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russellsppttemplates · 1 month

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Did you lose her? (Lando Norris)

Maybe it was never a change of heart

Note: english is not my first language. It's angsty with a happy ending, and it's also the first piece that's I've written that's based of a song, Stick Season by Noah Kahan. I hope I did it well enough! 🫶 also, it has smut, and if you have followed me for long enough, you know I don't usually do it, but I think it's these AUS pics 😮‍💨😌🥵

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: curse words, previous break-up and themes related to that, smut (mentions protected sex, hormonal contraception, praise kink if you squint at the whole thing)

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

And I saw your mom, she forgot that I existed

Doing the food shop was one one of the mundane adult life tasks you actually enjoyed doing. You had some music on your ears and walked along the supermarket, making sure you weren't buying too much outside of your list.

Tomato sauce and two packets of the instant noodles for when you didn't feel like cooking or were in a rush, you told yourself as you browsed through the aisle.

The scent should've been the first give away, but lots of people wore the same perfume. However, not all of them had the characteristic underlying scent that to this day meant comfort.

"Y/N! I wasn't expecting to see you", Cisca said as he placed the item she took from the shelf on her shopping cart, "goodness, how long has it been since we've seen you?", she smiled sadly.

Five months, you thought. One hundred and fifty two days since you and Lando parted ways and you shipped your belongings back to England. You told yourselves it was amicable and that you'd still be there for eachother, but you had published your first article and he had started his season without the other by your side.

"It's been some time, yes. How are you?", you wondered, "we've been good, you know how busy it gets around this time of year. But Savannah had their little girl, Athena - let me show you a picture!", she scrambled her phone out of her bag.

"Oh, how cute!", you cooed at the little baby bundled up in a pink blanket, "Mila is such a good big sister, too!", she showed you a picture with the two of them in Lando's lap, the baby tucked safely into his chest as Mila seemed to be showing him one of her toys.

Gulping and swallowing the tears that threatened to fall, you looked up at her and smiled, "I'm glad everyone is doing good - send Oliver and Sav my congratulations!", you nodded, hoping she would get the hint.

Storing her phone back in her bag, Cisca smiled, resembling the smile that you woke up many times to, "I will, darling. All the best for you, hopefully we'll see you around", she said before rubbing your back soothingly.

You found an aisle without people and allowed yourself to cry. Just for a little bit before you had to go back to pretend it didn't hurt still.

And I'll dream each night of some version of you

That I might not have, but I did not lose

"I'm on the podium, dad!", Lando yelled as he hugged Adam, cackling in excitement as he hugged the team who were there to celebrate and congratulate him.

"Congratulations, baby!", you yelled as Lando turned to hug you, arms going around your waist and pulling you as close as the safety barriers allowed, clicking open his visor so you could look at your favourite eyes in the world.

"I love you so much, Y/N!", he yelled back, winking before he went up to get weighed in.

On the podium, he looked at you like you two were the only people there, smiling up at him as he blew you a kiss.

"I knew you'd be on the podium, baby", you smiled once you were back in his driver's room, "How are you so sure?", he wondered, kissing your neck soflty.

"The development they're doing, your talent, Lando, I knew it was going to happen, and from now on, you better get used to being up there every single weekend", you smirked, kissing from his throat to his jaw and up to his lips, humming when his tongue poked at your lips begging for entrance.

It was hot and he was sweaty. His phone read 4:30am as he stood up against the headboard, finding the light switch so he wouldn't walk around the hotel room in complete darkness.

It was the third night in a row you showed up in his dreams. The first time, it was subtle as he dreamed about flying on plane and he was sure you were there. The past two, however, had you in there as a main character. He dreamed of walking in the paddock with you, of having you there to comfort him and knock some sense in his head when his P4 in qualifying didn't feel enough, and now you were celebrating his podium.

It's weird how his brain went there, how his arms and face felt like they had truly been holding you despite not having done it in months. Muscle memory betrayed, he thought as he poured himself some water and took little sips of it as he looked outside the window.

Fuck, he missed you. And not just for these big moments where he was on a high and wanted to share it with you or when he was do low you were the only person that could make him crawl out of the dark hole he snuck himself into. It's when he's making his bed back home and the other pillow remains fluffed because no one's using it, it's the mug you left behind and he doesn't have the courage to send back to you or give to someone else or when he sees something that reminds him of you and he gets it, hoping one day he can get them to you.

You once called me forever, now you still can't call me back

Lando sighed again as the call went to voicemail. It was the third time it happened in the last couple of hours. It was media day at Suzuka and they were having lunch.

"You know it's 3 am back in England, right?", Oscar asked bluntly, "when we were having breakfast, sure, you might have got hold of her if she was doing a late night, but I think you should wait", he reasoned.

Oscar was right. He didn't want to risk it waking you up even though he was sure your phone was on silent since you loved your sleep dearly.

"I hate this", Lando muttered, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. Oscar was aware of some of what had happened between Lando and you. The start of the season always came with new gossip and this one's was filled with rumours and conspiracy theories about the paddock's sweetheart and young couple.

Lando started driving in Formula One when he was nineteen, so they had seen his grow up through the years along with your relationship. At first, you were pinned down as his sister, then a best friend when they realised you didn't share genetics, and then you were his girlfriend. The lingering touches and big smiles they caught never rushed you to admit your feelings or put a label on your relationship, but everyone was there when you walked hand in hand on the paddock and confirmed the suspicions they had for months. Lando Norris and his best friend were in love and they all felt like proud parents as they watched you support him unconditionally every time you could.

"Did you lose her?", Oscar quesioned his team-mate as he picked on the food on his plate.

"I don't have her with me, have I?", Lando snapped and regretted it almost immediately.

Oscar put it down to tiredness, jet lag and the fact that he seemed a bit lost on how he was navigating the situation, "What I'm saying is, did you lose her? Did you do your absolute best to keep her with you?", he said sternly, "Used all of the options and possibilities and it still didn't work out? You don't lose someone because things fell apart in a stressful situation", he reasoned.

He was young but not dumb, truly.

"Feels like I have though", Lando added.

"What I'm saying is if you really want to know how she is and if you want to have an honest conversation with her, you have to make an effort. Not just calling and asking your mother to see if she's spotted her lately, or your sisters to check in your circle of friends whether or not she has moved on", Oscar lectured.

"Do you think I can do it? Do I have what it takes?", Lando confessed his doubts out loud. One of the reasons he had yet to act on it was because having a second chance wasn't for everyone and he needed to make sure it went perfect. You deserved that.

"You're a Formula One driver with deep pockets and a massive heart that still belongs to someone. What can't you do?", the young australian driver mused before he got up, taking his plate with him and leaving Lando pondering about what to do next.

I hope this pain's just passin' through

You sang loudly as you dusted the living room shelves, windows open to let the autumn air in. While cleaning wasn't your favourite thing to do, you had woken up with an urge to clean and given that it happened very rarely, you were taking it in stride.

So far, you found a receipt of a pair of jeans you were meant to return but gave your friends instead, a concert ticket and a bigger amount of dust than you'd like to admit. When you pulled the fabric strap, though, you knew that you wouldn't want to get rid of it. The lanyard belonged to one of the passes for one of the Grand Prix weekend you went to see Lando. Inspecting it closer, you realised it was his second home race, the Polaroid picture attached to it confirming the date.

It started with you joking about the fact that the pass was not the prettiest, so Lando hunted down the paddock to find a Polaroid camera, snapping a picture of you two and pinching a hole on it so you could carry it around and cover the supposed ugly pass. The photo was still intact, just a little dusty as you wiped it with your sleeve. Lando was kissing your cheek as you smiled impossibly big, eyes squinty and smile beaming because of the guy whose lips were on your cheek.

A single teardrop fell on the plastic covered paper before a few more followed as you sat down, looking at what you had once been and how things were right now. The missed calls on your phone led you to believe that maybe he still felt something too, but the potential heartache of trying again and it not working would hurt more than it already does.

The vibration from watch caught your attention as you read the two notifications. One from your e-mail with Qatar Airways written in bold and a text from Lando.

Qatar Airways

Thank you for choosing to fly with Qatar Airways!

Lando ✨️

I need you here with me, Y/N, please

I made the flight reservation for you, they will hold the ticket until two hours before the flight leaves, you just have to confirm with your passport ❤️

You promised me that I was more than all the miles combined

Heathrow Airport, 7th October 2023, 6:30 am.

You couldn't back out now, that would mean Lando would lose the money he spent to get you here in the first place. It wasn't by all means quiet, but your thoughts were loud enough.

You shouldn't be here. Why were you here? Why did you accept this, Y/N?

Because Lando needed you there.

Simple as that.

Boarding the flight, you smiled and thanked as the flight attendant pointed to the area where your seat was and where you would spend the next six hours and a half.

"I'm sorry, our seats are by the window", a woman in her thirties said as she bounced a little girl on her hip, making you get up so she could get to it, "thank you", she smiled, sitting down and buclking herself and her daughter to her body.

"Lyla, you can't go pulling on other people's clothes - I'm so sorry", she apoligised as the little girl pulled on your shirt's detailed button buckle.

"No worries, I know how restless they can get. You do the best for your baby. You're only responsible for yours and her emotions, no one else's on this plane", you offered her, remembering the times you would take flights and fully grown adults would go up to a stressed parent to let them know they could hear their crying child as if the parents themselves didn't know.

"My husband is somewhere in there, too", she chuckled, sometimes I feel I'm responsible for his too - accountantable in a way at least", she chuckled.

"You weren't able to sit together?", you wondered.

"My husband planned the weekend to go watch a race and come back, but we found some holiday days and we decided on a spontaneous trip. This was the only seat left they had", she explained.

"I can change seats if you want", you offered, "I'm flying on my own and I'll get to the destination all the same", you giggled.

"You wouldn't mind?", she asked, relief settling over her as she tried to see her husband, waving at him to come closer as you touched the button to call the flight attendant as the passengers were all sat down on your section.

"This lovely young woman says she doesn't mind switching seats with you", she said to her husband as you spoke to the flight attendant.

"No, there's no problem with that if you both agree", the flight attendant smiled as you got up, ignoring the frown on the man next to you who had to get up so you could swap, "bye bye, Lyla!", you waved at the little girl before her parents thanked you once again.

Finding your new seat, you put your bag under the seat in front and sat down, excusing yourself to the older couple next to you, "I just swapped seats with the gentleman that was here, I'm sorry", you smiled, hoping they wouldn't be too mad.

"Oh, he was able to sit with his family after all - I told you, Harold!", the lady winked at her husband, "I'm Francesca, you can call me Fran", she said sweetly.

Despite the early flight, they both seemed to be full of energy as they started telling you stories of their life and family, showing pictures of their kids and grandkids.

"One day you'll have all of that with the person you love, darling - if that's something you want, of course!", Harold peeped in, "our granddaughters are always telling me not everyone wants the same things!", he chuckled softly.

"It's okay - I would like that, actually", you smiled sadly as Francesca landed her hand on top of yours.

"Why does that sound like a confused heart, dear?", she commented, reading you like a book. The flight was closer to be three quarters of the way to the destination, so you still had some time to kill.

"A little bit; I'm actually flying over to see the person who still has this confused heart", you mumbled.

"Your eyes sparkle when you talk about him, dear - something tells me he's going to 'unconfuse' your heart", she smiled, "tell me about him".

"Godness", you chuckled, "He's kind, respectful, honest, goofy, cute, charming, loving, he's all that is good. We just lost our way, I think", you recalled, smiling at the thought of him.

"You'll find it back, dear. Life has mysterious ways but it has the right ways - I like to believe it does, anyway", the older lady assured, squeezing your hand in hers.

Waving goodbye to Harold and Francesca when you found the taxi bay, you requested to be taken to the paddock.

When you got there, you payed the kind driver before he helped you take your suitcase from the boot, "enjoy the race!", he smiled.

You were thankful all eyes were on the track already, making you cross the whole paddock and step into McLaren's hospitality quickly after collecting your pass.

"Y/N!", Zak said as he was the first person to spot you, "you're here, you came!", he smiled, hugging you tightly, "we're all very happy you're here", he said as he asked one of the team members to store your suitcases somewhere appropriate before leading you to the corridor to the drivers' rooms.

"Lando is inside, and the race starts in less than ninety minutes, so you won't talk all you need to, but it's a good start", he said, knocking on the door before he left.

When Lando heard the knock, he hoped it was you. Sophie and Oscar were great people, but in the last hour, everytime he opened the door, theirs were the faces he saw instead of yours.

"Y/N", he welcomed you into his room before closing the door, "I hope it's okay that I flew you here, thank you for coming", he said as he hesitated on giving you a hug.

Taking a step forward, you laced your arms around his waist as he did the same around your shoulders, inhaling eachother's scent and feeling like a weight was lifted off both of you, "I missed you so much, Y/N", he whispered before you pulled apart.

"It's not the first time you've done that for me", you fumbled with your hands, "although I was very surprised. We haven't spoken to eachother in some time, Lando", you sterned.

"Not because I didn't try", he bit bat with an ironic chuckle, "Why did you come here then?", he defended, taking your words as immediate offense and not taking a second to process them properly.

"Because even though we're not together anymore, you matter to me. I care about you! I'm not sure what monster you depict me as or that you imagine I've turned into, but I wouldn't dream of wishing you misery! If you call me and tell me you need me here, I'll be here because I care about you!", you snapped, "you have no idea how many times I wanted to give up and cancel this! Why am I here, Lando?", you asked.

You didn't expect him to react that way, not that you had a much better reaction anyway.

"Fuck, this is not how we do this", you took a deep breath as Lando held your hands in his, mimicking your movements as he did the same. Three long deep breaths, in and out, in and out, in and out.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that", Lando began, hands laced on yours still, "thank you for bring here, I needed you here because there's no one else in the world that can make me feel comfortable like you do, and I need that. I need to feel like myself - and I know it's a selfish ask to make you get up and drop your things to be here with me but-", you interrupted him.

"It's okay, Lando, you're okay", you cooed, searching for his eyes and hoping you'd get the message your mouth was failing to say through.

You pulled him to sit in front of you in the massage table, "I've been seeing all the podiums you've been getting - the team have done such a great job developing, and your talent and skills have brought it to the podium", you tried a lighter subject even though you were 99% sure of his worries.

"Oscar still qualified above me", he began, "He's a rookie and he's managed to do in months what I haven't done in five years", he allowed himself to express his feelings. After all, it was you.

"Oscar is not driving a tractor like you were", you shrugged your shoulders as Lando laughed.

"For someone who was invited last minute and got a pretty good pass, I'm not sure how the team would feel about you talking like that", he smirked, hand finding your own as he rubbed his thumb on your palm.

"I'm only telling the truth", you smiled, "and I mean it. I know how this sport works, but you shouldn't compare yourself to your teammate when the circumstances are so different", you mused.

"The team have been great and they still haven't said anything", he reasoned.

"Of course they haven't because it's something that happens, Lando. I was watching the highlights and so many drivers went over the limits because that's how this track goes", you stated, "there's only so much you can do and you shouldn't put all that pressure on yourself", you tsked, "I know you do, but you shouldn't", you smiled.

"You always know what to say, don't you?", he chuckled, "I have an inkling on how this here works", you winked and tapped his head with your free hand.

A knock on the door interrupted your moment as Jon opened it right after, "Lando, we need to start prepping for the sprint", he said before he turned to you, "Hi Y/N, good to have you back!", he smiled before he let you finish what you were doing.

"I should go, then", Lando trailed off, "are you going to browse around the paddock? I bet a lot of people miss you and your face here", he nudged.

"I came here for you, I don't care about anyone else", you smiled as you leaned over to press a kiss on his cheek for a few seconds, smiling against his warm skin before grabbing your bag and walking out.

Most of the team must've known you were coming since not many of them took a second look whenever you greeted them or entered a different area.

One of the media girls got you a set of headphones as she stood next to you, Oscar and Lando getting ready to go to the track.

His routine hadn't changed as your eyes followed him while he got dressed appropriately and safely for the race.

Before Lando put his helmet on he looked back at you, winking and smiling when you winked back.

When the gap wasn't closing in, you knew Lando would be disappointed with P3, not because of the place itself but because his team-mate had done better.

As you moved to a better spot to watch the interviews on the media pen, your heart felt like someone was using it like a trampoline, jumping and stomping on it as Lando spoke about himself with such a negative tone.

Surely, the interviewers were fishing for answers with biased questions and his mind took him there.

As you waited for him to be back to the hospitality, you got yourself something to eat, realising you hadn't done it since the plane.

Lando was beating himself up and he couldn't shake the bad mood he was in even when he thought you had travelled to see him and be there for him.

As Sophie gave him a quick debrief about his interviews, he stepped into his driver's room so he could have a quick shower and then head to the team debrief.

"It wouldn't hurt going up to her, you know?", Jon told him, ready to take any harsh words first if it meant you didn't hear them.

"I know it wouldn't, I'm just going to eat something and then I'll join the debrief with the rest of the team", Lando mumbled as he walked up to you.

"Hey", he said sitting down on the sofa next to you.

"Hey, Lando", you said, testing the waters and approaching his body until you rested your head on his shoulder.

"You are going to get your win, Lando. It's going to be an amazing weekend and it's going to be your first. Surely important, but you'll be a race winner and go on to the next race", you said as he seemed to be unsure of the tone you were going for, "as that will be a big moment in a long career - because it won't define it - this doesn't define you either, as a person and as a driver", you concluded, hoping to bring a little bit of his confidence and self-esteem back up a little.

"And you're going to be there?", he asked. He was feeling like shit and needed to know. It wasn't fair, but he needed to know.

"I can't make promises like that, not before we speak properly", you remarked, looking up at him from where you were, kissing his cheek and squeezing his hand in yours, "do you want me to stay here or should I go back to the hotel?", you asked. It wasn't the right time or the right place to talk about it.

"Could you stay here, please?", he said as you took your book out of your bag, knowing it would run long and you'd need some entertainment as there was only so much catching up you could do with the team when they're suppose to be working.

"I will, then", you said as Lando took the plunge and kissed the top of your head.

Ten chapters and a tea later, Lando tapped your shoulders, "I'm finished, are we ready to go?", he asked as you got up accepting his hand to hold as you walked out of the hospitality, grabbing your suitcase from the storage room and bidding goodbye to the team.

"I couldn't get a separate room for you, but the room I'm staying in has this living room area and the sofa opens into a bed, they said it's really comfy and they also left an extra mattress topper and some blankets", Lando said as he drove, "in case you didn't feel comfortable, I- I just want you to feel comfortable", he emphasised nervously.

"Lando, you don't need to walk on eggshells, okay? It's me", you smiled reassuringly as he stole a quick look at you before focusing back on the road, "sounds like a nice solution, fine by me", you reassured him.

Leaving the car to the valet and taking the lift up with you, you stayed silent until you were inside the hotel room, "That's the bedroom area, bathroom's here - and it has a double sink - and then the living room", Lando patted the extra linen folded on the sofa.

"Thank you", you assented, "would you like to talk now or is it bad timing? You must be tired f,-".

"Yes, please", he agreed immediately sitting on the sofa and making room for you to sit in front of him.

"I don't know where to begin", you observed after a while, "it's been tough being without you - I have been so used to having you there for me and to be there for you that nothing quite has the same meaning. I can live without you - barely, but I can -, that's not the question, but I don't want to", you manifested.

"We ended things because we had to, and it did us both well to see from another perspective - that's what it felt for me anyway -, but I want to be with you and to have you with me", he elaborated, "I don't care if you have to spend more time back home because of the distance, or come with me to the races because of the distance, too, I-".

"It was never about the distance, Lando", you interjected. You both used that excuse way too many times but deep down you knew it wasn't because of it.

"We'll work it out then", Lando suggested, "we'll work on us because knowing eachother doesn't mean we don't have to put ourselves first and keep investing on our relationship. I value you so much Y/N, I love you so much and I want to do this right", he whispered as if he spoke any louder would disturb the moment.

"I love you too", you smiled as you laced your hands together, "we'll work on it, together".

It was already late so Lando offered you the bathroom so you could shower and do your night routine first and then make the sofa bed to your liking while he did his night routine.

"Good night, angel", Lando said after you hugged him goodnight, kissing the top of your head before letting you lie down first since the light on his bedside table was the only one illuminating the room.

After you cocooned yourself in the sheets comfortably, you spoke up, "Lando, I'm sorry I didn't answer back sooner", you apoligised.

"It's okay, love, you don't have to worry about that", he cooed softly and you could hear the smile on his voice.

"I know it's not, but thank you for making me feel better about it, goodnight", you smiled, feeling hopeful about it.

The next morning, you were woken up by the noise coming from the bathroom, assuming Lando was showering inside as you stretched, surprised at how well you slept. Maybe the bedding was genuinely nice, the sofa bed wasn't bad to begin with, especially considering the hotel you were staying in, or maybe it was the fact that for the first time in months, you fell asleep knowing the person who your heart belonged to was more than happy to let you keep his, too, and he was in the same space as you.

"Good morning, beautiful", Lando smiled as he noticed you were awake already, "did you sleep well?".

"Good morning, Lan", you yawned, "I did, really well, actually. At what time do we have to be at the track?", you wondered. It was a night race, so the call up was later than usual.

"I'm leaving after breakfast, but you can stay and head there later if you want", Lando declared as you walked up to him, "I just need to freshen up and get ready", you smiled, kissing his cheek and heading for the bathroom with your clothes.

As soon as you arrived at the track, you took one of the back entrances as you knew Lando would spend some time with the fans and other drivers he bumped into, finding a nice spot on the lounge and going back to your book.

"I'm going to start race prep", Lando stopped by you in the lounge after a quick meeting, "I probably won't talk to you much until afterwards so I just came to check on you", he reasoned.

Getting up, you moved to one of the corridors, leaning up to kiss his forehead softly, "Good luck, my love, you're going to do so well, I know it", you smiled against his skin.

"I have my lucky charm with me", he smirked, kissing the top of your head before he got back to Jon.

From P10 to P3, Lando had an eventful race. Fortunately, and compared to the rest of the grid, he seemed to be doing fairly well as he stood in front of AC Units while replenishing the water he lost during the fifty-seven laps.

"I'm so proud of you!", you cooed as he got back to the garage, shaking hands with all the mechanics and engineers before he got to you. You hugged his sweaty body, not caring about it as long as you felt his close to you.

"They're postponing race debrief so I'm going to shower quickly and then we can get going, beautiful", he smiled, kissing a spot on your cheek very close to your lips.

Smiling giddily, you went to the bar area to get a bottle of water for yourself as Sophie walked last you, "seems like we will be seeing a lot more of you again soon - maybe Zak can also hire you as our lucky charm!", she winked as you shook your head, blood rushing to your cheeks at her words.

Back in the hotel room, it was your turn to freshen up and get ready to sleep. The spirits were high and you were feeling like the wait time was over. Your heart was healed enough as you sat on Lando's bed, "I'm so proud of you, you had an incredible drive tonight", you smiled as you moved closer to him as he sat on the edge, back against the headboard and one leg on the mattress while the other hung beside the mattress.

"It felt so good", he smiled, "thank you for supporting me", he cupped your cheek as he silently asked you for permission to kiss your lips. Lando couldn't waste anymore time as he pulled you to him so he could kiss you properly, your legs on either side of his as you straddled him, revelling in the feeling of being in eachother's hold as your hands played with his hair while his held your waist.

"As much as I'd love to continue this, I'm exhausted, baby", he rubbed your thighs, "it's okay, my love, I wasn't thinking of letting you do anything else anyway", you smiled, kissing his nose softly before you got on one knee so you could flop to the side and land on the mattress.

"Sleep here, yes?", he mused and you nodded, undoing the bed and getting under the sheets, his arm holding you to him and making sure he didn't let go.

As if you'd leave anyway.

4.30am and Lando woke up again. This time however, the sight he longed to see was right there. The you he had and had got back, cuddled up to his chest as your leg was hoisted up on top of his own and very close to his aching cock.

As he tried to change the angle so every time you moved, your smooth skin wouldn't pratically tease him, you stirred in your sleep, eyes opening as he tried to adjust your knee.

"Is everything alright, baby? Am I hurting you?", you said as you recoiled from his body.

"No, angel, no!", he quickly guaranteed, "I'm sorry I woke you up, it's just that your knee was very close to me and I was having a hard time dealing with it".

"A hard time indeed", you snickered as you felt his hard-on strained on his Calvin Kleins. Dating after being friends for so long brought an easy joking side to your relationship so much easier and funnier as you wouldn't get offended with most of what you said to eachother, "need help with that?", you smirked.

"But I wanted to treat you", Lando pouted, "Can I, gorgeous girl?", he whispered as he kissed up your neck once you whispered "yes", hands roaming on your body as he pulled up your nightshirt, finding your nipples and twisting them slightly to work your body up the way you did with his.

Your sighs and whimpers let him know he was doing a good job as undressed your torso, littering small kissed from your throat to your tummy, "you're so gorgeous, Y/N, I can't believe you're mine", he said as he blew a raspberry on your tummy, earning giggles from you before he licked up a stripe near your panties line.

"You know how much I like it when you wear your pink panties", he voiced as he touched you over the cotton fabric, feeling you pulsate already, "Do you like it when I tease you over your pink panties, baby?".

"Yes", you scrambled out betwen moans and deep breaths, "Oh my Goodness, princess", he cooed as you squirmed, "You want me to fill this pussy up?", he wondered as you let out a yes followed but a deep mewling sound.

"Let me take a little peek, then", as his fingers pushed the fabric down, a string of wetness caught in the material as he smiled, "Oh my Goodness, look at this pretty little pink pussy", he kisses your clit, "all of you, you're se beautiful, baby".

Rubbing the inside of your thighs with his thumbs, pressing the soft skin as he got rid of your underwear, "Are you going to let me fill you up?", he asked as he wouldn't do it without consent.

"Yes, please do it, Lan", you moaned, hand looking for his own to hold.

"You don't need to say please, my love - here", he whispered as he laced your hands together, "you'll always have me, you hear me? I'm yours, sweet girl", he smiled.

His hand that wasn't securely laced in yours helped you take his underwear off before he came back up to kiss your lips softly.

"Does it feel good when I tease your clit like that, gorgeous?", he smirked as he ran the tip of his cock in your sensitive bud, "Yes - uhg, baby", you gasped, looking into his eyes and swearing you could get lost in them had you not been in such a state of arousal as you were.

"You look so pretty like this, my beautiful, sweet girl", he praised as he saw your twitches and heard your moans at his words, "we need protection, though", he stated.

"I'm good, didn't see anyone else - you?", you wondered as he shook his head, "didn't see anyone else either - condom?", he asked, making you nod and separate so he could get it from his toiletries bag. Hormonal contraception left you feeling worse that it made your life easier, so you and Lando always used condoms.

Rolling it down his shaft, Lando climbed back in the bed and kissed your lips, adjusting himself before he entered you.

You whimpered as Lando slid inside you, a low groan escaping from his throat as he gently slid, taking your hand back in his and resting them next to your head on the pillow.

"You feel so good for me, sweet girl, so wet so warm, so good - aah", he breathed out, "so tight, my sweet sweet girl", he squeezed his eyes shut at the feeling of your walls squeezing him.

You stretched your arm out enough to pull his face closer to yours, kissing his jaw and then his lips before whispering "you can move, love".

Lando pulled back slowly, thrusting in gently to begin with and savouring how you felt around him.

"I love you", you muttered into his neck between moans as he picked up the pace, thrusting into you faster, harder and deeper.

"I'm close", Lando groaned as he felt your walls clench around him, his hand crawling between your bodies and drawing lazy circles on your clit to get you to your release.

"Me too, feels so good, I feel so good", you moaned out, a high pitch one particularly when you felt the band was about to snap.

“My sweet girl, my beautiful sweet girl, are you going to come for me?”, Lando worked you up as your body started to show signs of it, "let go, my love, I'm here, I've got you”, he soothed, still gently rubbing your clit with one hand and keeping hold of the other.

Your back arched, sensitive nipples rubbing against his skin, as you came with a high-pitched whine, nuzzling your face on his thick neck as you came undone around him. Lando came soon after, his hand that was not holding yours groping your waist as he groaned.

“Good, sweet girl, that was good, you did so well for me. I’ve got you, it's okay", he assured as he felt you flutter around him, probably from overstimulation considering neither of you had been with anyone else and you hadn't slept a full night yet, the tiredness he felt also a cause for how quickly he finished.

Lando kissed your forehead sweetly before he pulled out, getting up and throwing out the condom on the bathroom bin before he cane back to you on the bed.

"Let's put this on, yeah?", he whispered soflty as he helped you put on his linen shirt, buttoning it enough to let you breathe but still feel hugged by the fabric, and then a clean pair of underwear he got from your suitcase.

Before he laid in bed with you again, he put on his own underwear, pulling you to his arms and then pulling the crisp white covers over you.

"Do you feel good, baby?", he asked once you were cuddled up to him, "yes, I do", you smiled, a mixture of post sex glow and being back in his arms.

"Thank you for not giving up on us, I love you, sweet girl", Lando said as he played with your fingers, bringing them up to his mouth so he could kiss every single one of them, "you're the best thing in my life", he mumbled, letting you drift off to sleep.

#lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 fanfic

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space-mango-company · 2 months

Text

Stranger | Chapter 1

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

Summary: The Atreides daughter is sent off to Giedi Prime to marry the Harkonnen heir in an attempt to quell the feuding Great Houses. The bride, however, must prove her grit and earn the respect of her new family if she is to survive her new life. Perhaps she will find that she had more Harkonnen in her than she thought.

TW: none (for now)

Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut (just not in this chapter lmao), No use of y/n, Original Characters, cannon what cannon

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: Please bear with me, it has been ages since I've written anything and this is my first ever work of fanfiction. I've never written in the second person before so if you catch any mistakes, especially in verb tenses, please let me know. English is not my first language. Also, this might start out a bit slow but I promise things will pick up soon.

The smell of grass and the crashing waves of Caladan brought you comfort as you stood before the starship that had been rented from the Spacing Guild.

Your brother had insisted on accompanying you to Giedi Prime, but a round trip would have been unnecessarily expensive, even with the vast wealth of your Great House. Besides, it would be foolish to deliver the heir of House Atreides to the home world of their sworn enemies. It was bad enough they had to send you there.

"Give them hell," Paul teased as he hugged you goodbye.

You laughed, but you knew his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. He had faith in your strength and ferocity, but he had much less faith in the hospitality of the Harkonnens.

"I'll miss you," you pull away and try to give him a reassuring smile but you, yourself, are not so certain of your fate.

You made your way to your mother, next in line to bid you farewell.

"Remember your training." Lady Jessica held your face and planted a tender kiss on your forehead. She had already given you all the advice she could.

You take her hands in yours and kiss them. "I will," you tell her solemnly.

You finally make it to your father, whose eyes are already welling with tears.

"My darling princess," his voice cracks as he lays a hand on your cheek. The Duke may seem a stoic man to most, but those who truly knew him knew he had a big heart.

Perhaps it is because you are one of those people that you finally feel that weight in your chest that you've been dreading since the signing of your marriage pact. It will be a truly long time before you would see your family again. If you could ever see them at all.

The Duke waves at an attendant who approaches with a silver tray. Leto takes the dagger resting on it and places it in your hands. "To remind you that you will always be an Atreides, that you will always be my daughter."

You let your tears fall as you hold the gift close to your chest.

"Don't cry now," your father pulls you into a hug, hoping to hide his own tears, "or I might never let you go."

You let a laugh slip through the sobs. You knew it was already decided and it is your duty to fulfill. The Sisterhood and the Emperor himself endorsed the match. Nothing could change it now.

The harsh light of Giedi Prime's black sun assaulted your eyes as you made your way down the starship's gangplank. The stark, high-contrast black and white made everything a pain to look at. You were thankful for the veils of your travelling gowns for providing you at least some shade.

You were greeted by House Harkonnen's steward, Jaromir Naggul, and swiftly led into the imposing, Brutalist fortress of their stronghold. You were almost happy to escape the infrared outside.

"Your belongings are being sent to your new quarters as we speak," Jaromir, a lanky but stately man, informs you. "You may change out of your traveling clothes and rest there. The Baron will receive you in the throne room in the afternoon."

You note his accent and the mild contempt in his voice, as if you were an inconvenience.

"This is Iassa," he gestures to one of the servants that had been following you through the halls. "She is your assigned slave. Should you need anything, you may tell her."

The word almost knocks the breath out of you.

You eyes turn to Iassa in her pale gray robes and you give her a polite nod. She hastily curtsies in return.

You knew the Harkonnens and even the Emperor kept slaves, but you suppose it never occurred to you that you would be charged with one yourself.

"Of course," Jaromir continues, "any of the servants in the fortress will be at your command, but Iassa will be in waiting for you in particular."

"Of course," you reply coldly.

"You will be staying in the guest wing for now," Jaromir says as he shows you the door to your quarters. "Of course, until your wedding. When you will then be moved to the na-Baron's apartments."

"...of course," you repeat, grateful again for your veils that they hide your dread.

You are silent as Iassa helps you into a black gown for your audience with the baron. It is the fashionable color in the Harkonnen home world. Although there were many other 'fashionable' traits on Giedi Prime, this was the only one you felt comfortable adopting right now. The complete lack of hair in every individual you had seen was certainly unsettling, but you sensed it would be rude to speak about it.

"What is the na-Baron like?" you ask.

Iassa pauses her fastening of your dress, she swallows. "He is a fearsome warrior, my lady," she keeps her gaze averted, "handsome and popular with the people."

Her voice was shaky but she seemed genuine. You only wonder if those words hold the same implications here as they do back home.

You look over to Iassa as she fetches your shoes. It's not difficult to see that she fears you. You cannot help but feel that that is all there is. You are still an off-worlder. An Atreides no less. She harbors no respect for you.

You take care to style your hair in the fashions of Caladan, fastening a falcon-like pin at the back of your head. The symbol of your house. Perhaps it is a risky choice, to be seen as defiant by the baron should he notice, but you could already feel the black sun beginning to drain the life out of you. The thrill of quiet defiance would have to sustain you for now.

Jaromir returns in time to fetch you and you are led to the throne room.

The baron's grotesque floating body looms over you and his subjects. You had never met any of the Harkonnens before but you were sure that was him.

"Welcome to your new home, Lady Atreides," the Baron utters your last name with thinly veiled loathing. "Let me present my nephew, Feyd-Rautha."

A tall muscular young man steps forward. Stately and regal as a Harkonnen could be, he looks over you with condescending eyes.

He certainly looked like a warrior, and you could see how the people of Giedi Prime could find him handsome, but you find yourself wanting to spit in his face.

"Forgive me for not greeting you when you landed, my lady," the na-Baron bows to you. His gravelly voice sends a chill down your spine, "I was preoccupied at the time. I trust you have settled well?"

You curtsy in turn, "I'm sure my lord had important duties to attend to. I am grateful for your hospitality. My rooms are very comfortable."

"Do not find them too comfortable young lady," the Baron calls from afloat his chair, "your wedding celebrations are to begin and you will be sharing rooms with my nephew before long."

Feyd-Rautha smirks at this and you are almost willing to cast decorum aside to slap it off his face.

"Tomorrow, your groom will take part in the arena to demonstrate his prowess as a worthy husband and leader, as per the traditions of our house," the Baron announces. "I'm sure you will make a point to attend."

"I would not miss it, dear Baron."

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

#feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha smut #dune #dune part two #house harkonnen #house atreides #leto atreides #lady jessica #paul atreides #baron vladimir harkonnen #duke leto atreides #austin butler #jessica atreides #space-mango-company #fic: stranger

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roxineedstosleep · 3 months

Note

Could you do a snippet for yandere platonic Batfam where reader accidentally gets hurt and is able to hide it for a few days until someone (May be Dick?) finds it and asks / gets upset about it? Love your writing!!! ��️♥️♥️♥️

Hi there!!!

First of all: Thank you sweetie!

It's been a while since I've written, mostly because of the university, I'm about to graduate and I'm crazy because I'm approaching my final exams (I even have to defend my research work to be able to get my bachelor's degree)!

But, I got to thinking a bit about what you have written above… and even more so because I myself am a little bit crashed after my last film shoot for my final year of my degree. And can I just say that being in a bad way and having to hide it is terrible.

So… here goes!

(I'm sorry if I sound a bit comical in this writing, but I think the best way to get over something is to laugh at yourself a bit so you don't think about the pain too much; I hope you enjoy it anyway.)

Disclaimer: I don't know if you've noticed, but English is not my native/mother tongue. Occasionally, when I think too much, I write them in my language and then translate it in a trusted translator. So, if there's a grammatical problem or a strange term, it's the translator's fault.

Let's face it… having a large family is terribly exhausting.

It's never quiet enough, everyone is in everyone else's business, you can't leave your favorite mermelade in the fridge for less than a day. Someone is always occupying the bathroom or using your favorite shampoo or watching something on TV at too much volume and someone is probably occupying your bed at nap time.

Did I mention about meddling too much in other people's business? Yes? Well… triple it.

Having multiple siblings was new.

Having multiple siblings, a father and a butler/grandfather isn't exactly bread and butter either.

It wouldn't be so bad to belong to a large and numerous one if it was your blood family and you had lived with them all your life. I mean, sometimes blood is too thick and you have no choice but to learn to love them or just be nice to each other.

Like I said, it wouldn't be so bad if they were really your family.

But the Waynes were not your family. Not distant relatives or anything like that.

You were just living your life, as quietly as possible… and poof!

New room, new butler/grandfather, pets beyond belief, 4 new male siblings and a father with serious emotional constipation issues. And, to add more salt to your wound…. all have serious abandonment issues and death-related trauma.

After several escape attempts, sleep strikes, hunger strikes and any other kind of protest that an anarchist could be proud of… you realized that it was simply impossible to get out of this without risking the path of death.

Which, to top it all off, was also unreliable because apparently your older brother Jason had revived as well as another of your siblings. So no, dying was also not a viable option to which one could resort in the worst case scenario.

What to do?

Well, not much. Trying not to die of suffocation of affection or finding a way to have privacy while going to the bathroom just seemed to be the best survival tools you could resort to.

What does that entail?

It implies that Tim was going to give you hours and hours of lectures on his latest discovery of a case, even if you don't understand half the things he's told you or mentioned at all.

Richard and Damian trying to teach you new tricks almost every second, taking you to the Zoo or not leaving you alone to go to the bathroom.

That Jason, oh holy cow he is the only one more relaxed, takes you with him on his motorcycle to eat ice cream and to the public library. Without being able to scape, because it seems that you have a kind of GPS inserted in the bone marrow.

(Sometimes you don't know if it's true or not, but sometimes you also felt pain between your bones, almost during the cold seasons, and you didn't want to burst your poor little head thinking of different viable possibilities knowing them. No scars, no remembering anythins about any surgery).

Have a grandfather who will not hesitate to make you cookies, your favorite foods whenever you want … without leaving you aside at any time.

Plus a terribly quiet father, who if he can will carry you for as long as you spend time together, won't let you near the secret basement and enjoys being in the same room with you.

Do you see any privacy in this?

No, because even at the bathroom door would be the pets trying to get in and see you for themselves while you want to do your business.

The worst of that? Titus always judge you when you close the curtains.

As I mentioned and it was clear: Having a large family implies little privacy… Having a large, obsessive family means NO privacy.

So, knowing that you have over 50 nanochips tracking in all your clothes, two security monitors embedded - God knows how - in your body (monitors that only tell you if you are in designated safe place), 20 high definition surveillance cameras in every room and a Great Dane chasing you like a chick …. How the heck do you fall down the stairs and hit your pelvic bone without anyone noticing?

No kidding, how?

And if you had to blame someone for your fall… you'd totally blame Damian for it.

It's not that the kid pushed you down the stairs, but over time he had tamed himself into various things and relaxed into looking his age. You know!!! He started acting like a normal teenager!

What do Damian's kids do at his age? Well, they leave things lying around and have messing around them when they can, of course they do!

You just wanted some yogurt with orange marmalade. Maybe some oatmeal cookies. Alfred had left it for you in the fridge when he noticed you'd been watching video tutorials on homemade marmalade for hours. Who were you to deny such a gesture of generosity?

I mean, Alfred was the one who allowed you to hide in the attic for hours on end so you could have some time to yourself.

And how did it end? You, slipping down the main stairs of the old Wayne mansion, down a nicely polished wooden staircase, rolling all the way down (which is no small flight of stairs, it should be noted) to the bottom of the first floor.

Now, lying on the ground is not so bad in itself. What is bad is not being able to feel your legs and still not being able to understand how you manage to tidy up your neural wiring so that your legs can still move on their own and go to the kitchen to rescue all the delicacies Alfred left you in time.

And it's a good thing you managed to do it… because within seconds Bart had rushed in to ransack the fridge and the fruit basket.

But that's not the point.

The important thing is that this time you managed, I insist a little on the feat of action, to climb up to your room and not notice how you couldn't really feel your legs.

You ate, you lay down… and to your bad or good luck, you couldn't get up …. and without anyone noticing there was an emergency and everyone went out to sort it out.

Weak limbs, limited movement and you don't want to mention the embarrassing actions you did in order to go to the toilet.

It's not like you hid it either, I mean, there was no one who could even notice because they weren't entirely available to watch you. Nor is it that you would have run away, otherwise they would have been at your side in less than a second.

The detail, as they insist, is that you had probably bruised your back badly and your body was now taxing you extra for your food craving.

I insist, you did not hide anything.

But still, when you're found completely itchy on the floor, ridiculously trying to run away in the direction of the bathroom… that's when everyone really goes crazy.

First, having to carry you and not dying of embarrassment when you notice that Bruce definitely doesn't give a damn about having to carry you to the bathroom and do almost everything for you.

Or having Dick and Jason carry you and fit you into some kind of weird medical scanner they have in the cave.

Or that Tim keeps track of your periods, types of meds you take and, for fuck's sake, knows how the fuck to inject something into your spine.

Or that Damian had the gall to look a little embarrassed when he heard that a pair of boxers lying outside the laundry basket was to blame for all this.

NO matter.

At the end of the day they heal you, pamper you, leave you alone when you need to take a nap and figure out a way to fix it without looking like complete maniacs who built some kind of internal plumbing that sucks up the dirty laundry and throws it straight into the washing machine.

Like the time they didn't look like maniacs by sanding all the edges of the tables and nightstands.

Or the time they bought a whole brand of sanitary towels when they realised that not all women use tampons.

Don't worry, they're looking out for you… even if they look like deranged Arkhan freaks in the process.

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hoseokshobagi · 3 months

Text

† Reborn in Sin ⸸ | Sneak peak | PJM

† Reborn in Sin ⸸ sneak peak

✞PAIRING: demon!jimin x fem!reader

✞ 【SUMMARY】: for years jimin was your constant and loyal companion in the church, a shining example of humility and compassion. but when he was tragically taken from the world before he could experience life, his heart was filled with anger and resentment. and so, in a moment of weakness, he struck a deal with the devil, trading his soul for a second chance at life. but when he returned, he was no longer your kind and devoted boy you once knew.

✞ 『GENRE』: dark ✟ supernatural ✟ fantasy ✟ angst ✟ smut

✞ RATING: 18+ / minors do not interact

✞ WORD COUNT: loading...

✞ [WARNINGS/TAGS] : dead dove, dark, death, manipulation, corruption (kink?), church & religion, blasphemy & desecration, [oral(m) - not with reader, headpusher jimin, face fucking, spit play], dirty talk, humiliation, degradation, dubcon, public fingering, exhibitionism, sexual "nightmares" & hallucinations, mind games, jimin is the worst & the BIGGEST warning!!!!, oral(f), cunt drunk jimin, unprotected sex, rough sex, orgasm denial, edging, overstimulation, unrealistic amount of cum lmao, cum play, betrayal, mind break

✞ NOTE: hi beautiful people!!! this story was written for the @btsfests writing fest. actually this is the first time i publish my writing and omg ahcbdjs i'm so nervous while writing this note. i always wrote for myself and my closest friends but thanks to bts fests and their never ending encouraging words i decided to show off my writing. this little part is the reason why i started writing this whole story and i hope you'll like it just as much as i enjoyed writing every word. :] this demon jimin is the most cunty & selfish character i've written so far so yall better prepare yourselves ajfnsjxnsjs

english is not my native language, but despite that i'll write and communicate in english. please if you see an error in my writing or grammar lmk!! <3

my dearest beta read: @liveyun 🐢♡

COMING SOON

❗this is the darkest fic i've ever written so please read all the warnings before reading❗

The delicate chimes of the church bell echoed softly through the cavernous rafters, casting an unsettling shadow over Jimin’s mind. Like ghostly whispers emanating from the very walls and pillars of the church, the sounds seemed to taunt him. Whispering to him that he no longer belonged in this sacred space.

He couldn’t believe how he used to devour Father Seokjin’s every word, eagerly drinking up his sermons like it was the finest wine he ever tasted. In this very church, where he had spent countless hours sitting in the pews, Jimin felt like a stranger in the world he once called home.

He looked to his left and gazed upon the sweet, delicate flower — the very reason why he was there. Innocence shining in your eyes, your eyelashes fluttered like the softest butterfly wings. Sitting next to him with hands clasped tightly together in your lap, you looked as pure as new snow, listening to the mass.

Oh, how much he forced himself to resist the urge to reach out and ruin you right then and there. To feel the delicate petals of your innocence as they crumpled beneath his fingers. But he was going to do so slowly, savoring every moment of your fall from grace.

So, he grit his teeth and forced himself to endure the priest’s words and the choir’s music, at least, for a while.

Despite his best efforts, this place was as dull and lifeless as the stones that made up its walls. He spent half of his life trapped within these confines, he knew every creak of the floorboards, every flicker of light, every word and phrase of the Bible that was engraved in his mind, the product of countless wasted years.

Jimin raised a hand to his face, tracing each perfect curve of his newly manicured nails, scrutinizing them from every angle. He raised an eyebrow in anticipation, marveling at Hoseok’s handiwork.

He couldn’t wait to make another deal with the bastard later.

You noticed his attention was drifting and Jimin’s reverie was broken by a gentle tap on his shoulder, causing his thoughts to come crashing down around him like a house of cards. He turned to see your confused eyes peering up at him, your delicate lips murmuring a soft “pray”.

He couldn’t help but mentally roll his eyes. Oh, you were so annoying. He was going to make you pay for all the stress and frustration that he had to go through and endure because of you.

Jimin lowered his head and with a deep breath, closed his eyes, pretending as if he was lost in prayer, his mind far from it. Wandering anywhere but there.

As you finally turned back to offer your own prayers, he couldn’t resist and raised his eyes, glancing back at you.

And he was so fucked.

You were a sight to behold, more divine than the sacred paintings that adorned the walls of this church.

As your eyes drifted shut, your lashes like feathers of a sleeping bird, delicately brushed the curves of your eyes. The soft radiance of the lights danced upon your face, creating a tender veil of shadows that caressed your skin.

Your lips moved in silent devotion as you murmured in such sincerity, clutching the Holy Book tightly in your hands. And he swears, he could feel his dick twitch just at the sight.

You were so breakable, so vulnerable and so fucking beautiful.

Yeah, he was so fucked. So lost in you.

Park’s burning desires had been building to a crescendo in the last few days, a boiling point that seemed to threaten to engulf him whole. He felt like his longing for you was an aching fire that was on the verge of exploding. The mere sight of you at the church was a powerful trigger to him, fanning the flames for this fire.

And he thought it was ridiculous.

He couldn’t believe how he couldn’t control himself, his body yearning for yours, needing to stain the purity of your grace, to spread his sin all around your soul. To corrupt the sacredness of who you were with the foulness of who he had become.

He glanced around and took in the sights and sounds of the church, noticing that everyone was enraptured by the mass. Their focus was solely on the priest at the cathedral, their attention directed nowhere else.

With a subtle smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, he slipped closer to you and your sweet scent filled his nostrils; making him feel intoxicated. He knew exactly what he had to do; a little play won’t hurt anyone.

Jimin’s touch was like a gentle caress of a summer breeze, soft and tender, caressing your skin like the lightest of kisses. Your eyes flicked open, searching for the source of such unexpected warmth.

And there he was, with his legs crossed, - his gaze fixed on you with such intensity that always made your cheeks warm for some reason – one arm resting comfortably on his elbow on the church pew, the other continuing to idly play with the soft fabric of your long skirt.

You never wore anything revealing; preferring modesty over anything else, however this time, you felt utterly exposed as his eyes roamed over your form like that. Jimin always enjoyed this, stripping away your layers one by one, revealing the true you that lay beneath.

Slowly he drew near, his aura spreading like a thick mist, wrapping around you. The scent of his cologne swirled around as his body pressed against yours, his knee gently nudging yours. His warm breath brushed against your cheeks, like the caress of a dead night.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing. Keep praying." You looked at his hand, still playing with your skirt, unsure of what to say. Jimin’s voice was calm and soft, yet, there was something about his dark eyes that made you feel uneasy. Like he was biding his time, planning his next move.

It clearly made you uncomfortable, but you were too naive to say anything, too afraid to speak your mind, not to mention that you were sure Jimin would never do anything wrong, so you turned back again and closed your eyes to pray.

But what you didn’t know was that you were already entangled by the snake’s coils; Jimin waited for the moment when you would break. He was so curious, so eager to see just how far you would go, how much you would endure before you finally stepped up and told him to stop.

Would you wrench his hand away? Would you yell at him? Would you make a scene in the middle of the church? He knew you wouldn’t, knew you were just too gentle and too timid to disrespect your favorite little church.

And so, he kept pushing, pushing your boundaries and invading your personal space, inch by inch, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in the wake of his touch.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, trying desperately to break free from his touch, but he only tightened his grip, making your heart race with a mixture of fear and uncertainty.

"Jimin, can you please stop?" Oh, that was it. Your question was hardly above a whisper, as though afraid of you would be heard by those around you. The snake’s grip finally ensnared his delicate, little flower and he had no intention of stopping.

„Keep it down. You wouldn’t wanna disturb the praying souls now, would you?”

A devilish smirk played on his lips, eyes like black holes bearing down at you. His voice was like honey dripping from his lips; so soft and alluring. A stark contrast to the real meaning behind his words and actions. He continued to run his hand up your thigh, pushing your long skirt higher and higher until it was bunched around your waist.

"Jimin, st—" His other hand slithered around from the back of your neck, forcefully covering your mouth, silencing any words that wanted to escape your lips. Whatever you tried to say it came out muffled by his hand, leaving you feeling panicked and completely helpless.

You grasped at the material like a lifeline, desperate to pull it back down, but Jimin’s arm was like a steel barricade, preventing you from covering yourself. You felt trapped, your body burning with the shame of exposure.

"I said keep your mouth shut. We don’t want others to see you like this, do we?"

Your breath caught in your throat, unable to escape as the fear of being discovered and shamed in front of everyone took over. All you could do was fix your gaze on Jimin’s intense, brooding eyes, silently pleading for mercy with your own desperate ones. Ah, so pretty for him.

As you gazed into the depths of his dark eyes, the windows to his no longer existing a soul, you revealed a darkness that engulfed you, and you knew there was no escape.

You were at his mercy, and he had none.

Jimin’s pupils dilated at the sight, your skin was soft and flawless, causing a shiver to run down his spine as he gently touched you. The delicate fabric of your white panties teased him, giving him just a glimpse of what was hidden underneath.

With a playful twinkle in his eyes, he lazily played with the tiny, little, pink bow adorning the center of your panties. His actions were a clear taunt, a display of the control he had over you and your vulnerabilities.

It was clear you wanted to push him away, to scold him, yell at him, but he knew the fear of causing a scene in church held you back. You tried to glance around nervously, hoping no one would notice what was happening.

The world seemed to come to a standstill, the only thing that existed was the fast, thumping beat of your heart as Jimin’s hand slithered closer and closer to the place where it had no business being. You felt trapped, your body frozen, unable to break free as if you were held captive by a coiled serpent; its grip tightening with each struggle. The sound of your unsteady breaths filled the air, the only thing grounding you in reality, that, and the heat from his touch, because this serpent was crafted from the finest satin.

„Shh, baby, it’s okay. It’s okay, keep praying so God won’t mind, yeah?”

His words made you paralyzed, like a spell, breaking you down. Words like those should never have left the lips of the kind and caring Jimin that you thought you knew. Your mind was reeling with shock and pain, struggling to make sense of how someone you had trusted completely could suddenly become a stranger. Jimin’s actions were like a knife to your heart, a stab that pierced through the trust you had placed in him.

With the grace of a feather dancing on skin, Jimin traced his fingers over your clothed clit, making you tremble beneath his touch. A soft gasp escaped your lips, your eyes widening as you felt the weight of the moment sinking in.

And he chuckled softly, a low rumble that only you could hear, taking your response as a cue, he increased the pressure. His skilled fingers now applied a firm yet tender touch, coaxing your body to new heights of pleasure, and your body tingled in response, betraying you by a throbbing ache that grew stronger with every touch.

As the ripples of pleasure swirled within you, you tried to pull back, to resist the sin that was happening in the very place where you sought solace and salvation. The guilt gnawed at your soul, the snake’s venom that seeped into every crevice, tainting the flower’s beauty.

And yet, Jimin reveled in your pain, basking in the darkness of your suffering as he watched the guilt consume you whole. The venom of your remorse was a feast for his senses; the holy wine, the sweetest elixir to be savored with every devious sip.

"Look, what do we have in here." He pressed his thumb against the dark spot on your panties, causing you to shiver. For him, the sensations of your wetness seeping through the fabric was like an euphoric rush, the sweet nectar of his delicate flower, intoxicating and irresistible.

Heat spread across your cheeks, horror and shame washing over you at his words, you shook your head, tried to move, tried to tell him to stop, but you found yourself lost in his eyes, searching for any sign of the person you once knew. But all you saw was darkness, a void that seemed to swallow you whole.

"Deny it if you want, baby, but aren’t you a nasty girl? You’re fucking soaking."

And it was true. Your body felt like it was betraying you, and you were mortified. He ignited a fire within you that you couldn’t deny. A soft cry slipped from your lips, but you couldn’t bear to face him, knowing that you were powerless in his grasp.

You were unable to believe what was happening. As someone who had always followed the Catholic faith and held its teachings in high regard, there you were, in this sacred place, allowing something so forbidden to take place.

But as his fingers slipped under the fabric of your panties, your mind went blank. The back of Jimin’s hand clung to your sticky panties as his fingers found their way down to your folds, the feeling making him shiver.

„Fuck— you’re so wet, can’t wait to feel you around me.”

You squeezed your lips together under Jimin’s hand to keep from making any noise, your eyes squeezed shut, tears threatened to spill down your cheeks as his wet fingers continued to rub and spread your folds apart, smearing your sticky arousal all over your cunt.

„Shh, this won’t make you a sinner baby, it’s okay. You won’t mind just one finger inside, yeah?” His middle finger probed at your entrance, teasing it, making it wetter still, as he slowly pushed in.

„Y-yeah baby— just one finger?” He teased and removed his finger, making you clench around thin air, and Jimin swears, the feeling made him twitch inside his pants. Teasing you – or himself, it didn’t matter anymore – he plunged back in, tauntingly slow.

Jimin’s eyes rolled to the back of his skull, his hard dick pressing firmly against his pants, yearning for release. To him this is how true Paradise felt like, the feeling of your silk walls wrapped around his digit.

He was about to lose it.

He bottomed his finger out inside you, knuckle deep, until his small 13 tattoo on his wrist met with your lower abdomen.

But he craved more. Fuck, how much he wanted to slam you against the pew and spread your thighs wide open, stretching your pretty little pussy right out with his dick. And who could blame him with the way your cunt gripped on his one single digit like that, dripping wet and sinfully warm.

But he couldn’t— not now. And it made him crazy.

You sank into the pew, your body trembling as he started to move his finger, his other hand still covering your mouth to keep you quiet. Every part of you was on fire, your mind and body in a constant battle between desire and shame. You were supposed to stop him, to push him away, but all you could manage was tremble and it made your eyes water.

It was a mixture of remorse and the burning desire pounding between your thighs; something you had never experienced before and something you knew you shouldn’t have felt at all in this holy place. And more likely you should’ve never clenched harder around Jimin’s finger when you heard the small shudder in each breath he took.

"Ahh baby—" The faint, breathy little whimper shattered his voice. "fuck.. you’re so perfect… so f-fucking perfect."

Your heart pounded in your chest, your breath shallow and ragged, mirroring the rhythm of his finger. With his warm breath tickling your ear, his whispered words were barely audible, but they still managed to send shivers down your spine.

"Ooh, h-how I wish to see this perfect fucking pussy."

Jimin couldn’t take his eyes off of you as he watched your face intently, committing every single feature and expression to his memory. The way your brows were furrowed in pleasure, the way you fought to keep your eyes open due to the sensitivity.

He couldn’t help but admire the way your chest rose and fell with each ragged breath, the way you tried to stifle your moans under his hand, and the way your juices flowed from your aching cunt.

You were a captivating sight, sinful and alluring, flesh heated and glistening with arousal, and he knew you couldn’t deny it even though you tried. Your trembling body and the slickness on his fingers were evidence of the truth.

He slowly added a second finger, stretching you open further and moving faster, his fingers stroking your sensitive spot, sending waves of pleasure through you. With every stroke, you felt your body weakening, and your thoughts began to succumb to the corrupting pleasure.

Despite your protests, your body responded eagerly, arching towards him in a desperate plea for more; seeking more of the exquisite pleasure he was giving you.

You never felt so conflicted in your entire life, your mind was a battlefield; torn between your beliefs and the undeniable pleasure that was now coursing through your veins. Every creak of the old wooden pews felt like a judgment, a cruel reminder that you were committing a sin that would send you to the depths of damnation.

But when Jimin serendipitously grazed your swollen clit with his thumb, your mind went blank. You’d lost it.

Your hips involuntarily jerked against his hand, unable to contain the overwhelming pleasure. You gritted your teeth, determined to keep your cries of ecstasy at bay, but it was a dead effort as you squirmed and moaned, muffled by his hand covering your mouth.

"Fuck— Don’t moan like that, you’re getting too loud, keep quiet."

But you couldn’t. It was as if your head was spinning, unable to focus on anything except the pleasure. The way he slid his fingers in and out of you, his thumb perfectly stimulating your clit, it was too much.

Despite your efforts, you couldn’t contain the small moans that escaped your lips. The church was now just a blur in the background, the stained glass windows casting kaleidoscopic patterns on the floor.

"Shit, baby, keep fucking quiet or do you want me to slip those fucking panties off and stuff them in your mouth, hm?" Jimin’s whispered words sent shivers down your spine, making you clasp around his fingers right back in.

"Y-yeah, you want that baby? My nasty girl, s-so good... so fucking perfect." He moved his fingers faster, his thumb circling deliciously on your clit, building up the pace for your climax, your body crying out for release. And oh, how he reveled in it, savoring every moment, every sensation as his little flower finally opened its petals to him.

"You’re so close, baby, f-fuck— just let go, let me take you there."

As Jimin’s fingers brought you closer and closer to the brink, you couldn’t help but give in, feeling all the guilt and shame wash away in the face of the intense pleasure you were feeling.

„Ooh, fuck— Y-yeah, baby, go on. Come all over my fucking fingers.”

Just as you were about to reach the peak, a sudden thud broke through the lustful haze. Your tear-filled eyes fluttered open and you glanced up to the top of the church’s gallery, where you saw the organ player, Mr. Min sprawled on the ground at the bottom of the stairs, amidst a sea of fallen notes.

In that moment, time seemed to stand still as your eyes met his, and you saw the shock and disbelief on his once serene face.

Your heart plummeted like a falling star, sinking into the depths of your stomach as you realized what you must look like to Mr. Min. Your cheeks burned with the heat of a thousand suns as you met his gaze, his face a canvas of flushed embarrassment, crushing you with shame and guilt.

For in the eyes of Mr. Min, you were no other, but a sinner caught in the act of sin in the house of the divine. And as the notes of the holy music lay scattered at his feet, you couldn’t help but wonder if they were a reflection of your shattered innocence.

Mr. Min quickly ascended the stairs to the organ, his emotions were in disarray, a tumultuous blend of arousal and embarrassment. With each step, he tried to push away the image of what he had just seen, but it lingered like a haunting melody in his mind.

His cheeks burned with shame, but he couldn’t help stealing a glance at you before he reached the top of the stairs, his feline eyes burning you whole.

Exposed and vulnerable, you were unable to look at the organ player in the eyes anymore. You closed your eyes tight in an attempt to block out the intensity of his gaze. But even with your eyes shut, you could feel his feline eyes looking down at you.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the image, Jimin’s skillful fingers never faltered to move inside you, your body feeling like it was exploding. A soft whimper escaped your lips, which got silenced by his firm grasp.

With each second you felt yourself surrendering to the overwhelming ecstasy.

As you teetered on the edge, ready to fall into the abyss of pleasure, you were suddenly jolted back to reality, finding yourself next to Jimin who was kneeling humbly on the wooden pew of the church, praying.

With eyes wide open, heated cheeks and heavy breathing you gazed at your own clasped hands on the pew.

Was this all in your head? How could you have let your mind wander to sinful desires in the sacred walls of the church?

Jimin’s innocent devotion to his God only amplified your own guilt, making you feel like a fallen angel in the presence of his pure soul.

Jimin couldn’t help but smirk, he bit the inside of his cheek, but it didn’t help hiding it. He moved his clasped hands toward his mouth to hide the devilish smirk that appeared on his lips.

For he knew the power he held over you, the power to seduce and corrupt your very being. And with each passing day he was one step closer to claiming your body and soul for his own.

And as you sat there, lost in a whirlwind of emotions, Jimin continued to pray, his facade of innocence masking the devilish intentions that lurked within.

#bts scenarios #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #jimin fanfic #jimin scenarios #jimin smut #jimin x reader #park jimin x reader #bts x reader #park jimin fanfic #btsfests #park jimin smut

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effervescentluminescence · 2 years

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Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Our Flag Means Death (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Blackbeard | Edward Teach/Stede Bonnet Characters: Blackbeard | Edward Teach, Lucius Spriggs, Officer Hornberry (Our Flag Means Death), Mary Allamby Bonnet, Stede Bonnet, Israel Hands Additional Tags: Fix-It, Humor, Angst, no beta we die like the guy whose corpse they used in the fuckery, sometimes to distract yourself from picking at your fic, that's being beta read, you write another fic, that's what happened here, Rating May Change Summary:

In which Lucius barges in at the right moment, for once.

#ofmd fic #ofmd #i did it again and the last time i did it was last week #my take on the Ed goes to Barbados and meets Mary trope that I haven't seen yet #i've never written so much in my life and that includes my english degree

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ao3commentoftheday · 4 months

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What would you usually advise for an aspiring writer who just... Doesn't have a wide range of English vocabulary? :( I've never written anything yet but for many times in my life, I've been surrounded by literature and fanfiction that I feel at home with the topic. I have stories in mind for my fandoms that I wish that I can write. But the problem is-- English is not my first language. I worry that my dialogues or storylines may not sound appropriate if I ever write and it reaches audience outside my country. I also worry that my world knowledge and or social awareness may be so small that I may not make things... relatable. Do I need to read a lot before being able to start to write? Because I read somewhere that good writers are also wide readers.

I definitely agree that reading more (and reading broading across genres, cultures, and time periods) is a valuable way for a writer to spend their time. By reading, you become familiar with the components of writing and how to put them together. You get a feel for styles that really resonate with you and you also learn what kinds of writing you just don't really like much at all.

That said, I don't think you need to do all of your reading before you start writing. Watching a lot of youtube videos about swimming isn't going to do much for you until you actually get into a pool. Knowing the theory is only half of the battle. Being able to practice is important too.

Remember, you don't have to do it all in 1 story. You can start by writing things that are within your knowledge and when you're comfortable doing that, you can see if you enjoy researching too. If you do, then great! You've got more potential topics to write about. If you don't, that's great too! You get to dig in deeper on the themes and touchstones that you already know.

There's nothing shameful about getting really good at writing the same few things. No one ever asked Agatha Christie to stop writing about murder because she really should branch out.

Having simpler vocabulary is also nothing to be ashamed of - although based on your ask, I think you don't have anything to be worried about. For this, and for the other worries you've expressed, I recommend asking a friend (either in person or in fandom) to read over your work with you. A beta can be there to help with grammar and spelling, but they can also assist in developing ideas or identifying opportunities you have in your story. They can be a cheer reader or a sensitivity reader too.

When it comes to being relatable, just remember we're all human. We all live. We'll all die. We all feel happy and sad and angry and bored and hungry. A lot of us fall in love. A lot of us have caring families. Some of us are heartbroken for almost all of our lives. The city that we do it in or the workplace or the type of school doesn't matter. It's the experience part that's universal.

I'd love to hear from other authors who write in second (or third, etc) languages about your thoughts on this one. And for everyone else, please feel free to share your thoughts as well.

#asks and answers

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comicaurora · 5 months

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I've started making my way through the playlist hbomberguy made of actually good video essays by queer creators and spotted a comment of yours on the one about the relationship between Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy, which was fun xD red in the wild!

Anyways, just wanted to appreciate how both you and Blue and you are very good at showing your sources! It's always nice to know that the people you've watched for years have good habits after an event like this, and I hope you guys are among the people that get some new fans after this whole debacle, because your channel definitely qualifies for "good educational videos made by queer people"

I'm glad! Blue's much better about listing his sources and follow-up reading than I am.

To be honest, I loved the video, but my imposter syndrome always flares like crazy when I watch an essay like that. It might be the ADHD or it might just be who I am as a person, but I feel like I've lived my whole life striving to make everything I do the best it can be, and still managing to fuck up and get criticised for things I could've done better if only I never missed anything. It's an actual gut-drop when it turns out a source I used wasn't trustworthy, or when in older videos I only went wiki-deep for some claims and didn't check every source to be 100% sure I wasn't being goat-fish'd. And this being the internet, I can get criticized at any time for things I've gotten wrong years ago, since it's evergreen online and to the new-viewing critic it's as fresh as yesterday. It makes it hard for me to stay proud of my work past the first moment of "oh I would've done that different now". There's a cocktail of complicated, scary feelings around this space, no matter how little I actually have in common with the bad guys of this scenario - it's less about the reality and more about who my imposter syndrome tells me I am. I saw several people saying that the video actually made them feel much better about their own work because it made it clear that accidental plagiarism on that scale is impossible, but if my anxieties listened to reason I would've successfully machete'd them out of my skull years ago. I just hope I never fuck up badly enough to deserve an hbombing of my own.

But my own stress aside, the hbomb essay exposed a level of laxness, laziness and entitlement on the part of these plagiarists that I think is almost incomprehensible to people who actually create for a living or even just the joy of it. How hollow do you have to be to take in someone else's writing and not consider it, digest it, let it reshape your views and then formulate your own interpretation on it, but instead to file off the serial numbers and pretend it's yours, trusting that the person whose thoughts and words you valued enough to steal will never be powerful enough to call you out on it? I go down research rabbit holes because I love the frustration and thrill of putting something together! How joyless it must be to skim the surface and borrow someone else's conclusions!

I've sometimes had people email asking for sources on parts of my interpretation of various myths, possibly in the interest of source-citing for school papers (a nightmare concept in and of itself) and with very few exceptions I usually have to tell them "the only sources were the english translations I used of the primary source where the myth was originally written, like I said in the video, and the part where I said I was conspiracy-boarding has no source other than my own analysis of the given source, which is why I called it conspiracy-boarding" and I was always a little baffled by those emails - half the videos are introduced like "this is The Prose Edda" or "this is in Ovid's Metamorphoses" or "this bit is Hesiod" so what else could they want - but seeing the hbomb of the week made me realize that truly original analysis might not be what most people are expecting from a "thing summarized." They might be expecting a compilation of other people's summaries instead.

#asks #not aurora

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kagakuoniryu · 2 months

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Alastor x reader I've written randomly to vent about a shitty situation I'm currently living

Summary : a new guest you knew from your past life arrive at the hotel, she was that one person who bullied you throigh high school, but she mooks too angelic to be guilty

Code : E/n (ennemy/name)

Tags : fem reader, etablished relationship, angst for the most part, there will maybe be a part 2, mentions of bullying, reader is TRAUMATIZED, english is not my first language, may have some inaccuracy about the show since I'm just projecting, and of course probably ooc characters

It wasn't a bad day, at least not in a place like hell, it was even quite nice, charlie was babbling about a new team bonding activity as usual, and it was nice being with your friends, until around 2 pm...when a new guest arrived...

Oh you remembered her...from high school, so pretty, so popular, she was you best friends ! You should have been overjoyed to see her down here !

Well...not exactly, because she wasn't your best friend anymore, you hardly bear to be in the same room as her, of anger, from your history and how your friendship ended...but also of fear and dread...

You were both teens back then, you and eager to have many friends ! You had your own group of friends, and she was a separate individual, spending her time with her boyfriend often, that's okay by you, you were happy for her, and when that boy left her you welcomed her with open arms ! You became best friend soon, even inseparable ! You heard her badmouth you to your friend group from time to time, but she told you it was okay, it was "to know who was fake" then, one by one, your friends ghosted you, but you had her, she was there at least, making new friends, each time you introduced her they left soon enough, you thought that maybe you were the problem and stopped trying, your best friend was there after all

Until a boy came along, love at first sight for you, he had everything ! He had so much...your best friend wanted him too...and with that, she had him, when you called her out she called you an homewrecker and a toxic friend getting in the way of her relationship, that ended badly and an argument followed, while you stayed on the down low, she texted your few friends left, and any new friends you managed to make telling them how awful you were, so you ended up closing your media althogether, moving away, and never hearing about her ever again

And there she was, she didn't really looked different from her time on her, a round face and blond hair, she didn't looked like she fitted in hell, but you you were different, your body jointed like a doll, mocking your life as the puppet of those who wanted to play you, but if not your appearance, your personnality changed, you were more confident, your boyfriend was a powerful overlord too ! No, not boyfriend, he proposed a month ago after all, he was your fiancee now, and you had friends, through thick and thin, you knew they wouldn't buy into her lie at least !

Having an hard time to breath you sucked it up, maybe she wouldn't recognize you ?

Wrong

How wrong

"Hello ! Welcome to the hazbin hotel ! Guys this is our new guest !" Charlie started with her usually cheerfulness

"Hi everyone ! My name is E/n, I barely arrived in hell ! And I figured that if I could, I would want to be redeemed ! After all everyone deserves second chances !" The girl said back

Her voice hasn't changed, neither her tone, that fake nice tone you used to hear every day, here, one again in flesh and blood, not through a phone, not through class, but..here...

Breathing harder than ever, you only went back to reality when husk called out to you

"Hey ? You seem weird, like you've seen some ghost ?" His tone nonchalant as always showed half concerns, but for him, it was a lot

"A glass, of whiskey, or vodka, whatever you got, strongest you got please"

"Wowowo...alright, that's not your type to drink, what's up...?"

"I-I...I know this girl...she...listens, I can't be in her presence sober, I knew her from where I was alive...we had...some bad conflict...she did some awful things to me, and I got bad issues after that...I said some mean things to her too, we were kids, but since then I'm scared I'll lose all my friends again !"

Husk just nodded at my whispered rant, trying to calm myself, I didn't even insisted on a glass and went straight to my own room since alastor and I didn't shared one yet, not before marriage he said

Later that day, angel vaggie and charlie passed by my room, concerned by my absence, I told them everything, how I ended up abandonning the notion of making friends when I was alive, the calls, the insults, they looked at me with compassion, charlie said she believes that she could have changed, and even if I doubted it, I wanted to believes it

Alastor arrived to spend some quality time with me, dancing on old jazz music far from my time, reading a book, basking in silence with each others

After a while, I thought I could talk about E/n with him, he was my fiancee after all ?

"Al ?" I started, unsure

"Yes my dear ?"

"You know about that new guest at the hotel ?"

"Ah yes, what a cultivated lady, quite entertaining, she was really into songs from the 1980s not my style at all, we had a long discussion about music genres, she's actually quite against modern technology and that picture show"

"Oh...so...you like her company ?"

"She is not insufferable if that's your question"

Finally you decided against your first idea, perhaps she had changed in the end ? Perhaps a new friendship was possible ? With healthy fondation, you could get your bestfriend back !

Wrong again

You revealed her the next day who you were, well, used to be, what linked the two of you back in the living realms, for others, nothing changed, but for you it was subtle, for exemple she never interrupted anyone, but when it came to you each time your mouth opened she would cut you out

She was such a charmer too, a quality you envied her, her audience was captivated, and soon even alastor was her aquaintance, he presented her rosie of course ! Just like he did for charlie !

And just like he did for you...

Rosie found her delightful, and from your tea parties at 3 with her and alastor, became 4, adding E/n

A comment about your appearance back in high school, an embarassing moment you had, a silly crush, every single detail of your life was used to mock you, even your crush on a video game character

Soon you always found excuses to avoid going to the tea party, and spend most of our time outside of the hotel, feeling akward in her presence

You tried talking about it to charlie or maybe vaggie, to no avail, they said how nice E/n was and how much progress she was making, if they weren't saying you sounded silly thinking that in these 3 weeks she took your place, you still felt like it...

And it all confirmed when, after a whole day of searching for everyone, they finally came back to the hotel from shopping...without you

"Finally you're here toots ! We tried searching for ya before going but you weren't anywhere !" Angel started, holding many bags in each arms

"What do you mean ? I was in my room all day ?"

"Wait you weren't out ? E/n told us she saw you leave ?"

"Oh I'm sorry my eyes deceived me...next time I'll still check your room !" As everyone looked sorry I couldn't help but see it, even for a second...

She smirked...

Of course she did, she never changed

This started becoming common occurence, either the others left you behind, or you could leave the entire day without them noticing, and at some point, angel, husk and sir pentious started to distance themselves from you

"Hey angel, hum...you wanna hang out...? Go to a club, or drink with husk, just spend some time betweens pal ?"

"Sorry sweet cheeks, but we're partying with E/n tonight and...she doesn't feel comfortable around you..."

"Wha ? Angel what are you talking about ?"

"She told us about it, about the two of you, hos jealous and manipulative you were, you even tried to make her dump her boyfriend, that wasn't cool of you, I don't want to take side on this, but if I hang out with one of you, I'd rather not force her to be with the other for both your sanities"

"Oh...ok"

That's all you could have mustered, because what was there to muster, you were in hell, all the proof you used to have were on your previous phone in the living realm, but even if angel and the other favored her, mayne your fiancee could understand your side ?

Gently you knocked on alastor's hotel room as he called you to come in, he was currently eating his dinner, a...fresh venison...but you shook your head lightly, taking a sit across the table

"Al, can I vent to you for a bit...?"

"What is it my dear ? But please, spare me your story with E/n, as much as I love a good gossip, the young lady did you a favor by never taking vengance in the living realm, I wouldn't want the two of you to get in troubles once again"

"Al, please it's serious, she's telling lies about le ! And you believes her ? I'm your fiancee ! She's in hell as well !"

"And so are you, and so am I, I am not interested in knowing the why who is were, but I admit your little querrel is...quite entertaining !"

"So your fiancee see her ex bully...and all you think about is entertainment ?"

"Well, ma chère (my dear) as far as we are all concerned, without proof, both of you could be the liar, it's about, who's able to convince the public, just like on a stage"

Alastor's half sadistic smile didn't amused you, you just sighed, getting up, wamking slowly toward the exit of his room, if even your own fiancee, the man you loved refused to believes you, who would ?

You couldn't see alastor's curious expression as you left, he just wanted to prolounge the fun and not outright gives you the solution, but seeing you give up almost made him that for once he screwed up badly

#writing #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #angst #alastor angst #x reader #x reader angst #hazbin hotel x reader

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lanadelnegan · 8 months

Text

Tattoo

Pre-apocalypse!Negan x Reader (Negan is y/n's art teacher & also owns a tattoo shop).

Warnings: THIS IS THE FILTHIEST THING I'VE WRITTEN SO FAR and it's just going to get filthier from here on. smut, forbidden love, age-gap (reader is 18, negan is 38), angst, oral (female receiving), lots of sexual tension, slow burnnnn.(there's an actual plot this time), vaginal sex, public sex, breeding, slight daddy kink

Summary: After graduating and leaving behind the man she fell for but couldn't have, y/n decides to get a tattoo that reminds her of him. And he gives it to her.

A/n: ugh, this had me in my feels. A "hard to get" teacher Negan. basically you're negan's former student and he gives you a tattoo and things.. well - just read it.

"Well damn. I don't mean to be sentimental, but I have seriously enjoyed teaching you little shits. I hope you can take what you've learned and apply it to something. Be creative. Oh, and.. don't think about hitting me up on Instagram after this because I don't do social media. That shit is toxic. Remember that, kids."

The bell cuts Negan off before he can finish his inspirational speech. He's always had such a way with words.. should have been an English teacher instead.

Most of the students rush out like the room is on fire, with the exception of a few annoying girls that think he'll jump their bones now that school is out.

"So, Mr. Smith, since you don't have social media, can I get your number at least?" I cringe as she twirls her hair around her finger and her friends giggle obnoxiously behind her.

"Girls. Behave for once. A tip for college? Don't flirt with your professors." He warns while motioning them out the door.

I suddenly realize that my ass has been glued to my seat this entire time and I'm the only one still here. I quickly get up and throw my backpack over one shoulder. He stares at me from the doorway but I just look down as I walk towards him.

"Bye Mr. Smith."

"Nice try. Sit down." He shuts his door and walks back into the room pointing towards my chair for me to sit.

"Mr. Smith, y/n?" He mocks. "Seriously?"

I never call him that. He's always been Negan to me.

I've known him for 4 years now. He's the only art teacher at Alexandria High, and even though I have no interest in art, I've taken his class every year because I do have an interest.. in him.

What he doesn't know is that I've been making mental notes everyday for the past four years about all his interests, personal life, hobbies, you name it.

He loves the color red - because it's the only color expo marker he writes in.

His favorite lunch is two cigarettes and coke zero. I hate that he smokes.

He stopped coaching baseball last year because he said he didn't have time anymore. But I think it's actually because he's never cared for it to begin with.

He had a wife, but she passed away. Some kind of cancer. She's still his computer wallpaper, which tells me he still hasn't moved on even though it was six years ago. My heart hurts for him.

He wasn't lying - he doesn't have social media....I would have found it.

He sits at another student's desk right next to mine with his body facing me.

"You gonna tell me why the hell you look like your best fucking friend just died?"

I stare at the floor next to his shoes and try to think about anything other than fact that I'm never going to see him again.

"Look at me."

I slowly lift my eyes to his and can't stop the tear that escapes the second I see his face.

"Ah, shit." His expression turns serious when he notices my tears. "Look, kid. I -"

"Stop calling me kid." I snap.

He chuckles. "Hate to break it to ya y/n, but you are very much a kid in my eyes, which is why this thing -" he motions his hand towards me. "this.. crush you have on me - has to end today."

My eyes widen as I stare at him speechless. He seriously did not just assume I have a crush on him.

"Did you jus - You seriously think just because a few stupid girls want to get in your pants, it means everyone does?" I scoff. "Unbelievable. You're my teacher. I don't have a crush on you."

He laughs as if we both know I'm lying - which I am.

"Alright, I'm sorry I called you a kid. Now, you wanna tell me what's wrong?"

"It's just I - I'm gonna miss you." I instantly regret saying it.

He nods and looks at the floor, letting out a frustrated sigh.

"I'm sorry. I - I'm just gonna go." I get up to leave, leaving my heart with him. My stomach twists in a knot when I realize he isn't getting up to stop me.

Why would he?

Once I'm in the hall, I turn to take one last look at him. He's bent over with his hands through his hair as if his best friend just died.

Negan's POV: That fucking girl. In my twelve years of teaching, I've never cared about a student like I do her. I care about all of my students, but goddamn it, she's had me wrapped around her finger for longer than I'm comfortable to admit - And I never will. She fucking sucks at hiding her feelings. I knew from the first day she walked into my class that she wanted to jump on my dick. Hell, every girl does. But other girls bat their fake eyelashes at me and tell me how they feel. Y/n.. she's.. obsessed with me. She thinks I didn't notice her doodling my name in her notebook with little hearts. Or that I don't hear her whispering to her friends about the dreams she has about me. Or how she stares at me during lectures like she's on a different planet. And if that's not enough, the girl hates art. Yet she's chosen it as her elective every single year. She has straight A's in every class, but doesn't even try in mine. And yet.. my dumb ass still passed her with an A. Maybe because I'm obsessed with her too.

Back to Y/n's POV:

I cried on the way home that day.

While everyone else celebrated school ending with a party, I stayed in my room and cried while looking at his photo in the yearbook.

While everyone walked across the stage at graduation, my diploma came in the mail and I stayed home holding Negan's lucky baseball bat that he gave me last year.

My last day of junior year, I stayed after school to help Negan clean out his classroom so he could move into a bigger art room. That was the year he quit coaching. I replay the memory in my head more often than I should..

"Why do you have this bat just sitting in the corner?" "It brings me good luck. I hit a home run every game my senior year with that bat." "Your senior year? This bat is that old?!" "Watch it, kid." He rolls his eyes and throws some folders in a bin. "Hmm." I study the bat. "I could use some luck." "Keep it." I look at him confused. "But... it's your-" "I want you to have it." He cuts me off. "Are - Are you sure?" He sighs frustrated. "Do you not want it?" "Well, I mean, I do but -" "Then stop being stubborn and take it."

Ever since that day, his bat has been leaned up against the wall by my bed as a constant reminder of the man I want but can never have.

After a few weeks of feeling sorry for myself, my best friend tried convincing me to do something for myself since my birthday was coming up.

"Y/n, you should.. get your nails done, go buy some new clothes, do.. something. But you need to get out of that room. It's... depressing."

"I think I want a tattoo."

"Oh, okay, yeah. That's a good idea. What are you wanting to get?" She asks from the other end of the phone.

"I dunno." My eyes drift towards the bat. "Something meaningful."

The next day...

Lucille's

The tattoo shop sign reads. I swing the door open, excited for the first time in a month. The sound of tattoo guns and rock music fills the lobby.

"Hey, welcome to Lucille's. Do you have an idea of what you'd like or do you want to see some of our work?" The woman on the other side of the counter pulls out a binder.

"Oh, no, I think I know what I want already." I smile and pull up the picture on my phone before showing her.

"Okay, we can do that. Shouldn't take too long either. An hour tops. I can actually take you now in room 3." The so-called "rooms" aren't actually rooms, but rather closed off sections with tall walls on each side. From where I'm standing, I can't see the people in the tattoo chair, but I can see the top of the tattoo artists' heads if I stand on my tippy-toes.

She leads me to room 3 and I sit in the chair while she gets out the instruments.

"This your first tattoo?"

"Yeah, kinda nervous."

She smiles. "I'd tell you not to worry, but, sorry babe. It's gonna hurt."

I appreciate her honesty and just smile back at her.

"So, where do we want it?" she holds the printed off picture off of the tattoo I want.

I lean back in the chair, putting my legs up, so I'm laying down. I lift my shirt up right above my belly button and slightly pull my shorts down, revealing my pubic bone. "Right here." I point to the left side of where my panty line would be but lower.

After I confirm the placement, she presses the needle to my skin and I bite my bottom lip at the sudden pain that radiates throughout my hip.

"Breathe, babe. You got this."

After a couple seconds, she turns in her chair to load more ink into the gun.

"Y/n?" I hear from the entrance behind me.

I know that voice without turning to look. My eyes widen and the girl tattooing me looks at him.

"Hey boss, you two know each other?" She looks between the two of us.

I look back at him and see him nod at her. "I'll finish her up, Ruby. Thanks." He takes the tattoo gun from her and sits in her chair when she gets up to leave. The scent of leather and cigarettes fills the small room and I realize how much I missed it.

He pauses when he looks down at my skin and I can't tell if he's staring because of my tattoo of choice or because I'm almost completely exposed. If I didn't just shave, half of my pubic hair would be on display to him.

The way he's looking at my skin wakes the butterflies in my stomach and I have to mentally tell myself not to clench my legs together. He looks up at me through heavy eyelids and for the first time in four years, I'm unable to read him. I can't tell if he's disappointed, mad... or turned on...?

He looks back at the tattoo and shakes his head, sighing.

Okay, it's definitely a look of disappointment.

"You realize I have to finish this now that she's already started it, right?" He studies the lines already permanently marked in my skin. The faint purple lines of where the sticker was placed give away the complete outline of what the tattoo will be. "There's still time to change it though."

"What? What do you mean.. change it? I want this one."

"No." Is all he says and my eyes widen in shock at him.

"You can't tell me what to do Negan. I'm an adult, and I'm getting it."

"Why?" He snaps, frustration dripping from his tone.

He looks into my eyes for the first time since he's been in the room and the butterflies in my stomach have now gone wild.

"Because I... I want a piece of you with me always."

He closes his eyes and drops his head. My eyes start to water but I hold them back the best I can.

"Y/n." He shakes his head but to my surprise, he hesitantly places his left hand on my thigh, his fingers dangerously close to the spot I've imagined him touching a million times. The feel of his rough fingers on my bare skin ignites a flame in me I didn't know existed and all I do is stare at his hand.

"Relax." He rolls his eyes and starts the gun. He leans down closer and begins tattooing me.

I have to bite back the moan threatening to escape my lips. With Ruby.. it hurt. But with Negan, it.. almost feels good.

He glances up at me as if he can hear my thoughts and then goes back to gliding a straight line of ink across my skin.

The next few moments are spent in silence, with nothing but the sounds of the tattoo gun and music playing in the distance.

"Fuck, y/n. I'm gonna need these off so I can get to you better." He gestures at my shorts.

My eyes widen but I nod and slide them off, barely breathing now that I'm laying in front of Negan in just my underwear. The way his jaw ticks when he sees that I'm wearing red lace panties doesn't go unnoticed. His favorite color.

He places his hand back on my leg, this time with his fingers completely against my inner thigh. I slightly part my legs without thinking and he pauses to glance at me before continuing with the tattoo.

If he moved his finger half an inch upwards, he would be touching me.

"I never knew you worked at a tattoo shop." I break the silence, hoping to get my mind off his hand.

He chuckles. "I own it, darlin'. And there's a lot you don't know about me."

Another long pause happens before he speaks first this time.

"Why did you take art, y/n?"

"Uh.. I dunno, because I liked it."

He huffs out a laugh. "You liked it... or me?"

I shrug. "Both."

His face turns serious again and he stops the tattoo gun. "All done."

He backs away and motions for me to stand up and look in the mirror in the corner. I stand in front of it, but don't even notice my tattoo because my eyes catch Negan in the mirror staring at my ass. These panties don't leave much to the imagination and my cheeks redden at how much I'm exposed to him.

He suddenly looks up and makes eye contact with me in the mirror. His eyes are darker than usual and filled with lust.

"Come here." He demands and I obey, walking towards him.

Once I'm standing in front of him, he lifts his hands to grab my hips. My belly button is eye level to him and I look down, watching him intensely. His thumbs dig into my hips and he looks at the tattoo.

"Do you like it?" I ask him.

He ignores me and it makes my heart break a little more. "Lay back down, y/n." He gets up to pull the curtain over the entrance of the room.

I do as he says and he comes back, placing a clear tape bandage over the fresh tattoo.

He looks as if he's deep in thought before suddenly sliding his hands underneath my thighs and pulling me closer to him. He pushes my leg aside and rests my other foot in his lap until my legs are completely spread apart in front of him.

"You want me to touch you, y/n? Is that what you want?"

"Yes.."

"Tell me what you want, baby."

"Your mouth."

He chuckles darkly and kisses the inside of my thigh before sliding his fingers under my panties and ripping them apart.

He shoves them in the back of his jean pocket and wraps his arms around my thighs, holding my stomach down with his hands and leaning his head down closer.

"Look at this pretty pussy, baby. So wet for me you're glistening."

His eyes look up at me right before he licks me and my head falls back with pleasure.

He stops suddenly. "Eyes on me, darlin'. How many times have you imagined me between your legs? You're going to watch me eat this pussy, y/n."

I nod, looking at him and he continues. The sound of other people talking in the distance makes my senses even more heightened.

He licks me again, pressing his tongue into me harder this time. He moans as he stops at my clit and gently sucks it into his mouth. I moan and watch him as he looks like he's eating the best meal he's ever had.

"You taste even better than I imagined, baby."

"You.. imagined it?"

"Baby. You aren't the only one who daydreams in class." He says before dipping his tongue deep inside me.

He switches back and forth between licking me and sucking me until my moans get louder and faster.

"Negan, I'm gonna.."

"I know baby, give it to me." He rubs me with his tongue faster until I'm coming apart. His hand quickly covers my mouth and I cry out into his hand.

"Fuck, doll." He groans and adjusts himself through his jeans. "This pussy is about to make me cum in my pants like I'm a fucking teenager again."

"Negan.." I say out of breath. "I wanna touch you. Please."

He stands and picks up my shorts, but not before I see the huge bulge in his pants. He helps me put my shorts on and I look at him confused when he doesn't say anything.

"Nega-"

"No, y/n."

My eyes water with tears as I stand to finish pulling my shorts up. "I - I don't understand."

"This can't happen, baby. I shouldn't have touched you."

I nod. "So that's it, Negan? You get what you want and that's it.. you're just.. done with me?"

"Are you fucking serious? You think I got what I wanted? I'm standing here with a hard-on that's gonna give me a giant case of blue balls. Any other man would throw you on this table and take you right here."

"Then why don't you?!"

"Because I fucking.. I care about you. You happy now? I fucking CARE ABOUT YOU, y/n. And I'm not going to break your heart."

I wipe a tear that runs down my cheek. "You already did." I grab my purse and rush out of the room, stopping in front of Ruby on the way out and pulling out some cash.

"I'm sorry hun." She says empathetically as if she heard everything that just happened.

I cry harder and lay the cash down before leaving and walking to my car. Before I can open my car door, Negan is grabbing my arm and turning me around to face him.

"Goddamn it, listen to me!"

I don't fight him, I just stare at him, noting the hurt in his eyes. My heart hurts and I suddenly feel guilty for making him feel any ounce of pain.

"Y/n.. look.."

"No." I cut him off. "Negan, I'm sorry. This is my fault.. I put you in this situation because I was selfish.. and delusional. I'm so sorry. I'll leave, and you won't have to hear from me or see me again."

He scoffs. "You think that's what I want? I guess you don't know me the way I thought you did."

Before I can say anything else, he crashes his lips to mine and kisses me so hard and but so softly at the same time. His fingers slip through my hair and his hand rests on the back of my neck as he deepens our kiss.

"You're gonna be the death of me, kid."

I bite his lip hard when he calls me kid and our kiss goes from passionate to animalistic. He presses himself flat against me with my back against my car and I feel his hard cock straining against his jeans. His lips travel to my neck and he bites me hard, right before kissing and sucking the sensitive spot.

That's definitely going to leave a mark.

"You have no clue what you do to me, baby." He says in between kisses. His voice is raspier and deeper than usual. "Do you have any idea how many times I've left work and had to rub one out at the thought of you? Hell, sometimes even at work."

I look around the parking lot. It's nighttime but we're still clearly visible in the lights.

"Look at me, y/n. Forget where we are and just focus on me baby." His hand slips into my shorts and it takes him no time to find my soaked entrance since my panties are currently in his back pocket.

"Negan.." I breathe.

He smiles against my lips. "Baby.. You sure this is what you want? Because once I've had you, you're mine."

I nod and he puts his mouth next to my ear.

"Take your shorts off. Now." He pulls his hand from my shorts and sucks my juices off his fingers.

"But, Negan, we're-"

"I said, now y/n. You want me so bad, you're gonna get me wherever and however I say. Now, take your fucking shorts off before I rip them too."

I hesitantly slide my shorts off while looking around again. There aren't any other cars in the parking lot other than a couple of his employees. All the customers left. There's a main road up ahead but we're far enough away where they wouldn't see us unless they we're staring really hard.

"Good girl. Now take my cock out, baby."

He leans his hands against my car on either side of me, trapping me in. I waste no time reaching for the button on his jeans and unzipping him before pulling out his hard, huge cock. It's bigger than I imagined.. a lot bigger. I don't know how that thing is going to even fit in me. He's so hard that the veins in his cock look like they are about to erupt and his tip is already dripping with precum.

I can't help but run my thumb over the tip to collect some and bring it to my mouth to taste him. His eyes darken with lust at the sight of me sucking his precum off my finger.

"Taste good, doll?"

I nod and he chuckles. "There's a lot more where that came from."

He grips the back of my thigh with his hand and pulls my right leg around his waist.

The feeling of his dick rubbing against my wet pussy is enough to make my knees weak. Literally. I almost collapse at the sensation of him rubbing the head against my opening, teasing me. He presses his body closer to me in attempt to hold me up.

"Fuck, look at this dripping pussy." He looks down between us, admiring the view of his cock teasing my wet slit. "It's about to be dripping with my cum in a few minutes.. You ready for me, baby?"

"Yes, please. I need you."

He enters me completely in one swift motion, not giving me anytime to adjust. My walls are stretched further than they've ever been and it feels like the tip of him is buried up to my stomach.

He doesn't move for a moment, but instead looks into my eyes with his cock all the way inside of me. "There you go, baby. Finally getting what you wanted after all these years and taking my dick like a champ."

"Negan.." I moan. "Please.. just fuck me."

He pulls out of me almost completely before slowly pushing himself back in, agonizingly slow. Our bodies are flush against each other and he kisses me again.

"Fuck, baby." He growls. "You. Feel. So. Fucking GOOD." He says between thrusts as my mouth falls open.

I wrap my arms around his neck to hold myself up and lean against him with my lips pressed against his neck. I take the opportunity to mark him back, grabbing his skin between my teeth and sucking hard. He moans so loud that I glance around to make sure no one heard him, but we're still alone.

His thrusts get harder and faster and the sounds coming from his sexy mouth are enough alone to make me cum.

"Look at me, y/n. I want to see your face when you cum all over my cock."

His hand that was on the car behind me slides between us, instantly finding my clit. He begins rubbing circles on it with his middle finger while thrusting his hips into me faster.

I look into his eyes while my arms are still wrapped around his shoulders tightly, keeping me in place. My fingers run through his dark hair and my breathing goes erratic as I feel myself come undone around him.

"You want me to fill you up, baby? You want daddy's cum?"

I nod quickly as tears run down my cheeks from the most intense orgasm I've ever had.

"FUCK, baby." He groans and slams his mouth against mine. I kiss him back as he rides out his orgasm.

He pulls out of me slowly and softly kisses my lips one more time. I go to put my shorts on and he stops me.

"Not so fast, doll." He gets down on his knees in front of me, pushing my legs apart in front of him. "Push daddy's cum out baby. Let me see it drip out of you."

I do as he says and the feeling of his warm seed running down my legs is almost enough to send me over the edge again.

"Look. At. THAT." He swipes up some of his cum from my leg onto his finger and stands back up but not before gently kissing my new tattoo.

I think I love this man.

He rubs his finger along my lips until my mouth opens for him. I suck his fingers clean and moan at the taste of him.

"Y/n." He pushes my hair behind my ear and looks at me seriously. "I meant it when I said I care about you."

"You care about all your students."

"Yeah, but I don't go sticking my dick in them." He smirks and takes my hand, leading me back into the shop.

The others must have already left when - when.. oh.. shit.

"Negan, do you think they saw us?!"

"Well darlin', I was fucking your brains out right next to the door, so I think it's probably safe to assume so." He grins and my eyes widen with horror.

"Do you not care?"

"What can they do, doll? Fire me?" He laughs and leads me to the back where his office is.

"What are we doing in here?"

"Getting matching tattoos, of course."

I stare at him, trying to register what he just said. "You're.. going to give yourself a tattoo?"

He chuckles and hands me a tattoo gun before taking off his shirt and sitting on the couch in the corner.

"No, doll, you are."

The Enddd.

Part 2 or nah?

700 notes · View notes

ravensmadreads · 8 months

Text

Unhinged totally unasked for thots about Riding Pedro Boys

Authors Note: So this came from me chugging entirely too many energy drinks and then projectile vomiting in Taylors inbox. I'd like to warn you that: English isn't my first language, I have never written smut before, I'm not a real writer, and also I'm trash goblin levels of unhinged about this. That being said; Enjoy and uhh. Forgive me Fandom

JAVIER PEÑA

Javier Pena doesn't let you do it.

Don't @ me LISTEN! (YES I STARTED OFF WITH A CONTROVERSIAL THOT FUCKING BITE ME.)

That man does not have the time, or the patience, or the good sense (the sense is at the other end) to let you ride. He needs the control okay? And sometimes it's not even about the control ! It's the frustration. It piles and piles and piles until he snaps. He needs to do. He will bend you over and work his frustration away until he has had enough and you let him because he needs it. (And lets be real he makes it worth your while every single time)

BUT. When he finally fucking retires, and gets a ranch, and breaths air not tinged with the smells of death, cigarettes and guns for the first time in however many years, and maybe drinks some fucking water, he takes you out on a date. He fumbles through the entire thing, panics because he thinks he blew it, still manages to get you home, gets ridden for the first time in like 6 years, and can't walk straight for an entire day and stammers every time someone asks him why.

JAVIER GUTIERREZ

Javi G loves it. He loves watching you. Gets all puppy dog wide eyed (remember the pool scene face??? Thats it.) and you have to really focus because his look of straight up wonder and awe and bright eyed eagerness makes you want to cry. He's panting like he's running a marathon, running his big hands EVERYWHERE he can reach. He makes you feel worshipped and adored and so very very loved. Thanks you after. For being so amazing, and so wonderful to him, and thanks the universe that he found you. Cause he's sap. You definitely cry after.

JOEL MILLER

(Watch me be controversial again) Joel is fucking tired okay? He has old man bones and creaky joints and his back is achy. Patrol was agony, Jesse wouldn't shut up the entire time, and Tommy was giving him shit, and he has no energy to drill anyone into the mattress (as much as we all want him to). He's just plain tired. He likes you on top. Likes it slow (like a roast chicken on a sunday slow). Enjoys the gradual build up, likes to lean back, watch with half open eyes as you take your time. Wants to indulge in something beautiful at the end of the world, and that something is you. He makes sexy grunting noises, mutters a whole lot of praise ~and filth~ and just y'know. Savours it. 🫠🫠🫠 savours you. 🫠

DIETER BRAVO

Dieter is a maniac. (Leave him alone he has adhd!!) He can't still still for the life of him so you best believe he changes positions 6 times and the only way you're getting to ride is if you're also putting some weight elsewhere. To hold him down! You squeeze his neck once and he MELTS. INSTANTLY. Loses all sense. Starts babbling and whimpering and making extremely pathetic noises. Will definitely buck up and whine. PRAISES YOU. BEGGING. LOUD NOISES.

MAX PHILLIPS

Max is a heathen. He just likes watching you bounce. That's it. That's the post :p

MARCUS PIKE

Marcus P is a romantic. He will be doing the whole "lean forward and try to get kisses in between" while also "moaning and maintaining eye contact" and he's holding you so tight , squeezing your sides and also muttering declarations of love. About how he wants a life with you, and a family, and a home, and a future. How he's going to "make you so happy baby, I promise I will, I swear to you". Doesn't let you off for from on top of him for atleast a half hour after; kissing all over your face and rubbing your back and petting your hair "I meant all of it sweetheart. I want all of you." shsbzgwgsvsg ilovehimsomuch and I've only ever seen gifsets of this man what is wrong with me

MARCUS MORENO

Marcus M is A MENACE. He wears his stupid glasses, and has his stupid shirt off, while he does stupid taxes/meeting plans in bed. You keep throwing side glances and getting increasingly wound up and he just has this gentle smirk but he's mostly ignoring you. You sidle up to him and maybe start kissing his jaw, laying gentle pecks down his neck, and he's still fukcungh working "Baby. I need to finish this. I'm sorry, you need to wait." But that smirk is still there and it's driving you crazy and maybe you keep kissing until you reach his *coughs* and then you're working on getting him interested. You can still hear the fucking pen scratching though and so you go deeper, and he raises an eyebrow. "be good now honey" You're settling in his lap and he has you sitting there until he has finished his paperwork with you whimpering and trying not to squirm because you want to be good you really do and you know he'll make it so much better but he feels so good and when he's finally finally done you get to move but you're so wound up you can't pull yourself together enough to find a rhythm and you're nearly in tears and he has to grip your sides and murmur instructions in your ear and help you until you're satisfied and just when you think he's done, and about to flip you over, he adjusts his grip and starts moving from underneath you until you're crying and he's finished ~which doesnt happen until you've come 2 more times~

DAVE YORK

Dave. Oh my gosh Dave. Dave is a strict dom if ever there was one. With him it's a punishment. He'll tell you to hold off until he's done which is freaking impossible with how deep he gets, and how he likes to warm up his hands on your butt while you're trying desperately to hold onto that last thread of control. He is muttering absolute filth, holding your arms behind your back with one hand while the other is either laying smack after smack or rubbing you furiously all the while he's got the smuggest look. "Don't you dare baby. Be a good girl now. Listen and obey for once". But you can't because he's not fair and he knows it. And when you do finally fall apart he's clenching his teeth trying to hold back himself and his hands are holding you up as you gasp his name like it's the only word you know. He's running his hands down your back and kissing you softly and helping you catch your breath and when you finally get your heart to stop pounding and look up at him, he's watching you with this dangerously soft smile and he goes "oh you're in for it now aren't you honey?" and kisses your forehead while you try not to whimper.

FRANKIE MORALES

Frankie is a soft boy. He loves it. Craves it. He loves giving up control. Wants you to tie him up and have your way until he has no thoughts left in that pretty little head. He is swearing like an absolute sailor the entire time, calling you ma'am, begging to be released so he can kiss you and touch you, absolutely nearly breaks the head board once he was so desperate. Wants to be edged but also is the biggest WIMP about it. Will pout and swear and beg and plead but then want you to deny him again. Will definitely be mumbling absolute nonsense once you're done. Needs all the aftercare. Blushes pink when he gets it. Wraps himself around you like a HUGE koala bear after. ~and returns the edging favour 3 times over when he gets in his Captain Francisco Morales Mood~

JACK DANIELS

BONUS TWO I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT and tumblr won't let me put gifs for:

Jack makes every single cowboy joke known to man. You have to put your hand on his mouth to get him to shut the hell up. His eyes get all glassy when you do. He puts his hat on top of your head and busies himself in your neck (dual benefits: A. He shuts up and B. HICKIES) will definitely drag you on top of him in his Bronco (he likes to show off) will pull up on the side of the road almost 70% of the times you drive together. Bites you over your clothes. Loves the way you grab desperately at this leather jacket. Definitely makes you bend over and 'clean up the mess sugar' before driving like the hounds of hell are after him all the way back home and doing it all over again because "we gotta make you a mama now love"

PERO TOVAR

Pero got married after he came back and retired as a sell sword. His wife is a soft but sassy thing who's a little (read: not at all, she returns his snark twice over) intimidated by him but also thinks he's a good man because he saved her village from raiders. She has seen him grumble and snark at but then also share his food with the orphans who works at the village inn. She's inexperienced (let me live my victorian life) and he doesn't really think he deserves her but also he's not so much an idiot to say no to someone like her. She's the village "healer" and he met her when he got stabbed by one of the raiders (arm wound: not serious.) He has to teach her. She gets shy and flustered, which is a total 180 from her sassy self, and Pero loves it. She makes the most amazing sounds that have him thinking that maybe he did something right in his life to end up in her arms. She wants to please her new husband and asks her married friends for advice and they tell her about this new position. So she asks him, stuttering and tripping over words, if she could try something she heard about? From a friend? She straddles him and Pero loses his mind. He's closing his eyes and clenching his jaw so hard and she's whimpering in the most DELICIOUS way and he's trying so hard to hold back and let her take her pace and she's so worried "am I not doing it right?" Pero has to take 3 deep breaths before he's centred enough to answer and then he helps her. Puts his hands on her hips to guide her. Puts one of her hands on his shoulder "steady now pequenita" and puts the other low on her belly and presses in so she can feel him. Loves the way she cries out. Bends forward to leave little marks everywhere he can reach. She's scrambling at his chest, leaving nail marks he loves, and finally grabbing his hair and pulling until he groans. And when they're both done and sated and sweaty he kisses her, looks her in the eye and winks. "I'm going to have to go thank your friend now, mi esposa."

DIN DJARIN

Din and you dont have time. The razor crest is finally in hyperspace, you got shot at for the 50th time in 2 weeks, (because Murphys Law seems to be the only law Mando never breaks), you're exhausted, sweaty, and the giggly green monster of chaos only made you chase him down from the top of a weapons cabinet twice before he finally decided to take a nap. You're frustrated, and in desperate need of a shower, and a nap, but also you can't get the image of Mando fighting out of your head. Before you know it, the hormones have taken over and you're attacking him in the pilot seat. The bucket is off (I refuse to look at my own reflection in the tin cans helmet while we do the do), he's got you arching into him, your shirt is half torn from the top because Din refuses to wait for "so many fucking buttons Meshla" the gloved hand is squeezing the back of your neck, his mouth is on your chest, his other hand (you only managed to get one glove off) is splayed out on your back. You're riding him like you're trying to break him and his thigh holster? thing (do i look like i can figure out what they're called?) is digging marks into your skin but you're too turned on to care. It's frantic, it's messy, you're PRAYING the tiny green menace stays asleep as you do your best to muffle your sounds. The refresher isn't big enough for a round two, (you still do your best), and your legs feel like jelly, when you finally pass out; curled up on top of the human space heater while he hums Mando'a in your ear.

*****

TAGGING: @chronically-ghosted (you are a menace but ily)

@fuckyeahdindjarin (here I go trying that writing thing again, stop me pls)

#raven writes #i apologize for all of this #idk what came over me #i was possessed #and taylor refused to sedate me #javier pena x reader #dieter bravo x reader #javier gutierrez x reader #joel miller x reader #marcus moreno x reader #marcus pike x reader #dave york x reader #pero tovar x reader #din djarin x reader #max phillips x reader #frankie morales x reader #jack daniels x reader

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angelrari · 9 months

Text

emotional bruises · pt. iv

lando norris / carlos sainz x singer!reader

faceclaim: emilia mernes

a/n; hello! i just wanted to tell you i'm travelling so i'll try to update as much as i can, but somedays i won't have access to wifi. i left this part scheduled so i'm sorry if i didn't tag somebody. also there's such a big written part here and i just hope my english is fine! and once again tysm for the comments and reading this! it makes my heart full ❤

ps. carlos is coming i promise!!

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yourusername

liked by jennierubyjane, francisca.cgomes and 1,893,071 others

yourusername hi barbie! 💗

view all 16,280 comments

jennierubyjane gonna miss you like crazy

yourusername i'm gonna keep calling you until you get tired of me

jennierubyjane never!!

username she's so unbothered exactly

· · · · ·

"i don't think lando is a bad guy". you said and jennie quickly raised her gaze. "a terrible boyfriend, but a good person overall".

"y/n, you know there has to be a reason why he decided to say that on tv. and i do agree that he's a nice person to everyone else, but he wasn't to you, at least not during the last months of your relationship".

"i know, but-"

"look. i think there are two- three reasons why he said what he said. one, his pr team are tired and decided to try to save his reputation. two, he's very aware that you two are gonna be in the same city soon and he's gonna hit you up. three, he's trying to get inside your head now you said you're doing well. if there wasn't a reason behind this, he'd skipped the question".

"do you think he wasn't honest then?"

"y/n, has he texted you since that day? when you broke up?" she asked and you quickly shook you head. "then no, he's not being honest. what would've you done if it was the other way around? if it was you and it truly was a mistake?"

"it depends on how he would've reacted, but i've probably tried to save the relationship somehow".

"right. he hasn't. we both know he gave up on this relationship way before that happened. one day you were the love of his life and the next day he didn't remember to text you back. y/n, enough is enough".

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yourusername

liked by rosalia.vt, lilymhe and 1,541,971 others

yourusername had a tiny break before going to singapore (don't worry i'm getting on a plane now). i have a feeling this weekend we're gonna have so much fun ️‍❤️‍🩹

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username don't ask me the color of anything

username i bet lando is throwing a fit rn

lilymhe can't waitttt for our date👯

username what about alex?

lilymhe y/n first!!

yourusername

liked by francisca.cgomes, lilymhe and 1,122,829 others

yourusername i think i'm gonna regret posting these pics tomorrow but i missed these girls so much ️‍❤️‍🩹

view all 12,139 comments

username omg the wags are reunited???????

username shut up i'm gonna cry

danielricciardo i'm gonna have to pick heidi up right?

username correct!! (and me too)

danielricciardo then i'm not going! (i'll be there in 30 mins)

username you're the besttttttttt

danielricciardo please stop drinking

· · · · ·

a girl's night out was exactly what you needed (or at least that's what lily thought). so she planned a gorgeous dinner at a fancy restaurant on the rooftop of a huge building and invited kika, heidi and carmen. laughter filled most part of the night (except when your ex was brought up), the bartender kept bringing new cocktails to the table and you swore you hadn't felt this happy in a while.

earlier heidi had figured out you were staying at the same hotel as her (and daniel), so she offered you to join them on their way back as he would be picking her up.

daniel couldn't stop joking about how drunk the both of you were. he adored you, you were always kind and caring, and he always loved your friendship with heidi. so when he realized that you didn't know that lando and you would be staying at the same hotel he decided to keep his mouth shut, knowing it would ruin the night for you.

at the hotel, you hugged your friends as you wished them good night, since they were staying in a different part. you took the elevator and waited until it reached your floor. your heart felt so full because you'd just spent such a wonderful night. but when door's opened and you saw the face of the man you once loved you couldn't stop yourself from saying out loud:

"fuck".

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taglist: @roseseraj @katcontrreras @boiohboii @eugene-emt-roe @inesven @jjsprobablywrong @nooshytushie @willowpains @shessthunderstoms @thecubanator2 @black-swan-blog27 @sltwins @peachiicherries @ietss @elliegrey2803 @be-your-coffee-pot @leclercloml @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @nooshytushie @incoherenciass

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zwedexx · 2 months

Text

AWFC x English-Italian Reader - Chapter 2

Summary: Reader is dealing with the effects of their concussion

TW: concussion, alcohol, maybe depression

WC: 1232

A/N: Sorry for taking ages, i was productive today so here is chapter 2. Do i hate it.. kinda. also to make it clear, the reader takes more medication than needed because they forgot they were taking them due to memory loss. also if you wanna chat abt anything i've written, my asks are always open. Also not proof read

It has only gone downhill since your conversation with Leah. You were only able to talk to her because the effects of the medications they had used to stabilize you hadn’t fully worn off yet. But once they did, the doctors refused to give you more. You weren’t new to concussions, and you knew that they weren’t going to give you anything because they needed to monitor your symptoms, but the pain had never been this bad. The smallest amount of light or sound would make it feel as though you were being stabbed right through your frontal lobe.

Your teammates tried to help by being there for you, but they were doing everything but helping. They would always seem to make your pain worse, and you hated it. There was a big part of you there that wanted your chosen family to be there right by your side, to make you feel better like they had last year when you got COVID. But you couldn’t take them right now. It hurt you too much to tell them to their face, so you had the nurses and medical staff prevent them from visiting you.

The only good thing to come from your self-imposed isolation was that none of them knew of your diagnosis.

“I don’t want you to get too alarmed, but based on your current symptoms and seizure, it’s looking ever more likely that it will be too dangerous to continue playing football.” The doctor had informed you once that you were able to communicate without being in total agony.

You stayed silent; you did know what to say.

“It's not a definite conclusion, but we have to consider the severity of your symptoms and the potential risks involved,” the doctor continued. “We will monitor your condition closely, but I want you to understand that there's a real possibility that returning to the game could pose serious health risks, both in the short and long term.”

You stayed silent, absorbing the weight of the doctor's words.

The doctor's words felt like an assault on your very existence. Football wasn't just a game; it was your lifeblood, the essence of who you were. It was the only thing keeping you going at times.

Only a few days before Christmas were you discharged from the hospital. All the older teammates offered you a place to stay. Viv and Beth were the first.

"Look, I know you might not want to burden anyone, but we're a team. We look out for each other," Beth said, concern etched on her face as she walked beside you.

“Our guest room is always open to you." Viv continued

Leah had offered the same. And you gave them all the same bullshit story.

“Guys, I’ll be fine. My parents are coming to take care of me. They’ll be here tomorrow. Go enjoy your holidays.”

“If you ever need anything, don’t be afraid to ask. We’re all here for you if you need us.” Kim said.

Part of you really wanted their help. Part of you wished they would force you to stay at their houses. But the part that was against it was stronger.

When you finally got home, there was no one waiting for you. You sort of chuckled to yourself. Your parents were never going to come take care of you, but your teammates didn’t know that. Your parents weren’t bad people, but you hadn’t left it off on the best of terms. It all started when you were young, you hung out with the ‘wrong kind of people’, you got into a lot of trouble, and you did bad things. As young as 13, you would go out late at night with your friends and sneak into abandoned buildings or construction sites to drink and smoke. In your mind, these were the nights of your life. Your parents were quite absent from your life; they were far more interested in their businesses and enterprises, and those people took an interest in you. They wanted you around; they could make you feel like you belonged.

It took you being arrested for being drunk, disorderly, and almost OD’ing for them to figure out you’d been sneaking out for over a year. That was the first time you’d really disappointed them.

Only a few months later, you’d disappoint them again after you had taken up drinking again, this time with a new group of people. That’s when they started to realize that you might be the problem.

The final nail in the coffin came when you decided to sign with Arsenal. Your parents couldn’t understand why you’d ever do such a thing. They only saw it as another stupid mistake to add to your long list. They could have stopped you, but at that point, they didn’t care anymore. Only a week after you’d signed, they’d fully moved to Milan.

The first few days at home were fine; at least that’s what you thought. You were on track, you took your medications every day, and you didn’t put too much strain on yourself. You ate healthy and went on walks. You were ready to do anything to get back to the sport you loved. Anything.

It was the day before Christmas Eve when you realized your 10-day supply of medications was almost done. You couldn’t believe it; you had taken the correct amount every day, or at least that’s what you remembered.

You thought you could do it. You thought you could make it through the holidays without medication, but you were wrong—so very wrong. The days stretched out in a seemingly never-ending cycle of pain. The relentless headaches intensified, and you weren’t able to cope with the unmedicated effects of a concussion this severe.

You tried to reach out to the pharmacy, hoping for an early refill or something to manage your symptoms, but the holidays meant it was closed. You debated calling your teammates, even getting as close as dialing Beth’s number, but as the phone rang, you second-guessed your decision. What would you say? How were you going to tell them you had lied to them and, due to your stupidity, had put yourself in another predicament.

It wasn’t long after you made that call that the isolation and pain became far too much. Over the past few days, thoughts of turning to an old friend returned.

You were Italian; by nature, there was always a bottle of something in your house; it had never tempted you until now. Football was always there, replacing it in a way nothing had ever done for you. But that solace has been taken from you now. The promise of a temporary escape from all the pain was undeniable.

You hesitated, holding the bottle in your hand. You uncapped the bottle, and the scent of grappa, your common poison of choice, wafted through the air. You took a sip, surrendering to the pain.

The first sip was sharp, with the burn racing down your throat and the warmth quickly spreading through your chest. The level in the bottle dropped steadily, and with it, the pain was momentarily forgotten. With each passing moment, the effect intensified.

It wasn’t long before you were free. You felt nothing and were worried about nothing. You knew you could be putting both your concussion and alcohol recovery in danger, but you didn’t care anymore.

#woso #women's football #woso x reader #arsenal wfc #arsenal women #women's soccer #woso fanfics #beth mead #leah williamson #vivianne miedema #katie mccabe #kim little

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moonlight-prose · 6 months

Text

✧ SWEETENED BREATH AND TONGUE SO MEAN✧

a/n: this has got to be in the top three of my favorite kinktober fics i've written. i don't know what it is about hozier and the early hours of the day, but that shit is godlike. i'm drinking it down like my favorite fucking wine and getting tipsy. joel and religious trauma go hand in hand if you ask me. and that's what this. filthy ass religious trauma from yours truly. enjoy.

day twenty-five: oral fixation | kinktober 2023

summary: "joel couldn’t fathom what you saw in him. a man bloodied with the ravages of life. he’d taken life, killed to survive, and there were times he even fucking enjoyed it. but you were soft. you were the good that remained. the light he shouldn’t be allowed to tarnish."

word count: 1.5k+

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, oral fixation, gratuitous prose of giving joel head, oral (m receiving), spit play, throat bulge, dirty talk, cum play, cum eating, joel has a filthy fucking mouth, religious trauma metaphors courtesy of an english lit degree i've got to use somehow.

He loved your mouth.

The soft supple feel of your lips, the taste of your favorite watermelon gum on your tongue. The heat that seemed to seep directly into him when you kissed him. Shit he even liked the sticky gloss you smeared on every day—the sweetness of it a tang he could never get enough of. He loved how it stuck to his lips. How even after you were gone he still had the feel of it burned into him.

Joel licked at his own lips when you pulled away, chest heaving as you slid to the ground. Your fingers worked the buckle of his belt, teeth digging into your shiny bottom lip and Joel felt the breath in his lungs vanish. Before he could even ask how your day was you’d perched yourself on his lap all pretty and ravishing. Hell before he could even take a breath, your lips had found his. A saccharine moan being pressed into his mouth.

You pulled him free, sucking in a sharp breath at the sight of his cock swollen and dripping for you. Always for you. And it made his eyes drag down to your lips. How they were parted as you took in another deep breath. How they practically begged to wrap around his throbbing cock.

“‘S that what you need?” he asked roughly, pinching your chin to tilt your eyes back to his.

A shaky breath left you, eyes sliding shut as his thumb ran across your bottom lip. You were quick to take it into your mouth. Suck on it like that alone was his cock. Like you’d never get the chance to have him in your mouth again.

“Yeah that’s what you need.” He groaned, feeling the wet heat of you pull him in. You were a fucking siren and he had no choice but to answer your call. “Just need somethin’ to fill that pretty mouth of yours.”

You whined, fluttering your lashes at him. Joel couldn’t think straight. The sight of you kneeling before him, desperate for him. It rocked him to his core every time you reminded him how much you desired him—how much you’d do anything for him.

“Fuck darlin’.” He felt his body jolt when your teeth scraped the skin of his thumb—your lips tugging into a small grin. A sight that had him ready to be the one on his knees.

“I like the taste of you,” you mumbled.

He huffed. “Addicted to it aren’t ya.”

You nodded, hand finally wrapping around his cock. The pure bliss was nearly too much—like a shot of adrenaline through his heart. He hissed through his teeth, thumb hooking into your mouth and opening it wide—showing the spit that was ready to spill free. Joel liked you like this. Messy. Ready to do what he asked of you because for some reason unknown to him…it made you happy.

“Well go on then,” he said softly, letting you go and sliding his wet thumb along your cheek. “Taste me.”

A moan broke free from your lips as you shuffled closer, hand gripping him just the way he’d do it himself. He barely had time to gather himself before your lips were wrapping around his head. Tongue sliding through his slit, gathering the shiny precum that beaded up at the top—ready to drip down if you waited any longer.

He went lax on the couch, head falling back into the cushion, a deep groan reverberating from low in his chest.

God, he loved your mouth.

You were gentle with it at first. Delicately kissing down his length as if he was something to worship. As if getting on your knees for him was your own form of religion. Joel couldn’t fathom what you saw in him. A man bloodied with the ravages of life. He’d taken life, killed to survive, and there were times he even fucking enjoyed it. But you were soft. You were the good that remained. The light he shouldn’t be allowed to tarnish.

Yet even that he enjoyed. The thought of staining you with his darkness—of being the mark on your soul you’d keep forever.

At least then he’d know what the word permanent meant to him again.

You took him further, the wet heat of your mouth causing his mind to go fucking numb. He felt his body shudder, fingers digging into the back of your neck to keep himself grounded. A stunted moan dragged itself up from his chest, mouth dropping open to suck in a deep breath as the head of his cock hit the back of your throat. You gagged prettily, spit trailing down to the coarse hair at the base of him, and Joel felt like he was in heaven.

“That’s it, sugar,” he said drunkenly. “You can take all of it can’t you?”

Your nails scratching along his denim clad thighs, throat expanding to let more of him in. Joel gasped, his stomach clenching at the sensation. It sent heat shooting up his spine, an aching bliss that was desperate to spill free. You were so fucking good. So beautiful with your mouth stretched wide, tears trailing down your cheeks as you fought to keep yourself still.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he spit, his whole body going stiff.

He slid his hand down, feeling the bulge in your throat and he had to fight back the wave of heat that threatened to drown him. Pulling off you gasped in a breath, hand pumping him quickly, spreading your spit right down to his balls.

“I should take a picture.” Your eyes met his, the glazed fucked out look stealing whatever breath remained in his lungs. “Keep it in my wallet. Right at the front.”

Your teeth dug into your bottom lip, a hoarse moan echoing up to his ears.

“Yeah you’d like that darlin’. I’ll let everyone see it. Let em know you’re all fucking mine.”

Your chest heaved, lips parting to take him back in your mouth and Joel could feel the last strands of his control strip away. Sliding back in felt like a home he didn’t know he could have again, a reminder that he was still wanted. You moaned around his length, thighs pressing together, and Joel felt himself give over to the pleasure.

“Shit,” he gritted, digging his fingers into the back of your neck as he spilled right down your throat. A broken shout ripping from his throat.

“Fuckin’ take all of it darlin’.” His hips thrust up into your mouth, causing you to splutter, his cum spilling out slightly and down your throat. “My messy fuckin’ girl. Can’t even handle all my cum. ‘S okay I’ll feed it to you. Make sure you take every drop.”

Letting him go, you watched as the last of his release spilled onto your hand that continued to pump him. Wringing every last bit of pleasure from his body. He arched off the couch slightly, a fractured sound filling the room. It sunk into you like a poison. Delved between your nerves and dragged the need you tried to tamp down up your throat. It clawed at you and you had no choice but to heed to its call.

“Joel,” you whimpered, voice cracked and low.

But just the sound of it grabbed his attention as he came back down. His cum now tracking along your throat. A shiny mess that had his cock twitching in desire. He grinned, eyes glazed over with lust, and dragged his fingers through the mess you made. Until they pressed against your lips.

You took them happily. A soft moan breaking free.

“That mouth,” he mumbled in awe. Your tongue swirled around the digits, the tang of him permanently etched on your tongue.

Every drop that landed on your tastebuds only made your need grow and Joel could see it etched on your face. The desire clear in your body language. You were standing on a thin line, your control nearing its very end. Which is why he pulled his fingers free. A small grin formed on his face when you chased them slightly, eyes fluttering open.

“Don’t worry darlin’.” He cupped your face, smiling softly at your needy expression. “You’ll get em back. Just wanna make you feel good.”

You sighed, breath stuttering. That feeling dug into your chest, screaming for more and Joel was more than happy to give into its wants. He had stained you with his cum, with the destruction he caused. The pain that devoured him whole. Yet now it was your turn to do the same. To fill him with that sweetness that had become his life line.

His reason for being.

“You gonna let me?” he asked softly, drawing you up until those lips that haunted his fucking dreams were mere inches away from his own. He could feel your breath wash across his face, filling him with vitality.

You grinned, fingers clutching at his shirt as you took your rightful place on his lap. A goddess perched on her throne.

“Yes.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller #joel miller smut #the last of us fic #my writing #kinktober 2023 #pedrostories

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a-nemoiia · 3 months

Text

「 The old times 」

・Thomas Shelby x Reader・

Note: Can I write? No. Have I ever written anything before? No. But here's to new things. (English isn't my first language so I apologise in advance for any mistake)

Plot: Thomas Shelby finds himself face to face with someone from the past he had left behind long ago

Word count : around 1.6k

Warnings: None

Thomas's childhood seemed a lifetime ago or so he felt until now, while attending the Epsom race a glimpse of a familiar face stopped Thomas in his tracks. A face he hadn't seen since before the war, the face of the girl who had lived nearby and managed to force her way into little Tommy's life from the first day she stepped a foot in the neighbourhood where he lived, and then proceeded to share with him the long days of his childhood.

That was until Thomas decided to push her away...

Over the years Thomas had grown closer to y/n, closer than he ever intended. He knew what that feeling was, that warmth blossoming in his chest everytime she smiled and it frightened him, just as much as the possible threats of the uncertain future did.

So Thomas decided to take matters into his own hand, making sure to leave what they had behind, while breaking Y/n's heart in the process, he managed to turn the bond they once shared into nothing but a memory.

And as if he was telling fortune, what he feared happened not too long after when young y/n had to move out of Birmingham with her father, vanished without a trace after longing for Tommy's goodbye that never came.

Now here she was again after all these years, as beautiful as the memories of her which his heart still held tight to, making it the only good thing in his bleak world. "Thank you" she thanked the man behind the bar once he poured her drink, y/n took a sip hoping it'd help with the discomfort she felt in this place. she shifted her weight from one leg to the other, clearly overwhelmed by the noises around her but just when she was about to leave she heard the man next to her speak.

Thomas knew he should keep his distance, leaving the past in the past, but something compelled him to approach her, so he found himself walking over to her. He leaned against the bar and looked at the familiar woman, no longer the little girl she once was, with muddy shoes and scrapped kness.

"... It's been a long time...What brings you back after all this time?" the question escaped him. Y/n turned around to face the man standing next to her, she frowned her eyebrows in confusion, before she responded "I'm sorry...Do you know me?" she asked.

When the realization hit Thomas his heart heart sank, she didn't remember him... He took a moment to compose himself, licked his lips and straightened his posture, no longer looking at her, he said "My bad, sweatheart... It seems I mistook you for someone else. My apologies" he lit a cigarette between sentences to calm his troubled thoughts, Thomas couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment, but he managed to hide it well behind the usual cool facade "May I ask what brings you here today?"

"I'm here with my boyfriend, He's got a horse in the race" she answered as she looked about her surroundings in an attempt to avoid the man's heavy gaze on her. Thomas raises an eyebrow, intrigued by the mention of the said boyfriend. He leaned against the bar slightly, with a low voice he asked "A horse in the race, you say? Well...What's the name of the horse? Perhaps I've heard of it." the hint of jealousy he felt hiding well behind the curiosity in his tone.

"It's 'Wonder'. what about you... What brings you here? Got a horse in the race yourself?" y/n's gaze finally returned to his steel one, he nodded as he took a drag of his cigarette, "I do 'Grace's Secret', she's a beauty. But I'm afraid my interests goes beyond horses and betting tonight"

Thoughtfully, she repeated the name "Grace's secret...a woman then?Judging by the name." she asked watching a smirk display itself on the gentleman's face" you've got quite the intuition" He turned fully to address the lady next to him "Apologies, I didn't introduce myself properly. My name's Thomas Shelby. But around here, most people just call m-" Thomas took a moment to process y/n's reaction, he noticed a smile tug at her lips, a smile not with surprise, but familiarity the she masked well minutes ago.

Tracing the rim of the empty glass, she looked down ".... Been a long time, Tommy" she finally said, barely above a whisper, as if she's talking to herself more than him, "indeed, 15 years." Thomas added, as if he had counted every night since the day he made the decision for both of them, "15 years..." y/n found herself echoing, feeling the weight of these lost years. They both held gaze for a few seconds, no words came, as if silently grieving their stolen youth, mourning what should've been.

Suddenly, Thomas's gaze flickered behind y/n, making her turn her head to see what caught his attention, there near the stairs stood a blond woman, with her attention fixed on him just like his on her. "excuse me, I have to go" Thomas felt a pang of regret as he watches y/n expression change. He stubbed his cigarette as he hurried towards the he blonde head woman.

Y/n stood there and watched them disappear into the crowd, feeling a twinge of disappointment, she scoffed to herself, thinking about how dared to break her heart years ago just to simply allow someone else to fill her place "Bastard..." she whispered under her breath, surprised at how easy it is to reopen old wounds.

With the start of the race, the crowd around her thinned, y/n inhaled a deep breath and took a seat at on of the tables, not sure of what she's waiting for, or whom she's waiting for, lost in her thoughts she failed to notice the blond head taking a seat opposite from her until she spoke "Betting or participating?" the blond lady asked, her gaze fixed a head "neither" y/n answered briefly.

Silence stretched before she spoke again. "My name's Grace, by the way. I couldn't help but notice you earlier with Thomas" she turned her head, and her blue eyes landed on y/n. "so you're Grace huh?" y/n ask her, already aware of the answer "heard of me? Weird how Tommy never mentioned you" Grace said, with a hint of bitterness but y/n held firm "Only today." y/n answered frankly.

Grace pursed her lips and said "Thomas and I share history" She held her chin up as she stated, which made Y/n smirked slightly "History? must have been brief, I don't recall seeing you in Small Heath when I was around." Grace's jaw tensed slightly, her composure wavering "And neither were you when I knew him." she bit back, before she threw her last card "I'm carrying his child... He knows"

Her words felt like a splash of cold water, y/n felt the sharp pang of pain make it's way between her ribbs, but she remained composed, as her eyes drifted to Grace's hand resting on the table, y/n titled her head to the side as she spoke "I don't recall seeing one on Tommy's hand" referring to the ways wedding band on Grace's finger.

Startled, Grace quickly withdrawed her hands from view. As if it'll make her unsee it "He told me to wait for hi-" she began, but y/n cut her off "Tommy does love to keep people waiting, doesn't he?" y/n's gaze wandered around at the sight of the crowd leaving, announcing the end of the event. "Not me. Not when there's love." Grace spoke again, getting y/n's attention once more.

Letting out a quite sigh, y/n drifted her gaze to the worker writing down the race results on the board "Did you know Tommy could always spot a losing horse? That Rom blood in him..." y/n remarked. Just then, results were displayed in full view, as Grace's Secret placed third. Y/n's eyes met Grace's one last time. "I think luck might have abandoned the Irish today." With that, y/n held her purse and took her leave.

With hurried steps, y/n headed towards the gates, making her way out, eager to leave this place, but a tug on her arm halted her steps. "Y/n, wait!..." Thomas called for her "... Let's go talk somewhere, eh? Just you and I" he said, his blue eyes searching hers for approval, but y/n's were on the blonde women still seated where she left her, waiting just like he told her to.

looking back into Thomas's eyes, y/n pointed out "Always fond of keeping others waiting Tommy", Tommy's gaze shifted between the two of them, before his gaze settled on y/n "The worst already happened that night 15 years ago y/n..." His said, his voice heavy with regret.

Y/n fought with herself, her heart unable to deny the longing it felt to the man standing right before her eyes, feelings for him buried deep but never gone, she sighed "That was too long ago. things changed" but Thomas couldn't disagree less.

Shaking his head, Thomas took a step towards her, closing the distant, he softly spoke "No, no, not this, this never changed", Y/n looked up into his blue eyes, noticing how the ghost of a gentle smile tugged at his lips, before he whispered “How about we both keep them waiting this time? Come with me to Polly's house... just the both of us, like old times, eh?”

The shared memory from their old lifes and the simpler days, brought a smile to her lips. She found herself gently nodding "Just like old times, Tommy" she echod softly...

Taking his offered arm, they walked back to the house that once held them both, retracing their scattered memories across the familiar streets of small heath.

All kinds of criticism and advice are welcomed. I'm literally a lost puppy 🫶🏻

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #peaky blinder fanfic #tommy shelby fanfic

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tomhollandisabae · 1 year

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I've got a request! Ghost and reader on a mission together. They both have definite feelings for each other already. Reader gets shot and from Ghosts pov it looks fatal, but it isn't. Reader has to play dead to escape from the enemy and scares Ghost half to death in the process. THANK YOU

thank u so much for ur request love!!🥰🥰

faking- simon "ghost" riley x reader

masterlist

summary; as the mission goes on, you are forced to fake your death, hurting the man you love most.

warnings; angst, death, mentions of blood, mature language, violence, fluff, english is not my first language, unedited

words; 1.7k

a/n; doesn't follow the events of mw2, but there are some hints here and there

to clear things out MI5 works within the UK (MI6 is the opposite)

“Vox, report.” You heard ghost’s voice.

“I'm going in.” You replied.

“No, no. You stay where you are, you hear me? We didn't agree on that.” He insisted.

“Ghost there is no other way. It has to be done now. Over.”

The situation had as follows; you had organised an ambush on Graves and his team, while your top priority was to capture him and take him hostage to use him against Shepherd. However, your plan wasn't keeping up with theirs as much as you wanted, so you had to improvise. That's why you argued with Ghost and disobeyed his instructions, putting yourself at risk.

As you broke in you started taking down one soldier after the other, but sooner or later found yourself on your knees, putting pressure on the front of your thigh trying to prevent more blood loss as you had apparently been shot.

“Vox, what's going on?” Ghost’s worried voice sounded once again over the comms.

“I'm hit, but I'll survive.” You informed him.

“I'm coming in.”

“Ghost no, I'll be fine.” You insisted, but it had no result as you show him entering the building you were in and approaching you carefully, trying not to compromise himself.

“I told you not to do that. You didn't listen Y/n.” He spoke once he leaned down taking you in his arms and picking you up carefully making you hiss due to the pain.

“I'm sorry…” You responded weakly.

“Hey it's okay, you're going to be okay. Just keep your eyes open, can you do that for me doll?” He asked you, panic written all over his voice.

“Mhhm…” you murmured as you started feeling lightheaded.

“Y/n, Y/n” he shook you “I need a medic immediately! Vox is down!” He shouted over the comm.

“Simon…” you exclaimed his name slowly.

“Everything's going to be okay Y/n, you'll be okay. Please keep your eyes open.” He pleaded as his hands started trembling.

“I'm sorry, i'm so sorry…” a tear rolled down on your cheek.

“Medics are on their way.”

“You hear that darling, they're coming to save you.” He placed you down again, once you were outside the building.

“I'm really sorry…” you kept repeating over and over again.

“You don't have to be sorry about anything sweetheart, everything's fine. Just stay awake.” You could tell that under the mask a sad and hurt expression had overtaken his facial characteristics.

“I'm so…”

“No! No no no! Please no!” He took you in his arms and hugged you tightly as if he could keep you soul in from exiting your cold body.

When the medics finally arrived they found Ghost on his knees holding you as tight as he could, trying to memorise the way you felt for the rest of his miserable life. They tried to take you away from him and after a few tries they succeeded as Soap appeared from behind them, approaching Ghost and kneeling down next to him trying to comfort him, but it was too late.

Ghost had lost his last hope of life. He had lost you…

It took three months for the Task Force 141 to finally give an end to everything. They had accomplished their mission and were now celebrating in a small bar as they waited for Laswell to arrive, so she could congratulate them face to face.

Ghost never spoke to anyone, only when it was needed for the mission. He distanced himself from everyone and everything and promised himself to avenge for you death. As he did.

Now the team were having their time of their lives, when finally Laswell walked in.

“Hello boys.” She greeted them with a smile.

They all said their hellos back, apart from Ghost who just nodded towards her.

However, nobody noticed another figure entering the bar, behind Kate.

“It can't be…” Soap exclaimed shocked and everyone turned to him in question and he pointed towards the person behind Laswell.

“Vox?” Gaz said and Ghost head shot up feeling his heart racing.

“Hi” You finally waved at them appearing now next to Kate.

“How?” Price questioned.

“Sit down boys, we can't talk standing.” Laswell motioned towards the booth where everyone was sitting.

And they did so, as you sat down across from Ghost, not daring to look at him. You didn't know what to expect from him. You had left him, you broke him, making him think he had lost everything once again. You were his war partner, wanting to be his life partner eventually, but you betrayed him.

“So where should I start from?” Kate sighed.

“How's Y/n alive, no offence Y/n, I'm really glad your alive, but.. how?” He turned to you and you just nodded.

“Y/l/n works for the MI5, she's been a secret agent for the British army since the beginning of her career. When she was placed in Task Force 141, she had already agreed that her alliance would always be to MI5, so when she was asked to fake her death she couldn't do otherwise.” She began explaining “Y/n, you wanna continue? You know the situation better than anyone.” She asked you and you nodded.

“Yeah, umm… M asked me to get into the Shadow company swearing my allegiance to them, but to do so I had to make you all believe that I'm dead. I had approached Graves and talked to him about it. I promised him that I would be by his side and I would let him know everything about our team. Of course I had already spoken with M and we had agreed on what I would be giving away to him, most of them were false informations. So when I entered that building I had already a bag with fake blood on my foot and prosthetics above it to make it look real. I stabbed the bag and you know the rest… Once I was in the Shadow company I had found a way to secretly commuting with M and gave them all the information they needed. Graves trusted me with everything and I was beside him all the time. When he was finally killed, I was… well… brought back to life.” You said.

“Wow…” Soap was in awe.

“Badass.” Has smirked.

“That's a hell of sacrifice you did there Y/l/n. If they had found out, you'd be for real dead.” Price told you.

“I know, but I was extremely careful.” You smiled at him.

“So you were out secret informer” Soap raised his eyebrow.

“Don't think so. I was providing some information to the MI5, I guess M was talking with Kate and then passing the info to you.” You bit your lip.

“So badass” Soap agreed with Gaz.

Suddenly, Ghost rose up from his seat and walked out of the bar leaving you speechless.

“You should go talk to him. He went through a lot after what happened.” Soap looked at you.

“Yeah, I remember…” You exhaled as you had flashbacks of when he wouldn't let you go as the paramedics were trying to take you away from him.

You got up and finally went outside to find him leaning against a tree in the far back.

“Simon…” You breathed out his name as you approached him.

He didn't respond, didn't even look at you for a second.

“Simon I'm really sorry…”

“Yeah, you said so. Now it all makes sense, the way you were repeating that you were sorry over and over again, the fact that there was no funeral… it all makes sense now.” He shook his head.

“I had no other choice. You have to believe me.” You tried to reason with him.

“Everyone has a choice Vox.” It took you aback as he used your code name and not the real one. He would never call you that when you weren't in the battlefield.

“Well I didn't.” You raised your voice having enough at this point and he finally looked at you shocked.

“You don't know how it is to work for the secret services Simon. They have no morals. They used my fucking family. They had promised me that they would provide them protection as long as I was away for the mission, but they had captured them and threatening to kill them all in the name of saving thousands of other lives. As much as I love you Simon, I love my family too. I might not be able to have a decent relationship with you anymore, but at least you and my family are alive.” You cried out as words kept spilling out of your mouth.

“You love me?” He interrupted you after a while.

“I… yes Simon, I love you more than anything.” You wiped your tears away as you saw him walking up to you.

“Is your family okay?” He asked once he stood in front of you.

“Yeah” you shook your head positively “they're fine.”

“Good.” He placed his arms around your waist pushing you closer to him, making you gasp at the gesture.

“Simon…” you looked up at him.

“What about the MI5?” He asked you.

“I'm out. I don't work for them anymore.” You bit your lip nervously, but he placed his thumb on top of your lower lip, freeing it.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” You barely whispered.

“Good.”

What he did next was something that you never expected him to do. He lifted his mask, taking it off completely, revealing his beautiful face to you.

With your hands trembling, you placed them carefully on each side of his face.

“I love you Y/n.” He lowered his head, your lips only centimetres from each other.

“Please…” you pleaded.

“What do you want darling?” His lips brushed the crooner of yours softly.

“Kiss me.” Your eyes looked with his.

And he did so, finally connecting your lips in a so long awaited kiss. His soft once moving slowly on top of yours with so much care and love.

And that was just the beginning of a new chapter of both your lives.

Because you would leave a happy ever after, together and forever!

#fanfic #imagines #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley imagine #cod x you #cod x reader #codmw2022 #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost imagine

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