waited outside if you were so bored. went to play on the playground or something." his head dips close to your ear and you feel some strands of his hair brush against your skin.
"but then i don't get to watch you be all mature and put-together."
"trying to follow my example?"
"trying to break your composure," he corrects with a sly grin. "i'm the fun one, after all."
"that's one way to put it," megumi deadpans without hesitation and you stifle a snort.
"i'm one of a kind!"
"you're out of your mind, is what you are." before he can protest, you press a kiss to his cheek and he turns a slightly opaquer shade of pink. "but i wouldn't have you any other way."
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navybrat817 · 4 months
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Indulgence
Pairing: Dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub!Female Reader Summary: When Bucky calls, you go to him. Word Count: Over 5.7k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, D/s elements, bondage, aftercare, established arrangement, insecurities, pet names, longing, possessive behavior, world building, mix of canon and non-canon, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I'm very excited for this new AU, lovelies! There's a deep bond between these two, but we know the road to love isn't always easy. ❤️Beta read by the amazing @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. And thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer for listening to me ramble about this part. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You had only been asleep for an hour when your phone went off, your eyes barely open as you reached for the device and saw the familiar name appear. “Bucky?” You answered drowsily.
“Hey, angel,” he said roughly, the pet name bringing a sleepy smile to your face. It sounded like he hadn't gotten much sleep either. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“It’s okay. I have tomorrow off,” you said, a bit more alert as you sat up. “Are you at your apartment?”
“Yeah, I got back a bit ago,” he replied, swearing under his breath. “It’s really late. I just…”
“Need me,” you finished for him, stretching your back as you stood up. If he wanted to tell you he made it home safely from his latest assignment, he would've sent you a text. You knew by now that a call meant he had to see you in person. “Give me a few minutes?”
“You sure? I understand if you’d rather go back to bed.”
“I’m not going to get any sleep until I know you will, too,” you said. It would drive you crazy. “I want to come over. Okay?”
You wondered if the call dropped since you didn't hear anything on the other end. “Okay. I’ll send a car,” he said. He never let you pay for a ride yourself. “Thank you,” he added so softly you almost missed it.
“You don't need to thank me,” you assured him, though you appreciated hearing it. “I’ll see you soon.”
“I’ll be waiting,” he promised, your heart skipping a beat before he hung up.
You brushed your teeth again before you changed out of your pajamas. The outfit didn't exactly matter. If it had, he would’ve told you what you wear. It wouldn't stay on long anyway. You sensed that this was a night for him to simply blow off some steam or release anything still pent up from his assignment.
You were more than happy to help.
“On my way.” You messaged him a few minutes later as you went out to the car.
You politely greeted the driver before gazing out the window. If anyone had told you months ago that you’d be sleeping with the former Winter Soldier, you would’ve laughed at them for saying something so crazy. You never expected to meet the man, let alone connect with him. That was your life now though. You were sleeping with Bucky Barnes.
But it wasn't that cut and dry.
“I’ll be outside.” He sent back.
You smiled to yourself as you thought about Bucky, the man searching for himself again. After years of enduring horrific pain and having no control over his actions, he felt lost once he was free. In his eyes, he would never be able to right all the wrongs of the atrocities he was forced to commit, but making amends for his past was a start. It wasn't enough though to heal the cracks from within. It couldn't stop him from plunging into the deep abyss of his mind where it once felt whole.
He had to find a way to feel semi-normal again. He needed to do something good for someone else outside of his heroic duties. And he had to do so in an environment where he could express himself openly, honestly, and authentically with a person he could trust.
That was where you came into the picture.
If Bucky called, no matter what time of day and you were available, you went to his place in a car he paid for. You stayed until you were both satisfied. A more crude way to think of it was that you helped him fuck out his frustrations and gave him a means to inflict pleasure on someone instead of hurt. It was a routine you were used to by now.
“You wanna be my angel?”
You may be his angel, but you weren't his girlfriend. He wasn't in a place to have a typical relationship. You weren't just a fuck buddy either. You were his submissive of sorts, along with his confidant and a way for him to find release and some sense of normalcy.
While he sometimes fucked you like a whore, he never once treated you like one. He cared for your well-being and checked in on you the way a boyfriend would. He kept his place stocked with your favorite snacks. You didn't sleep with anyone else and neither did he. You looked out for each other.
Unlike your last boyfriend.
As far as arrangements went, you could do much worse. There were rules set in place. Bucky was honest about his needs and helped you heal your wounds from the failure of your previous relationship. But the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to be with him.
Was it a recipe for disaster?
The drive seemed faster than usual because before you knew it the car stopped in front of Bucky’s apartment building. Your pulse quickened when you saw the brunette standing by the door, donned in his usual leather jacket. Even from a short distance, he looked massive and heat bloomed in your core as you knew what was to come. He moved to the curb with more grace than a man his size should have, his hard blue eyes set on you through the glass before he opened the door.
His gaze practically set your heart on fire and it went full ablaze when he tenderly smiled. He was stunningly beautiful even in the dark of night. It almost hurt to look back at him.
You had it bad.
“Hey,” he said, offering you his gloved hand to help you out. You hardly ever saw him out without his vibranium hand covered. “It’s good to see you.”
“Hey,” you smiled softly, giving the driver a quick thanks before you got out. “You, too.”
Bucky's large hand moved to the small of your back as he gently led you toward the building and opened the door. He didn't like to linger outside for too long. Neither of you spoke as he guided you to his apartment on the first floor and you didn't push him to make small talk. It was a delicate arrangement and some nights didn't call for filler.
Still, you tried to get a read on his emotions. There was a stiffness to his stance, but he didn't appear upset or angry. You also didn’t spot any obvious injuries.
“Were you hurt?” You asked as he took his keys out. He was only gone for a couple of days, but you knew how dangerous the missions were.
He turned and stared at you, not at all surprised by your question since you always asked. “No, I didn’t get hurt,” he assured you, reaching up to scratch at the stubble on his chin. “But I can't exactly talk about it either. I’m sorry.”
You nodded in understanding. It was information you weren't privy to and you doubted he called tonight to talk about it anyway. He peeled back layers of himself, yet there was so much underneath that you didn't know about. You cared for him regardless.
“Bucky, you don't have to apologize for that,” you reminded him.
“I just feel bad. You can tell me about your work, but I can't always talk about mine,” he said, looking both ways before he poked his head into his apartment.
“My job isn’t as ‘exciting’ as yours,” you teased before he let you in.
Bucky had a nice place. The partially exposed brick walls paired well with the hardwood floors. Tasteful, but not extravagant. The thick curtains in the living room matched the drapes in his bedroom. Since he occasionally slept on the floor by the oversized chair, it helped to block out the sun. He didn't have much as far as decor, but he did have a piece of art that his best friend, Steve, drew hung up in the hall.
He also had a bowl that you made on the console to hold his keys, which he promptly set them in.
It meant something that he even let you into his apartment when others close to him had never been invited.
“Need anything to drink?” He asked, slipping his jacket and glove off.
He had an empty glass waiting on the kitchen island in case you did. While you indulged in a drink now and then, he wouldn't allow you to have too many. He refused to have sex with you if you were inebriated. Said it took consent away and you wouldn't be alert enough to use a safeword if necessary.
He wouldn't budge on that rule.
“No, thanks,” you answered, gazing at him.
His T-shirt strained against his biceps, one flesh and one vibranium. You could still smell his cologne from the small distance across the room, amber and cedarwood. Warm, comforting, dominating. All the things he was to you.
Not the monster he sometimes believed himself to be.
You eyed him as he poured himself a shot of whiskey, the need to soothe him coming forward when you caught a distant look in his eyes. He didn't even make a move to down his drink as he set his hands on the counter and stared off. Maybe he couldn't give you the details about what happened, but you could take care of him.
Because as much as he sometimes had to have control over you, both of you had power in your relationship.
“Bucky?” You gently called out, pulling him from his trance. “You can talk to me, even if you have to keep some things to yourself.”
His shoulders dropped as he sighed. “Three months.”
“I'm sorry?”
“Three months since we started this,” he answered.
You realized he was right when you remembered the date. It felt longer yet still brand new. “Yeah. Three great months,” you smiled.
A knot formed in your stomach when he didn't smile back. “And you still feel safe with me?” He asked, gripping the counter so hard you thought it might crumble in his hands. “You really trust that I won’t hurt you?”
Your smile slipped, the questions like a punch to the gut as you walked toward him. You stopped a foot in front of him to give him some breathing room as he made eye contact. Where had that come from? What happened to make him question that?
“Of course, I feel safe. Not only do I feel safe with you and trust you, I know that you won't hurt me. You will always take care of me,” you said with fierce determination, yet with a vulnerability you couldn't hide. “If I didn't believe that, I wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t submit to you.”
You told him the same thing the day you two agreed on this arrangement. He wasn't your boyfriend, but he wasn't like your ex. He wouldn't just throw you away without a second thought or ignore your needs. You also had faith in him that he wouldn't harm you.
And as much as you trusted him, he trusted you that much more. If he didn't, he wouldn't have called you in the first place. That meant he still trusted himself around you.
He looked away and asked above a whisper, “Do you still think I'm a good man?”
“Yes,” you replied without hesitation, your heart aching when his jaw clenched. “Bucky, look at me, please.”
He slowly made eye contact with you, a storm swirling in his stare.
“You are a good man,” you stated, needing to reach the part of him that believed it. “And it doesn't matter how many times you ask me that, my answer isn't going to change. Ever.”
Bucky was silent, his breathing the only sound in the space. You were worried that you said the wrong thing before he pushed himself away from the counter. Instead of moving back when he approached, you stood firm, ready to brace the storm. You sometimes felt like a mouse confronted by a lion when he got close, but it sent a thrill through you. Because you meant what you said.
You trusted him and he made you feel safe.
“I just had to hear you say it,” he whispered as he cupped your face.
A fire lit within you as Bucky captured your mouth with his. There was care and tenderness beneath the hunger and you found yourself clinging to his arms as you kissed him back. No one before him had ever kissed you with such desire, such passion. It had you chasing his lips when he pulled away too soon.
“Now go to my room, get undressed, and kneel on the bed facing the headboard,” he ordered, his voice low and allowing the words to sink in just in case you had any objections. Because he was done talking and ready to play.
So were you.
It took you a moment to answer since you had to bite back a whine. “Yes, Sir,” you whispered, feeling his eyes on you as you walked to his bedroom.
You focused on keeping your breathing even as you shed your clothes, taking a moment to fold them before you set them on the chair in the corner. The only time you left your garments on the floor was if Bucky put them there or had you put on a show for him. It was his space and you respected it.
He hadn't told you how long to wait for him, but your heart thumped as you knelt on the queen sized bed. You didn’t see any toys as you glanced around, but there was water, snacks, wipes, and the soft blanket you loved waiting on the nightstand. It took a moment for you to spot that there was a blindfold and scarf on top of the blanket. Your womb clenched in anticipation, an exquisite feeling knowing your patience and obedience would reward you.
Bucky walked through the door a minute later and shut it behind him. The energy shifted completely, both of you ready for each other. As much as you wanted to lift your gaze and look behind you, you kept your eyes downcast as he approached the bed. He cupped your cheek once he was close enough and forced your eyes to meet his.
“My beautiful angel,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along your skin as you glowed from the praise. He reached for the scarf and ran his fingers across the silk as he glanced at you. “As much as I hate to cover those beautiful eyes of yours and restrain you, I want you to concentrate on my touch tonight. Just let me have you.”
A shiver rolled down your spine as you nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“Hands behind your back,” he said, moving to secure them once you did so. The silk was soft against your skin, almost as soft as the kiss to your shoulder. After years of being restrained, you knew he felt guilty at times taking your control away. The difference was you gave yourself to him willingly. “Tell me your safewords.”
“Green is good. Yellow to pause,” you stated, testing the scarf. He never bound you too tight, but it was enough that you couldn’t slip your wrists free. “Red to stop."
“Good girl,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You turned your head a fraction so he could slot his lips properly over yours. Gentle, yet hot enough to melt your insides. “My good girl.”
He maneuvered you so you were in the middle of the bed and spread your knees a bit further apart. He joined you on his knees, still fully clothed. Casting your gaze down again, you bit your lip when you saw the prominent bulge in his pants. A hand came up to grasp your chin before you could stare for too long and lifted your head. If you were still wearing your panties, they would’ve dampened from his darkened gaze.
“So beautiful and all mine tonight,” he said.
“I’m yours, Sir,” you whispered, the word “always” unspoken.
“And I know you were staring,” he smirked, his fingers working the button and zipper of his jeans. His impressive cock sprang free once he pushed his underwear and pants down far enough and you wished you could lean down and swirl your tongue around the large head. “Greedy angel. Just desperate to have my cock in you.”
“Yes, Sir. Please,” you begged.
He made a show of lifting the blindfold before he slipped it over your head, your body tensing up when your world went dark. Sight was one of the senses you relied on the most. It helped you absorb most of the world around you. And now it was temporarily gone. It felt like your heart would burst from your chest as you breathed a bit heavier. But Bucky was there, softly touching your face until you relaxed.
“Breathe, angel. I’ve got you,” he whispered, drawing a gasp from you when his lips touched yours. His hands mapped your body, brushing along your breasts down to your thighs. You felt him everywhere. “Color?”
“Green,” you whispered as a hand moved around your back and forced you to arch. He was careful not to hurt your arms. “Please.”
Your head fell back with a moan as his lips closed around your nipple. You could practically feel that he looked up at you as he gently suckled. A wave of arousal crashed through you as he pinched the other. No one had ever lavished your body with such attention the way Bucky did.
“I love seeing you like this,” he murmured against the swell of your breast. “Helpless. Trembling. Needy.”
You didn't mean to let such a wanton moan escape, but he made you feel needed. He made you feel wanted. It was a beautiful thing to surrender to him.
“And I love that I'm the one you trust to take care of you.”
“I trust you with my life, Sir,” you moaned.
And your heart, even though he had the power to break it.
Your chest suddenly felt colder when Bucky pulled his mouth and hand away and you shook from the loss of his heat. His vibranium hand touched your torso to remind you he was close when he shifted closer to you on the bed. You gasped when he dragged his hand down and you were helpless to do anything but feel when it slid between your legs.
“You're doing so well for me,” he said, his teeth grazing your neck as his fingers spread your sopping folds. He teased you, letting you soak his metal fingers as you mewled. He lightly bit you again when he replaced his fingers with his cock, sliding along your slit, but not pushing inside you just yet. “You want me inside you? You need me to fuck you, don't you? Tell me.”
Your cheeks flamed as you whined. “I need you to fuck me, Sir,” you said, trying to widen your thighs to take him in more.
“I will. I'm going to give you everything you need,” he rumbled, gripping your hips with strong and capable hands to keep you still. “And you’re going to let me ruin your pretty little pussy with my cock.”
You panted with want at his possessiveness. Filthy words were something you never thought you’d hear from someone associated with The Avengers and they kicked your body into overdrive. You ached to have him split you open. “Ruin me, Sir.”
In one swift move he lifted you, pulled you into his lap, and buried himself to the hilt. Your mouth fell open as you let out a cry, every inch of his cock stretching and making itself at home in your welcoming cunt. You couldn't brace yourself on his shoulders with your hands behind your back. You couldn't see the ecstasy in his eyes as he let you adjust to his size, but you didn't have to. Not with the way he dug his fingers in and groaned against your shoulder.
He took you to heaven when he was inside you.
“Color,” he said against your skin, thrusting his hips up once.
“Green,” you moaned, reminding yourself to stay still when you wanted him to move. “So green.”
“Good girl,” he whispered, gently kissing up to your ear. “Keep being good while I bounce you up and down on my cock.”
Your eyes fluttered behind the blindfold as he pulled you up and slammed you back down on his cock. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and your heart beat frantically in your chest. It was difficult to string thoughts together, but they all went back to him and how good he made you feel. How he made you feel beautiful.
Flaws and all.
“It’s like your cunt was made for me, angel. Practically crying all over my cock,” his voice was smoky as sounds of pleasure tumbling from your lips. The next moan was softer when he slid a hand up to your neck, resting it there as the other kept your hips flush against his. “You deserve to feel good because you are good. So fucking good.”
Your lower lip trembled as a sob worked its way to your throat, “Thank you, Sir,” you whimpered before he squeezed.
“And I. Deserve. You.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust. You didn’t have to see his face to know the fury that surfaced. “My angel. Mine.”
It overwhelmed you as he bounced you in his lap, sinking you down onto him again and again. His thrusts were almost unforgiving, but the hand on your throat didn’t tighten anymore. He couldn’t hurt you. He wouldn’t hurt you.
“I’m your angel, Sir,” you moaned as he reduced you to a needy wet mess.
“I wanna tear you apart,” he growled against your lips. “And put you back together so you still feel me when you fucking breathe.”
“Tear me apart, Sir,” you gasped, a plea for him to use you more. Your thighs hit his as he thrust up and all you could do was take it. He touched places inside you no one else could reach, physically and emotionally, and you never wanted it to stop. “Please!”
“Tell me you need me to come inside you and I’ll let you come,” he ordered, the hand on your neck squeezing a fraction. “Say it.”
“Come inside me, Sir,” you begged.
“Bucky,” he breathed against your lips. “Say. My. Name.”
Your next breath was shaky. He always had you call him “Sir” on nights like this. Why was this different?
Your orgasm began to crest, but you couldn’t let go until you gave him what he wanted. And he’d give you what you needed. “Come inside me, Bucky,” you exhaled. “Please.”
He swiped his thumb along your pulse with a deep groan, his cock still driving up into you. “I will after you come,” he promised, his tongue sliding past your parted lips and pulling away all too quickly. “C’mon, angel. Come for me. Show me you’re mine.”
The sob you tampered down earlier resuraced, wrenched from your throat as you came. Your release continued, practically leaking around his cock as tears slid out beneath the blindfold. You were beyond rational thought as pleasure spiraled through you, vaguely aware that he thrust through it to chase his own end.
“Good. Fucking. Girl.” He grunted, pulsing hotly inside you as he filled you up.
Both of you panted as you continued to drift from euphoria, your heart still beating wildly. You were warm, but your body shivered as he lifted you up. Your combined release slid from your aching cunt once he slipped free. You floated and wanted him to catch you, but you couldn’t put your arms around him.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered when you let out a whimper. He made quick work of untying your wrists so he could lay you down properly and wipe away the tears still on your cheeks. “I’m going to take the blindfold off.”
Your eyes stayed shut for a moment when Bucky removed it, but you cracked them open when you wanted to see him. Your vision slowly cleared as you blinked a few times, your mind still floating as he came into view. He called you an angel, but he was the one who had a halo around his head at the moment. A gorgeous angel who had unrightfully had his wings taken away. He smiled like he wanted to eat you alive, but his touch was nothing short of tender when he brought his hand to your face.
“So fucking beautiful. You did so well for me. Fuck, I just wanna clean you with my tongue and fill you up all over again,” he praised as you clenched around nothing and whined. As hot as it sounded, you needed a bit of rest after that. “Not tonight,” he smiled, keeping a hand on you as he grabbed a wipe.
A reason he had everything close by was because you craved his touch after sex. If he ever got too far away, you whimpered and reached for him. It made you feel needy, but he assured you that he needed to keep touching you just as badly.
It just wasn’t fair that he looked so composed.
Bucky continued to shower you with soft praise as he cleaned you up. It didn’t take him long before he wrapped the soft blanket around you, trembles moved through your entire body as he put his arms around you, too. He took aftercare very seriously. It was a way for you to feel cared for and nurtured while allowing your body and brain to return back to normal. He never wanted you to experience negativity or sadness after any sort of session, especially an intense one.
You were aware that he moved you closer in his arms and rested his cheek against the top of your head, but you weren't ready to speak yet. It always took you a minute to come back to yourself and he was never one to rush or push you. If relaxing in his embrace was what it took to return to the world, he was more than content to keep you in his arms.
At least, that was what he told you.
You opened your eyes after a few minutes. Your heartbeat was back to a steady rhythm, but you still weren't ready to move yet. You were warm and safe. Bucky was there to take care of you. But what about him?
Had you taken care of him?
Bucky had a faint smile on his face when you lifted your head, his shoulders relaxed and eyes soft. Like he was at ease with everything around him. “Welcome back, angel,” he whispered, peppering your face with light kisses.
“Hey,” you smiled tiredly, your voice a little hoarse as you brought a hand to his hair, happy that you could touch him again. Judging by the way his eyes slipped shut for a moment before he opened them, he missed your touch, too.
“You okay?”
“I am and so are you. You're okay.” It wasn't a question. Whatever haunted him earlier was gone.
For now.
He didn't tear his gaze away as he reached for the water behind him, which you gratefully accepted as he put it to your lips. “You amaze me, you know? You just came back to yourself, but you're talking about me being okay.”
“Isn’t that why you call me?” You asked with a small frown, taking another large sip. “To help you?”
His brows furrowed. “It’s not just about me. This is about you, too.”
You took one more drink before you could say something stupid. Yes, this was about you, too. How he didn't push too far. How he’d hold you after sex and talk with you because those things were important to you. How he made you feel cherished and wanted for a short while.
You just didn't want to admit that he was a constant in your mind. But would it be so wrong if you did? Even if he’d never date you, didn't he have a right to know how you felt?
Communication was key and you would have to eventually tell him if those feelings persisted.
“It’s about both of us and I just want you to be okay,” is what you said because it was the truth.
He set the water aside and cupped your cheek, his calloused hand a little cool, but nice. You almost wished you could hide from his knowing eyes, but he didn’t press you for more. “I am now,” he said, swallowing a little. “I just couldn't let you see me tonight.”
Worry filled his eyes like he may have upset you, but you shook your head. You had seen his scars, but he was never obligated to show you his body. “You're letting me see you now,” you said, scooting closer as he brought your wrist to his mouth to kiss it.
You thought about how the evening played out. How he asked if you thought he was a good man. How he demanded that you speak his name. And how he said he deserved you. Either something happened while he was gone or someone said or did something to get to him. You wished you knew what it was since he didn’t expand on what had been eating away at him before.
“And before you ask, you didn't hurt me,” you told him, knowing the question was coming. You appreciated that he cared enough to check.
He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Good because I’d never stop hating myself if I did,” he admitted, looking at the ceiling for a moment. “You don't deserve that kind of pain.”
Your heart swelled, not letting any past hurt enter your mind. He made you believe that you deserved better than what you had. It was a good feeling.
“Neither do you. And that's a reason why safewords exist. Both of us can use them,” you reminded him. Like aftercare, he took the words seriously. He listened to you. And if he ever got overwhelmed, he had every right to stop it the same way you did. “So no self-hate tonight.”
He huffed in mock annoyance. “Yes, ma’am. And speaking of self-hate,” he teased, tilting his head to look your way. “I really don’t want to go to therapy tomorrow.”
There was a forced calmness in his blue eyes as you assessed him. “You still don’t like your therapist,” you stated.
One of the conditions of his pardon was that he had to go to therapy. It was meant to help him process his thoughts and past experiences in order to work through them. Though he didn’t tell you what went on in his sessions as it was none of your business, he didn’t keep it a secret from you that the doctor was far from his favorite person.
You wondered if Bucky told her about you.
“What’s there to like?” He asked.
You smiled a little, knowing better than to poke the bear and say she probably wasn't that bad. “Well, being able to speak to someone who provides non-judgemental and empathetic support is one thing.”
“That’s why I like talking to you,” he said, the affection in his voice making your heart skip a beat.
“Oh,” you said, not sure what else to say.
Moments like that made you think he cared. No, that wasn’t right. You knew he cared about you. But hearing things like that made you feel like there was hope for more and he wasn’t ready for that.
Hope was both a wonderful and dangerous thing.
“Have you met anyone else?” He asked suddenly, moving his hand to your back.
It was a question Bucky asked every time he had you over. He said from the start if there was another man in your life that you’d rather be with, someone who could offer you more, he’d step aside. There wasn't anyone else. You didn't want anyone else.
And while it was admirable that he would walk away if that ever changed, your heart ached at the thought that he’d easily let you go. Because at the end of the day he wasn't ready for a relationship. Not yet.
Even if he was, who said he wanted one with you?
“No, I haven't met anyone,” you said, feeling the warm breath of his exhale against your skin as his hand moved up and down your back. It relaxed you more and you found yourself fighting a yawn. “Have you?”
“No,” he chuckled. The crinkles by his eyes made him look carefree. “Not since you saved me.”
You shut your eyes, afraid that tears would well up if you looked at him. “I didn't save you. All I did was buy you a coffee one afternoon,” you whispered dismissively.
That day changed your life.
“I’m going to let that slide since you're sleepy, but I’m going to remind you when you're wide awake that you did a lot more than that,” he spoke. He held you a little tighter when you stayed quiet. You were more tired than you thought. “Get some sleep, angel. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
You let your eyes shut at his command. “Thank you for taking care of me, Bucky.”
“Thank you for taking a chance on me.”
There was something else unspoken in the air, but a tender kiss to your forehead stopped you from reading too deeply into it.
In the morning, he’d send you back to your place after he made you breakfast. He’d text you later to make sure you were okay. He would continue to check in and you would do your best not to fall for him more. Because one day he wouldn't need you anymore. You didn't know when that day would come, but tonight you could indulge in the fantasy that Bucky wanted you to be his girl.
Permanently.
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I just want these two happy and together. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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norrisleclercf1 · 4 months
Note
I saw those pictures of Lando being all smiley while on a gurney at the hospital. I guess some fans were saying he looks high off pain killers lol. Wondering if you could write something where he falls for the nurse or doctor that was taking care of him at the hospital. I love your writing btw! You’re one of my favorite F1 accounts.
A/N: Um yes this one is for my medical girlies
"You're pretty," The boy or man giggles in front of you as the medics wheel him through the hospital halls. "Thank you, but really, you should answer my question. Name?" You repeat again trying to get his A&O down properly.
"Lando Norris, if you want that can be your name too." He giggles again and you just smile politely, used to people flirting with you or making passes. But the slightly older man beside your patient groans. "Lando, stop." He pats the boy's shoulder and mouths I'm sorry.
"Mr. Norris, do you know where you are?" "Vegasssss babbyyyy!" You bite down your lip hard trying to resist the urge to laugh. "And the date or time?" You ask. "It's November the 19th, just had my 24th birthday." He giggles and reaches out for you, but his companion slaps his hand down.
"Jesus, Lando. Sorry, they have him some pain meds for the crash." "The crash? Oh, right sorry you're one of the Formula 1 drivers." You didn't pay much mind to the news, only the increased traffic and the fuss everyone was making about this sport.
"Yeah, he drives for Mclaren. I swear he normally isn't like this. He's goofy sure, but it's the pain meds." You nod, understanding that the lack of sleep along with the crash and the meds has messed him up in some way. "It's okay, he's just here mainly for observation and to make sure his injuries aren't worse." You smile and the guy relaxes as Lando giggles.
"Lando, smile." Lando looks up, hair wild, eyes sunken and smiles this smile that has you staring for a second and look away blushing. Shaking your head you roll him into a private room, as his companion, named Jon asked you. He said some fans get a little, but you waved him off saying you've dealt with some famous people before, it is Vegas.
Smiling you were left in charge of Lando and making sure he didn't fall asleep. Jon was walking in and out, making phone calls and updating the team in his condition. "Any pain?" Lando groans, adjusting himself as the pain meds wore off, a blanket covering his naked chest.
His fireproof shirt, you learned the name was a casualty in making sure he didn't break any bones. "Just achy, um hey," You look up and try to control the blush as he did have pretty eyes. "Sorry about earlier." You smile softly and fix teh blanket tucking it in. "It's okay, it happens." You wave him off and mark his vital signs.
"I'm sure, you're very pretty." You stop writing and look up, his face was serious with a faint smile. "Hey good new, the Doc says we can go." Jon steps into the room and you two break eye contact smiling as you finish up your document.
"It was nice meeting you Mr. Norris, Jon." You leave the room heading to the nurses station and making your rounds on your other patients. "Oh, hey um," You turn seeing Lando as he tries to find your name. "Y/n," You fill in and he laughs, softly smiling. Wearing a much to large jacket and the rest of his race suit hanging off his waist.
"I wanted to ask you, if you'd like to go on a date?" You stop, and see your coworkers giggle and make kissy faces. "Oh, sorry I don't date patients." Lando just smiles and shrugs his shoulders. "Good thing I'm no longer a patient. This is my number. I hope you call." Lando smiles and you.
Watching him walk out of the hospital you smile seeing his scribble and put it in your pocket.
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luveline · 6 months
Note
i lowkey need to see stripper!reader and spencer again
for you gorgeous ♡ fem
cw adult themes
Hotch and Spencer draw attention at the strip club for the same reason but in varied fonts. They're both reminiscent of your regulars, Hotch the picture of a businessman with a wife to forget and steam to blow, and Spencer the silent sweetheart, pretty but too shy to talk to normal girls. 
He doesn't need a normal girl when he has you. 
You're glad for your cover up clothes as you lean against the dressing room door. One of the bouncers peers at you from the corner of his eye. 
"Trouble?" he asks. 
"Not sure. Probably not." You wave until Agent Hotchner notices you. To your delight, he raises his hand politely. 
You step around the bouncer and bypass the stage to the lighter area of the club where they stand in wait. "Hello. I could've met you outside." 
"Would you?" Agent Hotchner asks. 
You don't need him to explain. It's not the most professional thing, loitering in a club like this. You follow them out of the club and onto the street, cold even in your sweatpants as the wind rails. Spencer lets you squeeze his fingers in greeting, but that's all. 
"It's nice to see you again, Agent Hotchner," you say honestly, giving him a smile. 
He doesn't return the pleasantry, but Spencer swears he's softer than he looks so you choose to run with it as Agent Hotchner says, "We need information on one of your patrons." 
"Tennis Lawley," Spencer adds. 
"Tennis," you repeat. "I thought my pseudonym was bad."
Spencer gives you a quick look. I'd laugh if I weren't at work, it says. "We think he's involved in a string of killings in Washington DC. What do you know about him?" 
It's not an exaggeration to say you've played therapist for Tennis and a ton of guys just like him. Being a stripper, an exotic dancer, whatever anyone wants to call it (though Spencer usually just calls it your work) has pros and cons. You've felt it to be heavier on the con side, but this is a big plus, being able to assist someone you care about with something important. It makes you feel useful for once, like you're more than the froth of the city. "Ask me anything," you say, hiding your cheek from the cold with a deft hand. 
Spencer and Agent Hotchner ask you all sorts of questions, personal to their suspect and less so, and for the most part you're able to answer them. You can tell from the look on Hotchner's face that he's both surprised and extremely satisfied by your knowing, and he emphasises his thankfulness with a touch to your upper arm before he says goodbye. "Your help is invaluable, Y/N, thank you." 
Spencer, your sweetheart, stays for a more thorough farewell. 
"Have you eaten yet today?" he asks, the hand you'd squeezed earlier leaping for yours. "You look tired." 
"It's getting close to midnight, Spence. I'm alright. You and Agent Hotchner should head home and rest yourselves…" You bring your hand to his cheek but think better of yourself, pushing your arm over his shoulder instead for a hug. His own arms contract around you immediately. "I miss you lately, where have you been?" 
"Everywhere. I miss you too," he says. Despite the months of knowing one another, and the many states he's seen you in, you know without looking that Spencer is blushing profusely. 
You kiss his cheek as your heels return to safe ground. "Come and see me again soon, okay? And bring your rich friends. The older one, Rossi, is he really a millionaire? A divorced one?" 
"Yes, he is," Spencer says with a laugh, his voice climbing higher, "but I don't think he's looking for another wife right now, sorry." 
"Maybe Agent Hotchner–" 
"Stop calling him that." 
You look Spencer straight in the eye, nearly caught off guard by how sweet and soft they meld at your touch where your hands linger in his. 
You often think that you and Spencer aren't meant to be. Your life, whether willing or unwilling, by choice or design, is entirely focused around your body, and Spencer's world revolves around his mind. You know that what you do for work isn't anything to be ashamed of, but you have the same doubts as anyone else. You know what people think of you. You wouldn't blame Spencer for thinking the same things. And you wouldn't expect him to want to be with you in any aspect that wasn't physical. 
But when he holds your hands in his like this, as though they're made of something delicate, something he wants to map every detail or by fingertip alone, you wish things were different. 
You clear your throat. "I really do miss you when you're away," you confess. 
"I'm sorry." 
"Don't be." Your hands miss his the millisecond you pull them away. "I guess I shouldn't keep you. Your boss will be wondering where you are." 
"Are you okay?" 
You can't even pretend it's a strange question; you're acting strange. "I'm fine, Dr. Reid. My nice new boss knows I know the feds, and all the girls are jealous of me when you guys come to visit. They think I'm on your payroll." 
Spencer quirks a puzzled frown, brows pulled together tightly. "You're harder to read than most people. Have I ever told you that?" 
"I guess it's 'cos I spend so much time pretending I'm a different person," you say, smiling to prompt him into smiling back. 
"Maybe." He pulls his bag from where it rests against his hip and opens it, rummaging through the contents with a confused murmur until he pulls out the shape he'd been looking for. "Here. Don't go to bed hungry, okay?" 
Spencer puts a protein bar in your hand. 
He steals a quick hug and leaves not long after that, crossing the dark parking lot to the mass of the dark SUV he arrives in. With one hand, you clutch the protein bar until it takes a new shape, and with the other you blow two sweet kisses, a cheesy, gaudy gesture that never fails to make your favourite special Agent blush. 
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c0eu4 · 3 months
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OP81 | Valentine's Day evening
Summary: McLaren had the wonderful idea of revealing the new car on Valentine's Day evening..
Warning: a lot of teasing, blowjob but not that much described.
A/N: I'm not going to say that I'm back because it would be a lie. I know it's a bit random after not posting for more than one month. Take care of yourself 🫶🏻
MASTERLIST request are close
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She climbs on his lap, straddling him. He lifted her dress up, rubbing his hands against her hips. She rubs herself against the prominent bulge on his pants, his fingers digging in her hips through her dress. As they were about to go further, Oscar's phone rang. He ignores it, turning it in silent mode. But his phone vibrates again.
He sighed, picking up the phone. She mutters an incomprehensible swear and Oscar gently pats her thigh, as if to remind her to be polite.
''Lando what do you want?'' His voice doesn't let anything show, so she moves her hips a little to make him react. He bites his bottom lip and closes his eyes, trying not to moan into the phone. She doesn't hear what the British is saying but it seems like he's annoying Oscar.
''Yeah yeah we'll be there in 10.'' He said, annoyed. ''Yes Lando!'' He hung up like that, Lando visibly irritated him. She tries to move her hips again, but Oscar puts his hand on her hips, stopping her.
''We have to go.'' He took her off of him, pulling down her dress. ''But I thought we had time ?'' She follows Oscar like a poor puppy who nobody wants to play with. He put on his coat and handed hers to her. ''Lando wants us to be here earlier.'' She puts on her coat. ''And you're listening to him?'' She takes her purse, checking that there is everything she needs inside.
''Boss order.'' He opens the door to her, following her outside and locks the door behind him. The cold of winter makes him shiver. He doesn't understand how she manages to be in a dress in the middle of February.
He runs towards her, putting his hand on her lower back. He opens for her the door of the car and closes it behind her. He sits next to her, behind the wheel and starts the engine. He started to drive, with both of his hands on the steering wheel because of the people everywhere in the city.
They finally arrive at the highway, allowing him to place his hand on her thigh. He caresses her thigh tenderly, his fingers drawing random patterns.
Eventually, they arrive at their destination, already surrounded by journalists around the car. Oscar comes out first, his hand leaving her thigh against his will. Journalists are already taking photos of him but he doesn't take the time to pose, preferring to go and open his beloved's door. He holds out his hand to her, she grabs it and easily gets out of the car. He closes the door behind her, his hand in hers.
She's not really used to McLaren events and all this makes her uncomfortable. He's used to it now. But it still makes him uncomfortable too.
Oscar dragged her towards the red carpet. They can't avoid it. Even if they would love. Eventually, they can breathe a little easier after the red carpet, the journalists cannot follow them.
But the people in the private room don't ease their tension completely. They look for their seat, find it quickly and place their stuff in front of their name label.
Hopefully for Oscar, he's next to Lando. Y/n, her, she's next to someone unknown. It promises a wonderful night.
''Oscaaar, my dear friend!'' Lando knows how to be unnoticed. ''I thought you'll never come.'' They sit down, waiting for the event to start.
What a long night for y/n and Oscar. The person next to y/n is so boring. She keeps talking, without letting time for her to answer. Oscar sees that she's starting to be annoyed and tries to help her by teasing her.
He rubs her thigh, going higher than normal. His fingertips wander throughout her inner thigh, sending shivers down her spine.
''Are you cold? Because if you are, Did you know that if two people are naked against each other, it's very hot?'' Y/n don't take the time to listen to her, trying to focus on not moaning.
She bites hardly her lower lips when Oscar talks to her ear. ''Wanna go to the bathroom, mh?'' Y/n stands up abruptly, heading towards the bathroom through the crowd. Oscar follows her closely, managing to grab her hand.
She locked them in a bathroom, Oscar pressing her against the wall in front of the door. He nibbles her neck, making her moan.
''You're so neddy.. my poor pretty girl..'' He bit down her collarbone, leaving a few red marks. Her hands tug at his suit and his hair, like she wants to be even more connected to him. The friction of his bulge in his pants against the crook of her legs drives her crazy, but she restrains herself from moaning too loudly.
He slams his lips against hers, their teeth collide. They laugh softly before Oscar kisses her again. His hands caress her body in every corner, making her feel good, ''Oscah, you're gonna kill me.'' She whispered to him, her voice as soft as music.
He sucked the skin of her neck, not worrying about the fact that it leaves reddish marks there. She lets it happen, tilting her head to the side to give him more space.
Suddenly, she grabs his hips and makes him turn around, pinning him against the wall. She tries to grin herself against him but she's too small to feel his now hard length against her needy pussy. She hastily undoes his tie and opens the first buttons of his shirt to bite his neck as if she hadn't eaten for several months.
He moaned loudly as she kissed that spot under his ear that he loves so much, his hands gripping hardly her hips, almost leaving bruises. She grabs his cock and kneads it through his pants, making him roll his eyes back, his mouth wide open in a 'o'.
''Y-Y/n! s-stop!'' He moaned in a high pitched voice, ''I'm gonna c-cum in my pants.'' He said, almost crying from holding back his climax.
She quickly gets on her knees, undoing his belt hastily and pulling down his pant and boxer at his middle thighs. She doesn't wait even more to take him in her mouth and in less than two minutes, his eyes roll back once more, his hot and thick seed filling her mouth.
She quickly cleans him with her tongue and lets him get dressed. He kissed her one last time, almost tasting himself on her lips.
They face the mirror, and that's when they realize they shouldn't have.
Y/n's makeup is ruined by the blowjob she just gave. Her hair is a mess, red marks all over her neck and her lipstick all over her mouth. As for Oscar, it's not any better. Her shirt is all wrinkled, lipstick marks all over his face and neck.
''I'm gonna kill you.'' The young man said as he started to panic, already thinking about all the scandal there is going to be. However, Y/n laughs at the situation.
''I have makeup in my bag.'' She looks at her man as she reaches her hand up and tries to arrange his hair.
''But your bag is at the table, isn't it?'' She nodded slowly and started to think of a solution. ''You have your phone?'' He takes it out of his pocket. ''Call Lando then.''
Oscar shakes his head as a no. ''No way he sees us like that.'' She giggles at his reaction. ''Oh c'mon babe. You prefer all the photographers to take pictures of us like that?'' The man sighed and eventually called Lando, who joined them with the bag of Y/n without asking questions. He knocks on the bathroom door and Oscar opens it for him and locks it right away.
''You save me from that girl, she can't stop talking I swear.. What you both were doi-'' He doesn't even finish his sentence as he burst in laugh, seeing Oscar looking at the floor and playing nervously with his hand. Y/n, her, grab the bag from Lando's hand, rummage throughout it and take out some makeup.
''Osc, come here.'' She ignores Lando's child attitude as he has a hard time to calm down. ''You both are that needy?'' He asked between laughs. Oscar approached the young lady and she started to apply a yellow base on all the red marks on his neck.
''wow, she literally ate your neck, mate.'' The British boy said as he looked at his teammate's neck. ''Shut up.'' Answered Oscar, his face red from embarrassment.
Y/n keep covering Oscar's neck, until all the red marks aren't visible anymore. She does the same on her neck while her boyfriend fixes his clothes and his tie. She also fixed her make up and her lips until both of them were like before.
''I can't see nothing.'' Said Lando as he observed their neck attentively. ''You're a pro of makeup Y/n.'' Joked Lando. ''I just have the habit with him.'' She teased him as his cheeks got back to red.
''C'mon Oscah, I know you're not that shy.'' Lando gently hit his shoulder as he opened the door for them to get out.
The three of them go back to their table, where they refound that one lady who's already annoying Y/n again...
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Text
Danny died young. That wasn't what made him powerful. No, but it was part of it. His obsession was Protection due to that being one of the only forms of love he ever received. His parents swearing to protect him from monsters that they never found and his sister protecting him from his parents more...extreme actions.
He died at 6 and if there was one lesson he had learned from his short life, it was that to love was to protect and to be loved is to be protected.
So Danny, ever the explorer, had spent another 6 years after death wandering around the zone and saving people. One day he slipped out of the Infinite Realms and into a new reality but he didn't expect to see a kid around his own age dressed in black and red.
The kid jumped from rooftop to rooftop, doing flips and handsprings with a small smile on his face. Danny stared at him wide eyed while standing frozen on the ground like an idiot. Just like that, Danny developed his first crush.
Following behind the kid was a large man in a gray and black outfit. Supervillian? He watched as this guy jumped from rooftop to rooftop running after the kid.
Danny almost blasted the guy right then and there if it wasn't for the kid turning around and talking to him. Eavesdropping wasn't exactly polite but Danny needed to know if he needed to rescue his crush this kid. Luckly it didn't come to that as "Batman and Robin" discussed a case and left.
Later, back in the IR, Danny was caught by Kitty while he was picking flowers. Upon asking what he was doing he stated the obvious. This of course, led to Kitty following Danny back to Gotham and getting front roy seats to Phantom popping his head up from the rooftop while Robin was running and startling him.
Robin got into his battle stance alongside Batman, all the while Danny didn't ride up from the roof any farther than his shoulders. Danny was too nervous to say anything and just blushed before he chucked the bouquet at Robins feet and bolted.
Robin jumped back, fully expecting the object the kid threw to be a weapon or explosive of some kind. Even after realizing they were flowers and the other kid was gone they still suspected it might be a trap.
Eventually they brought the glowing flowers to the batcave where they were examined. Alfred took the liberty of putting the ones that weren't being examined in a vase.
"I don't get it. Was he trying to send a message? I don't even recognize any of these flowers, what was he trying to tell us?"
"If I may, Master Tim." Alfred interrupted the boy, "Is it possible he gave you flowers for another reason? One more...mundane?"
------
Aka Danny gets a big ole crush on BTAS Tim and the other ghosts coo at Danny for "baby's first crush"
The bats are never normal so they're absolutely convinced Phantom is up to no good
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kimsmuse · 10 months
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yandere rich kid !!
not really a kid, just a spoiled brat.
gender neutral!reader, obsessive behaviour, blackmailing, mentions of drunk driving, implications of sex but no real smut TT. if you want to talk about yanderes my inbox is always open <33
i was thinking about mingi of ateez when i wrote it so you can imagine him as the faceclaim (v v optional)
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very rough idea but !! yandere nepo kid who is The Wild Kid, he’s his parents' and siblings' worst nightmare, partying like its his last night, hooking up right and left.
just imagine like early 2010s justin bieber but, um, no hate to him, but better.
this guy isn't evil or cruel or anything, he's just numb, and he's doing every possible thing that comes his way to just feel something, anything he can.
drugs? nothing. alcohol? nothing. nothing makes him feel like the people he sees in the movies, he tries talking to so many people, sleeps with them, but he can't feel it.
and it becomes increasingly uncomfortable for him inside his own body, he's aware of the things that are happening, his parents being disappointed, threatening to write him off their will but he can't seem to stop himself.
club after club, every bouncer knows him, the bartenders know his order, accurate down to the T because they know what's going to happen if they don't.
and enter you. okay, okay, this seems wattpad-ish but its not like love at first sight or anything. because when you and your friends sneak in to the vip section, the least of your worries is the nepo guy.
your friends seem to have an instant attraction to him, thanks to his entertainment news headlines. "famous business tycoon's son gone wild!" and what not. who doesn't want their name attached to a guy like that? everybody who doesn't have an ounce of rationality in their brain!
but he had other plans for tonight, he was spiralling, and it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to sit here normally and pretend his insides weren't burning. why was there no comfort for him?
he dreaded going home and waking up, looking at the clear disappointed looks of his family. he wishes he was different too, he wants to say to them.
the dance floor clears as the night deepens and soon enough your friends have abandoned their idea of getting laid by him, their patience running out as they grab some other people to take home.
you’re trying to get yourself a cab when he brushes past you, looking back briefly to apologise but when he is a bit ahead, he turns back again and offers you a ride, which you politely refuse, “thanks for asking but i’ll get a cab soon enough,”
okay, then he’ll wait with you! he doesn’t have anything better to do and he’d be going against the way his parents raised him (as if he hasn’t done that enough) if he left you out here alone so late.
after about 20 minutes of standing, looking through various taxi apps, you give up and take him up on his offer, and all the while our rich, spoiled yandere is figuring out what he’s feeling, it was out of basic courtesy that he offered you a lift but now that you’re sitting beside him in his car, he feels like he’s breathing in a new kind of air.
and you swear you didn’t mean to, but maybe its your hormones and the disappointment that all your friends got someone they went home with but you didn’t.. so as soon as you’re in the car, you give him The Look. and while normally the guy would just take it to his backseat, something in him stops him. instead he says, “my place isn’t far,” you nod.
when you regain your senses, it’s too late. it’s the next morning. but thankfully, he was the last person to ask you about what you both were after last night, and the last person to want to “see you again,” so you try your best to get dressed as his sleeping form just lies there peacefully. he’s cute, you admit that.
a few days pass by and you’re thankful that this wasn’t like the other times where his photos and the people he was with would be all over social media, so you went on with your life normally, attending classes, studying and all the jazz.
when once out of thr blue, when you’re working the counter at your part-time, he’s there. he gives you a small smile as you become increasingly uncomfortable. “hey,” you greet him awkwardly.
“i wanted to talk to you… about that night,”
and believe it or not but that’s when your entire life changes. the guy who didn’t even know your name was suddenly there asking you for a bit if your time and the manager obviously obliges, is even eager for it, the publicity that it would get the cafè ….
but yeah, as i was saying, he’s going to come up with a “will you date me?” it doesn’t, matter if he doesn’t know your name, he’ll learn, he’ll learn everything about you, he was willing to, didn’t that count? “please, give me a chance, you won’t regret it, i swear.” and you gulp, okay…
and after that, he’s driving you home from work, home from dates he’s taking you out to, and home from even your college which isn’t even a 5 minute walk from your apartment, and although it’s supposed to feel like “dating” you can’t help but feel a little awkward around him, the fact that he was doting on you like no one ever had in your life and seemed to be perfectly fine with whatever you wanted was just a little off putting.
for the yandere, it’s as if he’s been reborn, it’s as if he found a new purpose at life, he’s so overjoyed at the fact that he was looking for a sign and god actually gave it to him. it was you! he felt everything then, he felt heart beating in his chest, he felt the rain on his face, it was everything h ever wanted.
“this is NOT the guy from the headlines, y/n, this is his twin or something,” your friends were collectively shocked.
even the media was. they wrote articles and articles on if this was just a new stunt or has the resident playboy actually settled down? and they were snooping around your life too, and when the guy went to his parents to help stop that, his parents were delighted to hear that their son wasn’t asking for a new car but instead to help protect a person’s privacy?? who was he??
but they helped, obviously. not without a catch though, they hired a private investigatior to spy on you, were you blackmailing their son? who are you? they weren’t opposed to him finding love, they just wanted to make sure he was safe and not being taken advantage of. when you turn up clean and the investigatior lets them know that you aren’t even in a bit of love with him as much he is, his father is scared.
so he hires the same investigator again, it’s safe to say that money the private investigator made on these two tasks was enough to suffice him for the rest of his years.
and his father decides to pay you a visit, “please, this is the first month since he started middle school that i haven’t been spending on people to keep their mouths shut and to not file cases aainst him, you’ve truly changed him,”
you’re a little uncomfortable again, being this person wasn’t someone you wanted to be, jsut be reduced to beng someone who fixed him, he was nice, yes, but you did not want a relationship right now, let alone a serious-committed one.
then the father takes out his trump card, “…i did not want to do this but,”
he knows where your parents live, your siblings’ workplace.
“so, play along, okay?”
and the worst thing is that, you can't even call the police on one of the richest men in your country.
and as if this problem wasn’t enough, it isn’t even been 3 months and your friends have entirely stopped talking to you. why? well, because, you can’t even have a sleepover without that guy calling you every hour, asking if you ate well, are drinking enough water. and you don't blame them, you wouldn't have liekd it if you were in their position as well.
when you try, (keyword, try) to talk to him about it, he gets super sulky… what do you mean you're bothered by being left alone by your friends? you had him… wasn't that enough?
even at your part-time, it was getting uncomfortable, the times he would just sit in the cafè, working (yes, he even agreed to take over his father's company fot you) and while he obviously paid for his drinks, it was just concerning to the people you knew that he was fliterally following you around, that wasn't healthy.
you have an intuition it won't work, but you decide to give it a try anyway. "hey, we need to talk," you text him. and there’s a response in not even seconds, “what’s wrong?”
“just come over,”
you best believe he’s there in not even 10-15 minutes, and he’s panting too. couldn’t even wait for the lift, his precious darling needed him.
“listen.. i,”
“what?”
“i don’t think this is….working out,”
“what?”
“don’t freeak out-“
“freak out? are you kidding? i.. love you, how isn’t this working out?”
“you’re way too controlling,”
“i’m what? do you know how many peole would kill to be in your place, and people who would want their boyfriends to be like me? nd you say i’m ‘too controlling’?”
“it’s…”
“you have no idea how grateful you should be to me,” you’d never seen him so… angry and it was like you could see the comments being true. “he’s so rude, acts so entitled,” being true.
“don’t look at me like that, i tried my best to appeal to you in a way you should have liked,” he hangs his head down.
“now we do things my way,”
kiss your freedom, part-time, college and apartment bye bye, because you won’t need it anyway, you’ll be his spouse, and there’s no bigger qualification than that. you desperately want to work? be his assistant, he’s getting ready to take over the company soon enough. his parents do see it, the things he’s doing but they can’t interefere, at least he’s staying out of the headlines, that’s all that matters.
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9toji · 9 months
Note
Can u do make up seggx please (and with a wholesome aftercare with a lot of apologizing) 😭😭😭 with either toji nanami megumi getooo !!! <33 ty
I really love ur works btw 💗
A UNIQUE FORM OF SORRIES + toji, geto
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tags ; nsfw, mean doms turned soft, they're so sorry for mistreating you, toji's position is mating press, while geto's is missionary, cockwarming (toji), mentions of wanting a child (toji), tons of sweet words thrown and aftercare is sweet, not fuck but making love, sweet kinda segsy time
rina's comments ; OFC ANON <3 thamks so much for the kind words!! i hope u likey likey this!! ill make a part 2 for nanamin and megumin
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toji
he was such a big meanie earlier that day, avoiding you because he was in a pensive mood. almost screamed at you but after seein' you almost cry, he goes soft and he says sorry.. by fucking you
“let me make you feel better, sweet thing.” he groans, his huge figure was hovering over you. cock buried deep, stretching you out with ease as he bottomed out. toji's tongue was lapping up your neck, “ 'm sorry, feels good.. huh?” he chuckles after hearing you whine out, one of his hands was placed under your head so that two of you stared at each other while he pounded into you.
toji rarely treated you with this much softness n care so you buried your head in the crook of his neck, blushing. he notices this and makes you look at him, gentle fingers squeezing your cheeks so you two can maintain eye contact, “wanna see your face when i make ya feel good baby, forgive me, hm?” he coos, smiling at the way you purse your lips, “you know ya love me.”
his thrusts aren't what you're used to, they're slow and sensual, making sure to hit those sweet spots just right that it makes you go dumb and dizzy for him, he cradles you in his arms with care till both of you reach your high, toji doesn't pull out though. he has his dick lay inside you, softening as the base gets coated with your cum.
you giggle into his warm and bear-like embrace, watching him kiss your body all over. from your cheeks to your shoulders, to your wrists and palms. “love all of this, you're the only one f'me.. gonna have my babies soon, don't get so mad baby. still need to marry you and make you have my babies, okay?”
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geto
you two had a major disagreement that lasted weeks, geto avoided you like the plague and gave you the silent treatment. but not until he saw you sobbing, his heart aching for you so he places a warm kiss, that ends up in something more
“missed you baby, there you are.” he breathes, kissing your nose as he thrusts into you. geto's hands were on either side of you, and your legs were dangling off his forearms. geto groans every time you pull on his locks, and he fakes a sad expression when you mumble, “hate you suguru.” “but i love you more.”
your eyes droop and he taps your cheeks, “watch me make love to you baby, see how much i missed lovin' you. so so sorry, what else can i do for my baby, hm?” he asks softly, brushing off the sweaty strands of hair that covered your face. geto definitely felt bad, n you could tell by the way he talks to you.
normally, he would hiss and spit of how much of a whore you were; prompting you to bend over. but now, he was staring into your eyes, nodding everytime you showed signs of pleasure, “like it baby? mm, yeah.”suguru grins, watching you twitch after you reach your high, pulling out and asking politely if you could sit on his lap, rubbing warm circles on your back as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, “i love you, so much. nothin's gonna pull us apart.” suguru swears, kissing your forehead.
he keeps whispering into your ear, making you feel a little sleepy. his eyes soften at the sight and he kisses you once more before he hugs you tight, “love you baby.” he mumbles, falling asleep alongside you.
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kyph3r · 3 months
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NEW WORKOUT PLAN
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trainer!namjoon x fem!reader
in which... your new trainer is hot, you're horny, and it's past closing hours
warnings: pwp, smut, use of the word "slutty", this is rlly short so be ready for a fast pace, im imagining a chubbier reader but the fic is for everyone !!!
an: just a little drabble, i was listening to the college dropout and the new work out plan played, it inspired me ;)
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when your trainer walks in, you swear the world stops for a second
you just joined a new gym, it's marketing said it was rigorous and had the top trainers in the country working to get people in shape. so when a 6'2, bulky, handsome man walks into your assigned training room and says he'll be helping you work out for the next few months with the sweetest smile on his face, should you really be as surprised and horny as you are?
your first day is extremely embarrassing, you swear the universe cursed you to be the most unflexable person on earth. but your trainer, namjoon, says it's all right with a small smile and proceeds to lay you out on the ground and help you stretch. his big arms grab your thighs and pull them back until your knees hit your chest and fuck, you pray to the highest power that you aren't leaking through your tight little leggings.
"you are so tense, is everything alright?" he asks with a concerned look on his face. the hands on your thighs go higher and start gently massaging your calves as an attempt to get you to relax. it does quite the opposite. you can't tell if he's teasing you on purpose or if he is just that oblivious.
"n-no i'm fine namjoon.. i just don't stretch a lot, that's all!" you say with a tremble in your voice, trying to hold back a pleasured moan from the way he's touching you. he lets out a noise of understanding and starts bending you more.
"if that's the case then we should probably spend a lot of time stretching in our first few sessions," he looks down at you and smiles, "i don't want you to accidentally hurt yourself because you haven't stretched." the look on your face after he said that must have been very amusing, because he had to lower his head to let out a chuckle.
namjoon is an excellent trainer. he insists on doing the workouts alongside you "to make it fair" but it honestly just makes things a lot worse. by the end of the workout his voice is breathier, there's a shine of sweat all over him, and the image of a big man dripping sweat and saying your name alongside praises of "keep it up, you're doing so well" leaves you in more of a debauched state than you should be in after a work out.
by the end of the first month you're sore and very sexually frustrated. you've been trying to seduce him in any way possible, wearing the tightest work out gear you own, blinking up at him with eyes that scream "please fuck me!" any time that you can, you really give props to namjoon for being so respectful and proper during your sessions. but every once in a while his polite persona will break and he'll look at you like he wants to devour you right in there in the training room. but it will quickly go back to normal, leaving you a horny mess.
the closest you think you came to him fucking you was the yoga day, you purposely wore shorts that made your ass look amazing. he told you to do the downward dog position and you swear you heard a quiet "fuck" coming from him behind you, quickly covered with a cough. by the end of the session a blush was set high on his cheekbones and the hands around your waist positioned to check your form were gripping firmer.
by the middle of your second month, he finally breaks.
"do you know how much of a tease you've been, huh?" he questions while giving a slap to your ass. he has you pressed against the wall, backside jutting out to flush against his moving hips. his pace is ruthless, one hand holding your own above your head and the other hooking two fingers into your open mouth. "i had to endure your slutty little outfits for all these weeks, shit, take it."
you moan uncontrollably, his thrusts becoming faster as the hand in your mouth snakes down to your core, playing with your clit.
"namjoon! too much, gonna cum," you whine out, grinding your hips back onto his. he gives another slap to your ass and speeds the fingers on your clit and you're cumming, arousal squirting onto his hand and the ground. his groans become louder as he feels the mess you made and angles his head down to suck along the column of your neck.
"fuck, baby, you're so good. so good for me. just let me use you a little longer." his pace slows to shallow thrusts that feel like they hit your guts until he comes with a low moan, filling your insides.
you are both panting, sweat and cum dripping off of each other. he lays his head on your shoulder and slowly pulls out of your cunt.
"so–" he clears his throat, "would you like to go out somewhere?"
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leclercss · 3 months
Text
Paris, je t'aime (Charles Leclerc),
a Tainted Love sequel
Masterlist
plot: it's almost three years since your tumultuous relationships with Lewis and Charles came crashing down. but you find your self in a new city with new beginnings and new ways to fuck up your love life. that's no thanks to a cheeky frenchman who's set you up on a double date with someone oh so familiar.
pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader
warnings: (+18) mentions of smut, cheating and some swearing
authors note: our amours are back. hope you enjoy this sequel featuring our fave Monegasque.
word count: 4.3k
taglist: @toppersjeep @janeholt3, @princess-siba, @nichmeddar
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"Pierre, I just don't get why you can't show me his picture?" you whine, throwing your head back against the sofa. Clearly you need to work on your negotiation (or blackmailing) skills because you've not made a dent in changing Pierre's mind.
"Because, [Y/N], I don't trust you this time. I've seen your love life, if you can even call it that, in the last six months. It's nothing short of embarrassing and from what I've witnessed, I know who the problem is," Pierre retorts.
You snort at Pierre's response. This man doesn't given a fuck and you do your best to not throw a cushion at his face.
"And what do you mean by that?"
"What I mean, [Y/N], is I've seen you make out with random guys in clubs, ugly ones by the way, who you either sleep with or have to spend the rest of the night hiding from. You're also useless when it comes to Tinder. You either fall in love with their pictures, match, have about a two minute conversation with and then ghost them entirely or you spend five minutes analysing everything that is wrong with them."
"That's no true," you growl.
It's Pierre's turn to snort. "Oh, it is! And if you do end up chatting to someone half normal, you just get drunk and show them pictures of your ex husband's dog".
This time you couldn't control yourself and so you launch the cushion at Pierre's head. Your aim clearly needs some work as you miss his head by about half a meter and hit the lamp above his head, causing it to hit against the wall.
"Right, you two! That's enough," you hear a voice yell from the other room. You look over your shoulder and see Pierre's girlfriend, Kika, storm into the living room.
"He started it," you cry out before shooting Pierre some daggers which earns a kick from Pierre.
"I don't care who started it. I care about ending it," Kika growls as she throws herself onto the sofa opposite then one you and Pierre are occupying.
Silence falls onto the living room but only for a few moments before you look at Pierre again, continuing your previous argument. "Pierre, I don't get why you can't just tell me anything about him".
Pierre, aware of the daggers he's receiving from Kika, simply rolls his eyes.
"Ugh, fine! Kika, can you please talk to Pierre?" you plead as you turn your attention to Kika.
She sighs at you, defeated. "I've tried, [Y/N]," she replies. "But Pierre has made some good points".
You narrow your eyes at her, "Traitor."
Pierre can't keep contain himself as he erupts into a fit of laughter. Annoyed, you return the kick that he gave you earlier which results in a loud cry from Pierre.
"Hey! We're the ones trying to help you out here," Pierre laughs as he rubs his shin, tender from your kick.
"I didn't ask for your help," you grunt, throwing you arms across your chest in frustration. You catch Kika in the corner of your eye trying to hold back a smirk.
"Spit it out, Kika!"
Both Pierre and Kika look at each other, exchanging a little chuckle, before you friend gives you a polite reality check.
"Well, we're in Paris, the city of love. And well, your love life since we've met you has been, putting it nicely, tragic. So Pierre and I thought that as your friends in this new city, we would take the trouble out of your hands for you when it comes to love," she politely tells you.
Pierre snorts again, "Nah, Kika. It's called an intervention".
You look around you to find any other cushions you can throw at Pierre but realise that you've thrown all cushions within reaching distance at his head already.
The truth is that, as hurtful as it may be, Pierre and Kika were right. Your love life since moving to Paris ten months ago has been pathetic. In fact, it's been pathetic for the last three years, ever since you had ended both your marriage to Lewis and your relationship with Charles.
Your intention at the time was to only end your relationship with one of them and in your heart and mind, you were going to end your marriage with Lewis. And that was what you did. Despite his last ditch attempts of rekindling your marriage and relationship, you had declined Lewis' offer to leave your life in London behind and join him in New York City.
An offer like that earlier on in your marriage would have been tempting but after yourself and Lewis both agreed to open up your marriage, and before all of the walls came tumbling down, you realised that whenever Lewis was close to losing you he would pull out all of the stops to become the husband you wanted and needed.
He'd done it throughout your relationship. Once Lewis smelt danger or felt vulnerable, he loved bombed you to the point where you fell in love with him all over again. Telling you everything you needed to hear and throwing you grand gestures like a proposal, a new puppy, extravagant gifts, monogamy (looking back, that one was laughable) and finally offering you a new life in the bright lights of New York City. And when he was sure that you wouldn't leave him and were fully committed, he'd go back to the Lewis of old - doing as he pleased without any questions or consequences. That was until Lewis pushed you too far, he'd tested you one too many times during your "open marriage" and pushed you into the arms of another man, Charles.
In a totally unplanned and spontaneous night out, you had met Charles and the two of you had clicked instantly. Charles was the only person that ever led you to doubt your marriage and relationship with Lewis. You developed a relationship which led to you falling in love with one another. It was very real and very serious. He gave you the love and fulfilment you had long yearned for. He was worth leaving your husband for and you were so ready to do that.
That was until Lewis' offer of moving to New York came about. You didn't want to move to New York. It may have been a dream once but not in those circumstances. Not after you'd already taken off your wedding and engagement rings and told your husband you were ready to move on in your life. This was Lewis' next step in life, not yours.
You were free from your marriage and you could continue your relationship with Charles but something weird happened. It all fell apart one night when you went to see Charles at his flat after you had told Lewis that you wouldn't be moving with him. Your intentions were to tell Charles that you were all his and you could finally start to build a real life together.
However, that’s not what happened. You couldn’t get the idea of leaving London with Lewis out of your head. Even in separation the man couldn’t leave you alone. He was in your mind as you spoke to Charles, kissed Charles and even when you made love to Charles that night. Something deep down was telling you that instantly starting a life with Charles just days after separating from your husband of five years wasn’t the right thing for you.
You needed time to mourn your marriage but also to figure out who you really were. You had been in a relationship since you had moved to London at 21 and had never gotten to explore adulthood and your twenties on your own. And just maybe, you needed a little bit of time to be you.
But that’s not how it went down, or how you had tried to communicate it to Charles. After you and Charles had finished having sex, Charles started a conversation about your relationship and mentioned the possibility of moving in together. You guys were in love and it made sense.
But you freaked out, confessing to Charles that Lewis was going to New York and had asked for you to go with him. And when Charles had asked you want you had wanted to do, you froze.
Fuck, why did you have to freeze? You already told Lewis no but why couldn’t you tell Charles that?
You realised over time it was because that you were unable to tell Charles that while you had said no to Lewis, you needed to be on your own for a while. And how could you tell Charles that after he had made love to you and confessed his loved to you once more?
And so when you struggled to find your words, Charles took it as a yes and that in fact you were moving to New York, leaving him behind. You were ending things with him to be with a husband who treated you poorly.
And when you did begin to find your words, Charles didn’t believe you despite the fact that you had already removing your wedding ring. He was fed up. He’d been humiliated by you and Lewis to one too many times and so he asked for you to leave.
You obeyed and left his apartment. Too hurt and stubborn to speak to one another, you both waited for the other to reach out. A text, a call, something to let the other know that this was stupid and you wanted to be together. But that text, call or something never came. And so you and Charles never spoke again.
Not long after you and Charles ended things, a position in work opened up in Singapore. With nothing meaningful thing you to London any more aside from your best friend Whitney, you applied for it. You were successful and so within a few moments you moved to Singapore for two years.
You finally got your new life and spent the last of your twenties in an amazing city. You even had a few casual, no strings attached situationships. But as you turned 30, you began to miss being closer to home and so you moved back to Europe, this time settling in Paris.
You enjoyed the city and while Paris was famed for being romantic and the city of love, your experience so far had been anything but. Which is why you were here now, letting your new friends Pierre and Kika salvage whatever love life they could manage for you.
You had grown close to them over the past few months. You had met Kika in work and over time she took you under her wing. You hadn’t told Pierre and Kika everything though about your life in London. They knew you were divorced from Lewis and that you had an open marriage got wrong but you had never told them about Charles. How could you even begin to explain that you had fallen in love with someone that wasn’t your husband and then, when you finally had the chance to be with him, you chickened?
No, you couldn’t tell them about Charles. It still hurt you when you thought about how things ended between you. With a heavy heart, you still valued your relationship with him and looked back with fond memories. Charles was still very special and important to you. And so, that was one story you wanted to keep close to your heart.
“Can you just give me a name? Not even a name, just the first letter of his name?”
You were back to whining at Pierre and Kika, begging for any details about this mystery guy that they’d set you up on a blind date with. So far, the only details you had gotten out of them was that you were going out with a guy this Friday night.
As Kika went to open her mouth, feeling a little sorry for you, Pierre flashed her a look.
“Kika, don’t! I know what you girls are like. One sniff of a detail about a man and you girls give the FBI a run of their money, Pierre cried. “No, you’re just going to have to shut up and wait until Friday to meet him”.
Finally accepting defeat, you sighed and rested back against the sofa. Pierre wasn’t giving in this time. With last fight in you, you looked over at Pierre and mumbled,
“Did I ever tell you how much I hated you, Pierre?”
“Yes, everyday”.
-
It was finally Friday and you still didn’t have a single detail or idea about the man you were meeting for dinner. For all you knew, he could be Timothée Chalamet. Pierre and Kika had given you nothing.
Despite withholding all information about this guy, the did feel bad for you and so had brought you out for a drink before you date to calm the nerves. Just one drink, Pierre had said, they didn’t need you showing pictures of Roscoe to another innocent soul.
As you sat in a Parisian bar, you began to bounce your legs up and down, anything to calm you while you waited for 8pm to arrive. With a quick look at your phone, you saw that it was only 6:30pm.
Shit!
You were going to need more than one drink if you were going to get through the next ninety minutes. You were halfway through your first Aperol Spritz but you’d need about two more if you were going to be any fun tonight.
“Can you stop bouncing your legs please? It’s incredibly annoying,” Pierre spat.
Kika, being the peace maker gently placed a hand on your knee to prevent you from causing any annoyance or, in the way Pierre was carrying on, preventing you from causing an earthquake.
You loved Pierre, but the two of you behaved like siblings much to Kika’s despair. The two of you constantly bickered and found ways to annoy one another but did deep the two of you were close and had a solid friendship.
“Children, please,” Kika groaned. As she took a quick look at her phone, you took the opportunity to flash Pierre the middle finger.
Another fifteen minutes had passed and you weren’t any less nervous about this date. While you had been on dates before, it was your first blind date. And while you had faith in Pierre and Kika’s taste, you wouldn’t put it past Pierre to drag Quasimodo down from the Notre Dame and bring him to a Parisian restaurant for your date.
Feeling bad that he’d been taunting you for days, Pierre felt like it was time to give you some reassurance.
“I don’t know why you’re so worried, [Y/N]. Despite being a pain in my side, you’re catch. You’re a good looking girl. You’re funny and smart. You’ve lived in four countries, I mean there’s so much to talk about,” Pierre says as he places a second Aperol Spritz in front of you.
You flash him a grateful smile.
“He’s right! You’ve got so much going for you, [Y/N]. Plus your boobs look great in that dress,” Kika added. “And he already things you’re hot”.
Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. “Wait, what? He’s already seen a picture of me”.
Pierre flashes Kika a look of what the fuck did you say that before accepting a small defeat.
“Yes, he’s seen a picture of you. And before you tell me how that’s not fair, he’s not a freak like you two”.
“But Pierre,” you begin but Pierre wags his finger out you.
“No. I’m not hearing it,” Pierre says.
Great, out of the four of you, you’re the most clueless about your date.
“Fine, if you won’t tell me anything about him, can you at least tell me what he said when you showed him a picture about me?”
Exhaling, Pierre nodded. “Sure, he pretty much grabbed my phone out of my hand when I showed him your picture. He seemed pretty into it, wanted to see more photos. Asked how we knew you, wanted to know as much about you as he could.”
“Oh, and you told him everything right?”
Pierre chuckled. “Not everything. Didn’t tell him that you were divorced by 30. I thought that it’d be funny for you to do that on your own”.
You thanked Kika as she hit Pierre for you.
“Sorry. That was harsh. He was interested in what happened in your last relationship though. If it’s any consolation, I’ve had to intervene in his love life too. It’s almost as tragic as yours,” Pierre continued.
You frowned at him. “What do you mean by that?”
“Well,” Pierre hesitated. “He was in a relationship about three years ago. Things were pretty serious but suddenly things changed. There were talking about moving in together but one day, she told him she was thinking about getting back with her ex. They had an argument and didn’t speak after that. The last he heard through a friend was that she had left the country to start a new life.”
A weird feeling of deja vu suddenly hits you. The story sounding very similar to your own. Except that you didn’t get with Lewis. You pause before asking, “Did she get back with the ex?”
“I think so,” Pierre answered. “Either that or she was a snake who used her ex as an excuse to end things with Charles”.
You feel your blood run cold as Pierre accidentally drops the name of your date.
“What did you say his name was?” you ask, making sure you’re not hearing things.
“Merde, I can’t believe I dropped his name at the last hurdle,” Pierre groaned, burying his head in his hands.
You mind was racing a million miles an hour. Surely this was just a coincidence. There was thousands of Charles' in Paris, let alone in France. And what were the odds of Pierre knowing your Charles? And a Charles who had the same break up story as your Charles? No, this couldn’t be it.
“Are you okay, [Y/N]? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Kika asks.
You force a light-hearted laugh before taking a sip of your Aperol Spritz.
“I’m all good, thanks. Just worried that Pierre is going to go into a downward spiral now that his plan of keeping this Charles a secret has failed,” you joked. But deep inside you were freaking out.
What if this was Charles? You weren’t sure if you were ready to see him. Even though it had been three years since things had ended, it still hurt you to think about your relationship. Even three years later, you knew you still loved him. But what about Charles? Did he still love you? Or did he hate you? According to Pierre’s story, he still seemed bitter about this break up with his ex.
“It’s a good thing you don’t have time to go through Instagram and find him then, you’ve got to leave for your date in fifteen minutes,” Pierre reminds you.
Shit.
This was really happening wasn’t it? You were going to see Charles finally after all these years.
Or maybe you were just being dramatic, maybe this was just a weird, fucked up coincidence.
“Whatever you do, [Y/N], just don’t break my Charlie’s heart, eh? He’s had to fuck his way through dozens of women just to get over her,” Pierre teases.
“Pierre,” Kika squeals, “You can’t tell her that before she meets him”.
But Pierre’s comment goes over your head. Charles’ fucking lots of girls was the least of your worries.
-
You’re the first one to arrive and the wait is excruciating. You have a look at your phone 8:03pm.
Fuck, it’s been the longest three minutes of your life.
You’re not sure if you want to look at the entrance and see who walks through the door or if you want to keep your head down and pray for the ground to swallow you whole. Right now, the second option feels preferable.
As another minute passes, your phone lights up. It’s a text from Pierre into your group chat with Kika:
Bonne chance! And if we don’t hear back from you by the end of the night, either my friend is a serial killer or you’re 🍆👉🏼🕳️💦
As disgusting as Pierre’s text is, you’re grateful that your mind is occupied for a few moments as you text a:
You’re disgusting 🤮
Once you send your text, you place your phone back down on the table and put your head in your hands, praying for a miracle.
“I’ve thought about what it would be like if I ever saw you again,” it’s a familiar voice coming from behind you, “But I’d never have guessed that it would be the two of us being set up on a blind date”.
Your head shoots up and you turn to the direction of the voice. It’s him. It’s Charles. Your Charles.
“I…,” you begin but that’s all you’ve got. You’re just sitting there with your mouth agape.
Charles smiles at you, he’s much more composed and prepared than you are. How could he not be when he knew long ago that it was you that Pierre was trying to set him up with? He’s probably had days if not weeks to prepare for seeing you in person again.
He takes a few steps towards you before taking your hand in his. Just like the last time, he takes your left one, moving it towards him. He smiles at your hand.
No rings this time around, he thinks to himself before placing a delicate kiss onto your skin.
You feel your cheeks redden at his touch and whatever feelings you’ve harboured for him over the last three years all come rushing back. His touch still feels the same, delicate but purposeful.
He gently lets go of your hand before taking the seat opposite you. You’re still shell shocked that he’s actually here, which is why you can only muster up a, “Hi.”
Charles laughs to himself a little.
“Hi, [Y/N]”.
It falls silent between the two of you. Charles gives you the space to figure out what the fuck is going on while he flicks through the menu for a drink.
You take the opportunity to take in his appearance. He looks good, if not better than the last time. His face is slightly more mature and he’s let his moustache and stubble grow a little longer this time. He’s a little bulkier, clearly he’s been lifting more weights in the gym. His hair looks the same, long and silky. And he’s sporting a tan thanks to the French summer. He dresses better than he did before.
Charles smiles as he’s reading the menu, clearly aware that your eyes are fixated on him, glancing over every inch of his body that you can see. He looks up from the menu and looks at you, still smiling. He’s confident in himself, he knows he’s in control and he seems to be enjoying it.
Embarrassed that you’ve been caught staring, you clear throat and decide to speak your first words of the date.
“Ho-How are you? You look good,” you manage to squeak out.
Fuck, that was embarrassing. Is that it?
Charles chuckles to himself once more before it’s his turn to eye you up. His eyes take in your loose curls that are falling delicately over your shoulders. Your face looks the same, no difference to the last time he saw you. Still so beautiful. You’re rocking a summer tan too. And as for your body, well your breasts look incredible in that peach fitted dress. You didn’t look good, you looked phenomenal.
“I’m good. And you? You’re looking good too but I’m not surprised,” Charles replies.
You blush a little at his comment. “Yeah, I’m fine”.
Taking one last look at the menu, Charles closes it before looking at you. Giving you his full attention.
“How long ago did you find out that it was me you were going on a date with?”
“Erm, about- about thirty minutes ago,” you stutter.
Charles shakes his head. “Fucking Pierre,” he mutters to himself.
“How- how long ago did you know it was me?” you ask ever so quietly.
“About three weeks ago,” he watches for your reaction before continuing, “Look, I don’t want to do this here. And I’m sure you don’t want to do this here either. Let’s go back to my place”.
Without even thinking, you nod. And as Charles stands up from his chair, he puts his hand out for you to hold. His touch is so warm. He smiles at you softly before leading you out of the restaurant into the warm Summer evening.
He’s still holding your hand as he waves down a taxi. As you climb inside, Charles’ hand finds his way to your thigh as he gives his address to the taxi driver.
You can’t help but look at his hand on your thigh. It all feels so surreal. He’s being so nice to you after everything that happened and he’s going against everything that Pierre had said about Charles being hurt by an ex. But maybe Charles had changed, maybe he didn’t hate you that much after how things ended between the two of you.
As your drive through the Parisian streets, Charles’ hand remains on you thigh. And it’s Charles who breaks the silence between you.
“How was New York?”
Your head immediately turns towards him. His expression impossible to read. Confused, you answer him.
“Charles, I never went to New York”.
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demonpiratehuntress · 4 months
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Y/n is a nice young woman and head over heels in love with her boyfriend Ace. Of course he too. But there is this girl on the ship, cute, lovely, accommodating and everything that makes a "cute girl". Everyone likes her and Y/n likes her too, until she starts getting closer to Ace. Like, unexpectedly hugging him from behind, clinging to his arm, giving him a slap on the bottom, jumping up to him like she hadn't seen him in forever. She's really attached to him and even after you very politely expressed that you didn't like it and neither did Ace. But after a short while she continues, whether in front of you or the crew. And at some point Y/n's patience breaks and she literally drags her away from him by her hair. No one ever expected that she could be so aggressive, insulting the girl with the most disgusting words y/n could think of. How does Ace react to this?[I'm soo sorry, it's so long😶‍🌫️ Hope it doesn't make you uncomfortable😵‍💫]
No worries! I actually really like this idea, so I hope you like this answer!
back off
Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader
summary - the ask above, you don't like the new recruit when she gets too close to your boyfriend
warnings - swearing, violence from you at the end
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Ace was too nice. You knew that, he knew that, everyone knew that. He was way too nice and you always told him one day that would get him into trouble. You just didn't know that 'one day' would come so soon.
She was nice at first. Sweet, friendly, helpful. You liked having another woman around, because it gave you a break from the rowdiness of the men. She was great to talk to, and for a while was a good listener and a confidant you trusted. You had no idea where Marco had found her, but she'd apparently wanted to become a pirate so he brought her and Whitebeard allowed her to join, thinking it would be good for you. And it was.
For a while.
You started noticing her shift in behaviour when the crew stopped by an island to take a break and just relax, and you'd suggested hitting the beach with her.
"Will Ace be coming?" She asked, trying to mask the excitement in her voice but clearly failing.
You raised an eyebrow, "He's my boyfriend, so probably. He's clingy."
"That's so cute!"
You smiled, ignoring her wistful expression, "It is. He is."
Ace did join you not long after, surprising you by running up to you from behind and lifting you off your feet. You squealed in surprise and laughed, before your eyes widened when you saw the water getting closer and closer.
"Babe, no!"
"Yes," he answered happily, and you just knew he was grinning like the little devil he was.
Then you felt nothing but cold water, and when you resurfaced you gasped for air before shooting the cackling commander a death glare.
"Ace!"
"Sorry, babe, I had to!"
You laughed and shook your head, before witnessing one of the most uncomfortable and infuriating sights you'd ever seen. (Other Name) ran up to your boyfriend, jumped onto his back and locked her legs around his waist. She giggled innocently like that was a totally normal thing to do, telling him that friends gave each other piggyback rides sometimes.
You weren't so sure she saw him as a friend, but you grit your teeth and sucked it up anyway, not wanting to ruin the mood. Ace was confused, and also uncomfortable because he didn't really like anyone but you doing that to him, but he also said nothing. But for him, it was just because he was too sweet to speak out.
At dinner it was even worse.
She shoved herself between you and Ace, running her hand along his arm as she smiled and rambled on about something you weren't listening to.
"(Other Name)," you tried to stay calm, forcing a smile, "Ace and I were talking. Could you please move?"
"Oh, sorry!" She smiled at you, but didn't seem very sorry. Then she had the nerve to get up, move around your boyfriend, and force herself between Marco and Ace.
You grit your teeth again, but said nothing. Everyone was having fun. No need to ruin it with your anger, right? Besides, she knew he was yours, right? He knew that too. You trusted him.
You just didn't trust her...
Afterwards, Ace noticed your sour mood as you both walked to your shared room. He slid his hand into yours and squeezed it, looking at you worriedly.
"You okay babe?"
"I'm fine," you glared ahead. "Nothing's wrong."
He frowned, "But-"
You whirled on him when you were both in the room, "Why aren't you stopping her? I know you're nice, Ace, but there are limits."
His eyes widened, "Babe-"
"No, you're not even trying to tell her to stop! You always look uncomfortable, but you won't ever tell her to go away and stop it! Do you really have that little respect for our relationship?!" As soon as you said it, you regretted it. "I'm sorry, I didn't-"
"I know," he pulled you against his chest, wrapping his arms around you, "I'm sorry. I know I'm too nice to say no. I promise I'll work on it." He kissed the top of your head. "I know she's bothering you, and she's bothering me too. So tomorrow, I'll tell her to stop, okay?"
"Okay," you whispered, smiling softly and burying your face in his neck.
The next morning, he did actually speak to her about it. He told her that she was making you both uncomfortable and that she needed to stop because he was already taken.
Her response?
She waited a few days, only to ramp up her inappropriate and infuriating behaviour.
"Hi Ace!" She greeted him at lunch one day with a smack to his rear.
That's when the atmosphere changed. The crew became nervous, knowing just how you might react to that. You had stopped walking, your eyes narrowing at the brave - and apparently stupid - girl, fury like no other building up inside. You were about to blow.
What the crew expected to happen, was far from what actually happened.
You stormed over to her and grabbed her by her hair, yanking hard to get her away from a stunned Ace. No one moved as you dragged her by her hair to the side of the ship.
"Do you know what 'no' means, you hairbrained little bitch?" You snarled, shoving her against the railing. You pulled her hair a little harder, and she yelped in pain. "Do you know what 'stay away from my boyfriend' means, or do I have to fucking beat it into you?"
The entire crew was silent, some watching in awe, others watching in terror. Ace felt a little bit of both, none of them had ever seen you like this but it was so incredibly hot he didn't want to stop you. It was sweet that you were fighting in his honour, but it was also so so sexy, and his mind was already drifting.
"Look at you, so pathetic and stupid, whining like a little baby," you sneered, unable to stop because all of this had just been building up. "Not so bubbly and sweet now, are you? Maybe this'll teach you to grope other women's boyfriends!" You pulled harder and she whimpered. "Such a whiny little thing. Won't miss you here." Then, casually, you threw her overboard into the ocean.
That's when everyone remembered how to move, and almost all of them rushed over to see (Other Name) flailing around in the water below. You turned and walked away, seething but trying to calm down.
Immediately Ace was on you, gripping your waist and pressing heated kisses to any part of you that his lips could reach. He kissed along your neck, along your shoulders, along your jawline...anything to show just how hot your outburst had been to him.
"That was so, so sexy babe," he was muttering as he kissed you. "You're so unbelievably hot. Can't believe you're all mine. Damn."
You blushed furiously, already over your little outburst. She was forgotten, your mind only on Ace and the kisses he was drowning you in. Then you gasped and laughed when he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, marching you to the bedroom.
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gremlingottoosilly · 3 months
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First of all, I love your fics so much that I keep re-reading them! Second of all, I'm sorry for bad English, third of all! What about kidnapper!König and sick reader, like reader has a chronic illness that requires taking medication everyday ? Like would he just let reader die orrrr???! (Ignore if you want, I know this is dumb)
Hey, don't apologize!! English isn't my first or even second language too. Honestly, being chronically ill and relying on meds might just be the only thing that would save you from total isolation initially. When Konig just kidnapped you, he was vigilant enough to scoop all medication you had in your room - he would find your prescription and read it carefully, knowing how lack of meds can mess a person up. He is taking his anxiety meds - something he often forgets but swears it's not really important to him, as he is a strong, cool man without any problems. He had a few comrades taking prescription drugs from PTSD, and he is dealing with chronic pains from his many injuries - sometimes, when it becomes too bad, he is taking quite strong pain killers...so he won't really make you beg for your meds if you're good. If you're a nice, polite girl for him, you're having your pills in restricted time and he will be very observant to feed you and give you water - he doesn't want you sick, making you fall ill would require him finding a doctor who won't ask questions and, well, he is a mercenary, not a mafia member. In this AU, at least. (Mafia!Konig? Anyone???) If you're bad, however...if you can survive missing a day in taking your meds - you'll have to experience all the pain and withdrawals that come with it. Konig won't hesitate to cut your food privileges, and pills are being taken as well - he would wait to make sure you're not dying, of course, but you won't feel fine even after he allows you to take the minimal dosage. When you're crawling to him, all teary and ready to apologize, he would gladly accept it, and everything would return to normal. If you need to refill your prescription, however...well, Konig never planned on keeping you in the basement for forever - he wants you to be his pretty cute housewife, so he knows he had to let you go out eventually. He will watch over very carefully as you slowly run out of pills - and right before it would be over, he will suddenly make you get dressed and...let you out?? Really?? Well, don't be too happy - he is only doing a drive for a city hall because he wanted to make sure you're married first. Without a flashing wedding, unfortunately, but he'd then be able to get you under his insurance and his family doctor. Doctor visits in Austria(and Central Europe) are abysmal even if you are covered by a very good insurance, and you'd have to cling to Konig for translations - doctors are smiling and nice, but they won't acknowledge you beside the prescription you had, even if you had it in Austria too. Konig is handling all the communication and you know you're trapped - with a psycho holding your hand, holding your meds and literally taking away your last name to replace with his. But, well, at least you got your insurance, right?
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prismuffin · 1 month
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so for my bday ficcc i have two ideas
idea number one: male reader is based on my demon oc. basically personality wise they very sassy and flirty. kinda a bitch ass ho. idc who u pair it with imma be real. it could be ghost, soap or or price. or like batman. he summons them n junk
idea number 2:
polycule ghost, soap x male reader. male reader is a smart dumbass. like they’re an airhead all of the time minus work. they’re a colonel but honestly dumb as shit outside of work. obvious as hell.
if u want more ideas i can tell u love u mwahhhhh
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A/n: Hey Webbie!! Happy birthday!! (Or late birthday depending on when I get this out) decided to go with option 2 kay? also i didnt know how to end this- fight me-
Idiot Boyfriend
Poly!GhostSoap x airhead!male!reader
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( summary: Ghost reflects on how he fell in love with two dumbasses )
Warnings?: swearing, mentions of alcohol, talks of guns and violence, reader being a dumbass
!-!more under the cut!-!
Ghost sighed as he watched you chase Gaz around base. He'd apparently tickled you which you saw as a threat, immediately taking off to get your revenge. Hearing a laugh beside him Ghost turned, seeing an amused Soap who was also watching your silly antics. "Go get 'em sweetheart!" He cheered you on and Ghost groaned. "Don't encourage 'em Johnny," "Why not? This is a funny sight," He smirked, sitting next to Ghost, his head instinctually falling onto the taller mans shoulder. Ghost rolled his eyes as he watched you trip, Gaz stopping to laugh at you. "Oh damn, think he's alright Lt?" Soap asked only to get silence as a response. "Lt?" Ghost had heard him, though he was too busy wondering why he was even with such an airhead anyway. He'd already been dating one headache why did he feel the need to worsen his pain with another.
When he'd first met you he was already with Soap, their relationship being monogamous at the time. Though that was more of a suggestion than set in stone. Maybe it was the fact that the first time he'd met you- you were choking some guy out with the power of your thighs alone that'd intrigued him. Either way you'd easily clicked with Soap after meeting him, and after exchanging war stories and silly jokes with the two men all day they both knew at the end of it that they liked you. Initially, it wasn't going to go anywhere but Soap was the one who suggested adding you to their little relationship. Ghost was hesitant at first, not because he didn't like you but because he wasn't sure if you liked him. You'd obviously liked Soap, romantically or not you both clicked immediately, but for some reason for Ghost it was so hard to read you on your feelings for him. Sure you were polite out of respect but could it ever go deeper than that? He knows sometimes his dark humor can fall flat and his stoic tone doesn't help either. Soap had reassured him that he had a charm that couldn't be beat, but of course he'd say that. You and him clicked so easily, you both told terrible jokes and fucked around when you shouldn't. You both had a mutual love for explosives and beer and karaoke and had this natural bond he could only wish for with you. After talking about it they sort of dropped it for a few weeks but it was clear that Soap had liked you and he could understand why. Especially after what he considers the true turning point for him. It was a pretty normal night on base, everyone asleep in their barracks, everyone except Ghost. He often had nights like these where sleep was the last thing on his mind, memories plaguing his brain as he fought desperately to think of anything else. He would wake up Johnny, tell him about the bad thoughts, but he really needed the sleep after the last mission they'd been on. So he thought to deal with it alone, going into the kitchen to hopefully find a stashed bottle whisky to drown his sorrows for the night. Only upon entering he found you, leaning against the counter, pouring yourself a freshly brewed pot of coffee. You both locked eyes, a mutual understanding flooding you both as you held out the warm pot, asking silently if he'd join you. He, of course, was hesitant but had nothing better to do. So he grabbed a mug from the cabinet and watched as you poured his coffee, black.
You'd both sat in silence for some time before you asked quietly why he was up. He told the truth, nightmares, but didn't go into much detail understandably. You hummed, replying with the same answer when he'd asked you a similar question. Your jokey manner was all but lost in this moment, at least for a second. You'd asked him to talk about his nightmares with you, saying that it'd be better than him just holding everything in all the time. He didn't expect it, but you were so easy to talk to. Just the smallest amount of convincing and he did what you asked. That night you both shared the stories of your nightmares with each other. You comforted him, gave him advice and told him things he definitely needed to hear. Him ranting only got the ball rolling as he found himself sitting on the common room couch with you simply talking about anything and everything, your company in the now silent base was warming. You'd even laughed at his horrid jokes, throwing back a few that he's now added to his growing roster of dark humor. He hadn't felt like this since...well...Johnny. As the sun rose and light cracked through the curtains he couldn't help but feel a little glad that he'd gotten to spend time with you. That night alone showed him he did have a natural connection with you. You understood him in ways he didn't even think you could. He found you also shared his insomnia episodes, his love for dogs and specific guns, his respect of stealth and going at it alone on missions. When he saw Soap later that day he nonchalantly added that he's now considering asking you to join their relationship, and he couldn't help but replicate the smile on Soaps face.
One which he held now.
"Lt?" Soap glanced up at Ghost, noticing the slight crinkle in his eye and the small indent underneath his cloth balaclava. To anyone else he'd look completely normal right now, but Soap knew that those miniscule signs meant that he was smiling. Smiling at you as you groaned on the floor. Closing his eyes, Ghosts shoulders bounced in a silent laugh before he moved to stand, Soap following him with his eyes before realizing where he was going, and moving to go to you too.
Rolling on your back, you huffed, the cold floor on your rear as you stared up at the blinding white flood lights that shone down on you. Only they were blocked by a shadow, then two, the smiling faces of your boyfriends stood over you. "Need a hand sweetheart?" Soaps Scottish accent filled your ears and you couldn't help the small smile that found it's way to your face. Reaching out with both hands you grabbed onto one of each of theirs, laughing as they hoisted you up with ease. You felt Ghost pat your back before his arm wrapped itself around you. Looking at him you noticed the small smile beneath his mask and reciprocated his action, now committing to a full side hug. You just held each other there before Soap joined in, now you held both of your boyfriends in your arms. You rocked back and forth between them, your chase with Gaz momentarily forgotten as you accepted this newer task of being held. Only momentarily though as Gaz came back into view you suddenly remembered what you were doing before this, your glare being set on his form. "Garrick!" You yelled and he ran again, you moved to chase him but the hands of ghost didn't seem to want to let you go. "No you don't, come on, we're leaving." "Awww but Simon come on-" you groaned, "I'm starving." He stated bluntly, practically dragging you away from the scene as Soap laughed at your pouting face, following the two of you to the kitchen. Ghost simply listened as you began ranting about some random show that you and Soap had been watching, allowing you to completely forget about the Gaz thing as you got distracted by your own thoughts again. He watched as you and Soap recounted a particular episode that seemingly got on your nerves as it ended on a cliff hanger, silently smiling once again as he relished in the company of his two idiot boyfriends.
----!----
( HAPPY BIRTHDAY WEB I HOPE YOU LIKE YOU BIRTHDAY FIC SEXY !!! )
Thanks for reading! Have a great day/night!!
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Masterlist
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charles-leclerizz · 20 days
Text
Rapid Fire Challenge: Aisha vs. Max
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Aisha and Max go head-to-head in a rapid-fire question challenge. With only seconds to answer each question, they'll reveal fun facts, preferences, and more. Who will come out on top?
reading time : 8 mins 15 seconds
word count : 1.6 k [ 1650 words ]
warnings : swearing, lewd and suggestive wording, crack, not proof read
Masterlist · 🪷 Aisha · 🪷 Porsche F1 Team · 🪷
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" What the fuck are you wearing?" Max looked Aisha up and down, his trademark red bull can clattering into the hollow bin next to him as he watched Aisha run a confused hand down her front before glancing cautiously back up at him.
She arched a brow at him and tugged at her strapless top, " clothes ? "
Max snorted and reached out to poke her slightly exposed mid-driff, " or lack thereof . "
Was the aggravating man wrong? Perhaps not.
In Aisha's opinion, it was a perfectly splendid ensemble. Another one of her brand parter's had generously offered her a two piece outfit, a long, flowing silk skirt that shimmered a classic Porsche silver- paired with a tight cotton, corset top that accentuated her chest with a ruffled middle piece of taffeta.
To others, it may seem over the top.
" You have the same outfit everyday. it's like you're trying to be an NPC ." Aisha plucked at his red-bull jersey with a scrunched up nose, " it's not my fault that brands love to gift me pretty things and you… well . " she fluttered her fingers at his slightly-looser-than-normal tight jeans.
" Hmm .. " he hummed, tempted to flick the stack of dainty, amrapali golden chains that sat delicately on her collarbones, " whatever you say. I'm sure Lando appreciates your outfit . "
" And what's that meant to mean ? "
" - Excuse me ? "
" Just saying - "
" Saying what ? Are you just jealous that I can pull of colours unlike you, who stays about monochromatic as a pair of granny panties . "
" Woah-h-h, big words for miss 'I'm here cause I couldn't get a modeling gig ' "
" - Excuse me ? "
" Oh, just because I have the assets - " she gestured at her breasts and face, "- to do modelling, you're bitter ? don't worry, we can get you a push up bra from Forever 21. You'll fit right in"
" Excuse me ? "
" - What ? "
" - What ? "
" We're ready for you, " an onset assistant, who looked too scandalised for her own good, motioned for them to step into the filming room.
They mouthed silent insults and unnecessarily pointed to one another, as they pushed through the inconveniently small door.
" And… we're stuck. this is all your fault max . " aisha hissed, crossing her arms as selflessly as she could muster whilst being pressed chest to chest with an equally uncomfortable Dutchman who propped a palm up- just above the crown of her head on the short doorway.
" my fault ? " he retorted, face growing redder with each second they spent sharing breath, " you're the one with india's remaining crown jewels on her person ."
" well maybe if your entitled ancestors didn - "
" oh shut up, it was the british and you know it . "
Luckily, the assistant had noticed their predicament and rushed over to undo the deadbolt lock to the second door, allowing the two to stumble away from each other.
They had thankfully remained silent as the rest of the filming crew grew more and more entertained with their squabbling, merely following the polite instructions and taking their seats as denoted by the white, masking tape markers stuck onto the plush seats.
" ROLLING "
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" Welcome back everyone to a new season of formula 1 ! " the chirpy interview babbled to the largest camera before turning to the drivers who sat in line with her, watching her neutrally as they both accepted small, clip on microphones.
" Today we have … " she trailed off, giggling at Aisha who struggled to slip on the clasp of the tech in her hand, the plastic mechanism clacking obnoxiously at each failed attempt.
" Max, from our very own red bull garage ," she turned to max, who was already set himself up and was now sitting straighter in his tufted, indigo seat. He waved at the camera and politely smiled.
The interviewer glanced at Aisha as she victoriously gasped and raised her hands happily when the microphone stayed put, tucked between her skin and top, " … and aisha, rookie of the season down from porsche . "
Aisha waved at the camera, a serene smile playing on her lips.
" We're here to play a quick fire round of questions with the grids current champion , " she gestured to max, " and this years fresh meat . " she pointed her stack of cards at aisha.
" I'll be asking you both questions about each other, and whoever guesses correctly the fastest, will win a point . it's all about testing if your racing chemistry translates to real-life friendship ! "
" What friendship ? " max deadpanned, fiddling with his fingers.
" Can we do this one thing without you letting people know you hate me ? or is it too hard for the 3X world champion to multi-task ? "
The interviewer's eyes ping-ponged between them before her grin became artificially wider and she screeched a shrill, " Let's begin ! "
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" alright max, what is aisha's favourite track to race ? "
the driver jumped at his name and the camera lens zoomed into his determined expression as he glanced between aisha's anticipatory face and the air, as if he were begging the particles for the answer.
" one second "
" she's said this before.. " he tried, clapping his hands nervously.
" i have, " aisha shrugged, egging him on.
" it was one of those times where she wouldn't shut up. "
" two seconds "
" come on max, it's so easy, i've raced there in f2 as well ... "
" yeah- cause i had the f2 races on while i was training, "
" three seconds "
" wow you're bad at this, " aisha huffed out, landing back against her chair with a relaxed flop.
max bounced his knee, forcibly shutting his eyes and harshly pressing his fingers into them as he pieced together his answer, " it's... shit... is it ?.. suzuka ? "
"- oh for fuck sake ! "
" - you are correct ! one point to max "
CURRENT SCORE : 0 - 1
" okay, aisha, If max could race in any era of Formula 1, past or present, which one would she choose ? "
" how come i get the piss hard one ? "
" cause you'll never actually get hard otherwise.." max mumbled.
" oh fuck off. "
" language guys, our editors aren't paid enough to censor all of this ."
aisha hooked her ankles together before leaning forward and hummed thoughtfully, " maybe... i don't think he's even mentioned this..." she plucked at her dangling earring as she continued to oscillate in recollection.
he shrugged, " i don't think i have actually."
" one second "
" wait... wait..." aisha hurried out, holding her palm out, " i have to choose wether he's too egotistical for my geuss.."
" oh please, " max sassed, " take your time, i'm sure my ego has alot to dissect. "
aisha scrunched up her face sourly, " yeah it does- like your unsolved daddy issues. "
" always the daddy issues ." he threw his hands up, " atleast be creative."
" two seconds "
" okay okay, hmmm, the 2021 season ? " aisha screwed her eyes shut, just incase she was wrong, " he would love to relive his first WDC . "
" that is..." the interviewer patted her legs quickly, continously creating a monotonous beating sound, " correct ! point to aisha . "
CURRENT SCORE : 1 - 1
" last one for max, if he gets this one, he wins, if not, then aisha gets a chance . "
max nodded determinedly, his mouth set in a hard line, "ready."
" wow, okay, " the interviewer gawked at his statue-like intensity, " uhm, what is aisha's pre-race ritual . "
aisha kicked her chin up, ready to watch max blubber over his last question, nobody knows her pre-race ritual, she was diligent enough to keep it hidden.
" so, i know she calls her parents around.. an hour before the race, " he paused mid-way to grin like a cheshire at her increasingly suspicious look, " and, i also know she has a playlist she listens to, mostly hozier.. but, without fail she.." max snaps his fingers, the final peice flickering to life like a broken tube light, "... she always.. can i say this ? "
aisha's face popped, cheeks flushing dangerously quickly, " can he ? "
" i.." the interviewer looked out the small tech crowd behind the camera who all gave her the same, confused shrug, ushering her to continue, " i assume so."
" she always wears.. ehm.. a pair of white underwear ." he mumbles the last phrase, avoiding eye-contact with anyone within the room whilst scratching the back of his neck.
" max ! " aisha smacked his shoulder in outrage, "wha- i mean why- but how ? " she spat out, her words merging within eachother until they tumbled out in an unintelligble spew.
" we didn't get that, she wears what ? "
" white.. undergarments, " max hesitantly answered.
the interviewer blinked a few times before gulping heavily and clearing her throat, " well thats a gross violation ! but let's just gloss over that. "
CURRENT SCORE : 1 - 2
" and for the sake of not continuing this hell-game, max is the winner. congratulations. " she clapped her hand gently against her queue cards.
"yeah.. well done.. bro " aisha muttered, dissociating from her surroundings to protect herself from further embarrassment that may just allow her already erratic heart to jump out of her ribcage.
" i don't feel like a winner," max joined her monotone lilt, eyes wide and wet, maintaing an unwwavering stare at the white wall that stood proud behind the myriad of wires.
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