#about what other people would think or whatever | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vroomvro0mferrari · 12 hours

Text

LN4 | Panic at the Disco – Part 2

Summary: When you call your brother to pick you up from the club, it's his best friend who answers.

Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader

WC: 2.4K

Warnings: insinuated sexual harassment/assault

Part 1

Masterlist

Lando turns on the engine as you get settled in the haphazardly parked car. He glances at you while you move around in the seat, buckling your belt. He just now notices the streaks in your makeup, although you’d tried your best to wipe them away, and how your fingers can’t seem to keep still. They’re running along the belt before fidgeting with the hem of your dress. Lando reaches out and squeezes your hand gently. You meet his eyes, which are desperately trying to make contact with yours, and you shoot him a quick smile, one that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Your behaviour makes it clear to Lando that you’re not okay yet. His joking around cheered you up, yes, but as soon as you’re out of his hold, you feel the same way as before.

Although the drive back is not as fast as Lando’s five-minute record time, it was quick. The faint hum of the engine and the music playing softly on the radio are the only sounds breaking the quiet as you stare blankly out of the window. Lando can’t seem to keep his gaze off you for longer than a second, his eyes constantly flitting between the road and your face, concern etched in his features. Your silence is highly unusual behaviour; normally, you can’t shut up, always ready to pick a fight with Lando over whatever topic comes to mind first. The fact that you’re not saying anything makes him worry.

You know he’s onto you when you constantly feel the weight of his eyes on your face. It’s even more reason for you to keep your face as neutral as possible, to not show how much tonight has affected you, but it’s extremely difficult with all the thoughts racing through your mind. The silence in the car isn’t helping either, doing nothing to keep you distracted or to keep the thoughts at bay. You’re so glad that you got away from that man in time, that there were other people there to help you, and that Lando (although you would have preferred literally anyone else at that time) came to get you so quickly, but you can’t help but think what would have happened if those people hadn’t paid attention to you, or if you’d been stuck at the club for longer – would that man have come to find you? To finish what he started? The thoughts of what might have been, or what may still happen some other time in the future, freak you out and you’re sure Lando knows it. Regardless, he keeps quiet, unknowingly aggravating your inner turmoil. He’s waiting for you to initiate conversation instead, not wanting to say the wrong things and accidentally make it worse. He doesn’t know that, in your opinion, nothing he could say at his moment might be wrong; anything is better than the silence occupying the small space.

But you don’t tell him that, and so, Lando doesn’t say anything when you stay in your seat, still staring out of the window after he stops the car. He doesn’t say anything when he opens your door and offers his hand to help you out of the vehicle. He doesn’t say anything about the confused look on your face when you realise he’s no longer driving but instead standing next to you, or the fact that your hands haven’t stopped fiddling with the hem of your dress from the moment you stepped into the car. He keeps quiet until both of you are inside the apartment, not speaking until he’s closed the door.

“You want some tea?” He asks nonchalantly. As if everything is normal, as it should be when it feels like nothing is.

You merely nod and follow Lando into the kitchen, passing your brother who’s passed out on the couch in the living room. He had obviously not missed Lando while he was gone.

You watch as Lando fills the glass kettle with water and turns it on. He leans against the counter, opposite you, as you wait for the water to boil. You stare at the kettle while Lando looks at you, his gaze unwavering. Although it’s not unusual for Lando to look at you, stare at you, even, the intention behind it seems different; Lando’s never been so serious or concerned. Usually, when he looks at you like this, you’ve gone a little too deep into a discussion again, and he’s too stubborn to back down. He’ll keep staring at you, forcing eye contact as a way to challenge you, although you suppose that’s exactly what he aims to do now. He’s trying to persuade you, as always, but not of his opinion this time; he’s trying to convince you to talk to him. He only proves you right when he relents, “You know you can talk to me right? About anything? You know I won’t judge you for whatever happened tonight?” He raises his eyebrows as he questions you.

The kettle turns off but Lando keeps his eyes on yours for a bit longer before making the tea. While he busies himself, you let his words sink in. Even though you haven’t always gotten along well, he can read you like an expert. You know exactly what he’s searching for, that he wants to know the details you haven’t given him – because he knows you haven’t told him everything. But you’re not ready to.

Lando hands you one of the mugs he’s holding. You take it with both hands, in the hope of warming up a little, while you gently blow on the tea to cool it to a drinkable temperature.

“I know, Lan. It’s just… I don’t know, it’s been a rough night, and really, I don’t want to think about it anymore.” You admit, looking up through your lashes to find Lando already staring at you, again.

Lando accepts the response and nods. At least now you know how he feels about it – if you didn’t already. He inhales deeply before pushing off the counter and walking to the living room. “You coming?” He asks softly before heading off.

You follow, of course. Lando stares at the couch, occupied by your brother who’s snoring obnoxiously loud. He had already forgotten about the sleeping man completely blocking all the seating. He sips his tea while thinking. “So this is obviously not going to work,” He chuckles and you join him, “let’s just go to bed? It’s already pretty late anyway, and I’m sure you’re very tired.”

You nod, agreeing with his suggestion, “I could definitely use some sleep.”

“Alright, you can stay in the guest room. I guess you’re lucky Max’s asleep on the couch. Otherwise, it would’ve been a bit difficult. I only have one extra bedroom.” Lando tells you while leading the way to the room.

“Lucky after all.” You say, sipping your tea.

“This is yours for tonight, then.” He opens the door for you and lets you enter the room first. You carefully put your mug on a dresser and quickly kick off your shoes before letting yourself fall face-first onto the plush-looking bed. Lando watches from the door opening, leaning casually against the doorpost as he watches you cuddle into the duvet.

“I was worried about you tonight.” He admits after a moment of silence. You twist your body and turn your face so you can see him, but you keep quiet. You’re a little surprised at his confession. Of course, you’re friends (sort of, at least) and he did come to save you tonight, but you weren’t expecting him to tell you so blatantly. Although, you, too, would be worried about Lando if something happened to him or if he called you upset.

“You sounded so freaked out on the phone, it seriously stressed me out. I’ve never heard you so upset.”

You push yourself up, fully facing him, now. You’re not sure how to respond to something like this. You want to apologise, but Lando continues before you can.

“I… I know maybe I don’t show it so much – or at least, I think I haven’t made it clear to you – but, I care about you, a lot.”

You smile at his admission.

“Sometimes I think maybe I care about you too much. Too much for just being friends, at least.” He avoids your eyes while he says it, seemingly shrinking into himself as if he’s afraid of your reaction.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Lando shy like this. He’s always full of energy, extraverted and definitely not afraid to look you in the eyes. Hell, less than half an hour ago he was staring at you so intensely you were unable to look away. The highly unusual behaviour completely throws you off. But you imagine not saying anything will only make him more shy.

“Can you hand me my tea?” You finally ask him.

Lando stares at the ground a second longer. The only thought running through his head is how much he probably just screwed up your friendship, and possibly the one with your older brother, too. Seeing his reaction to your question, all you can think about is how what you just said was probably worse than saying nothing. He (sort of) admitted that he likes you, and you ask him to hand you your tea? What kind of person does that? Nevertheless, Lando walks into the room and grabs the mug off the dresser.

You get up on your knees while he moves closer to the bed. You don’t only grab your mug, but his as well once he gets close enough, and place them onto the bedside table next to you. Lando finally meets your eyes when your hands touch, the confidence and mischief usually apparent in his eyes replaced by vulnerability and honesty. You’re certain Lando can read the emotions showing on your face just as effortlessly as you can his, if not even more so. You feel uncertain and at a loss for words at the unfamiliar glance in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, that was stupid. I just… I don’t know what to say,” You finally admit, breaking the heavy silence in the room.

Lando’s lips curve into a hesitant smile and his eyes soften as he reaches out to brush a strand of hair from your face. “You don’t have to say anything,” He murmurs, gaze locked on his own hand moving along the side of your face as he pushes the hair back. You nearly melt at the sweet (or is it enamoured?) expression on his face as he looks at you – as if you’re the most precious thing in this world. Not to mention how close you are to each other right now.

“I want to say something though,” You whisper back, eyebrows furrowed and teeth nibbling on your bottom lip as you think of what to say.

“I care about you too, you know? A lot, also too much for a friend of my brother’s or just a friend, I think.”

A bigger smile spreads across Lando’s face at your confession, unbelievably happy to know you feel the same way as him. He moves his hand back to your cheek, running his thumb over your cheekbone softly, admiringly.

“I know this is probably really bad timing, with everything that happened tonight-”

“Please don’t mention it, I don’t want to think about it.” You breathe out, interrupting Lando.

“-but can I please kiss you?” He asks, moving his face a tiny bit closer to yours.

You nod quickly, without thinking. It’s like a reflex, like you need Lando to kiss you. Although you’ve been trying all night to forget about what transpired earlier, you can’t ignore or forget the way Lando made you feel when he held you, and how much you need to feel it again. He made you feel safe, protected and loved. No one has ever made you feel that way to such an extent, not your closest friends, your brother, or even your parents. If someone had told you yesterday that you felt the need to be kissed by Lando, you would have laughed in their face, but now, it was the only thing on your mind.

Lando leans in closer, drawing you near with the hand on your cheek. You brush your fingers along his face, tracing his jawline as his lips finally meet yours. He tenderly strokes your face before he moves his hand to the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair, while the other rests on your waist. You feel his eyelashes tickle your skin when he pulls you even closer, and it makes you feel so good. It feels so good to have someone who cares about you so much that they’d come in the middle of the night to save you, to make you feel safe and comfortable as soon as they touch you. You’re completely lost in the feeling Lando gives you, and the thought that you could have experienced this so much sooner if you hadn’t been so busy fighting with him.

Your lips move against his slowly while he holds you close. The butterflies in your stomach flutter when you feel his chest pressed to yours. Throwing your arms over his shoulders, you run your hands through his hair. Softly, you pull on his curls, revelling in the sensation of his kiss before you pull away. His lips look red and swollen when you open your eyes and you bite your lip at the sight. You admire his face, his mischievous smile, and the loving gaze with which he looks at you, and you’re sure you have to look the same way.

Your hands have moved down to Lando’s shoulders when you ask him, “You’ll stay with me?”

He squeezes your waist gently and kisses your forehead before murmuring, “Of course, anytime you want me to.”

You give him a quick kiss, which earns a smile in return, before pulling Lando onto the bed. He gets settled before you do, opening up his arms so you can cuddle into him. You scooch closer and nestle your face in the crook of his neck, closing your eyes and sighing softly once you’re comfortable. He pulls you closer to his body, holding you tight, before placing a kiss on the top of your head.

“Thank you, for tonight.” You whisper.

Lando pulls you just a little tighter, and mumbles sleepily “I’ll always come when you call, love.”

You smile, pleased with his answer before you drift off to sleep together, cosily snuggled up.

270 notes · View notes

greatooglymooglyyy · 1 day

Text

The Last Ride Chapter 9 (AU Cowboy!C.Sturniolo)

summary: when spoiled and sheltered city girl Y/N finds herself in running in the wrong crowd, her dad gives her an ultimatum. it's either spend the summer of her gap year on her uncle's ranch or face being cut off and finding a job. just when she thinks it can't get any worse, she meets Chris, the brooding farmhand who thinks he knows her type. but as the summer goes on, they both realize there may be more to the other than meets the eye.

requested and advised by @rootbeerworshiper

contains: cursing, physical fight, verbal altercation, crying, cheating, lots of emotions, kissing, smut!, 6.9k words

a/n: holy shit y'all this is long. sorry. also links aren't working so you might have to go to the browser if you need the masterlist. love y'all

series masterlist

The silence doesn’t last long around us as Uncle Buck and Dad come running towards the commotion. But Chris doesn’t react to their shouts, leaning down and grabbing Jace up by his shirt. I finally make myself known, going to kneel beside Jace until one of Chris’ friends grabs my arm and shakes his head.

“Say it again.” Chris almost begs, his voice dark and dangerous like he’s looking for a reason to hit him again.

Jace’s eyes spew pure hatred back and he curls his lip up in disgust. “Get your fucking hands off me. Do you know who I am?”

“I think you’re a fucking baby who doesn’t know how to respect women.”

For whatever reason that causes Jace to get more upset, as if it isn’t partially true. I feel frozen, like I’m watching a movie unfold in front of me and there’s nothing I can do to affect what happens.

Jace attempts to get up, it’s unclear whether or not he’s trying to get back at Chris again or just simply standing up but the boy on top of him isn’t having any of it.

Chris slams Jace back into the ground, pushing his back into the slightly rocky dirt. “Let me get up asshole” Jace spits out, clearly embarrassed by the crowd of people watching him get his ass kicked.

All that can be heard is a petty laugh from Chris as he looks down at Jace one last time. “Nah. Go ahead. You’re tough. Speak about her that way again and see what happens, pretty boy.”

For once in Jace's entire life… he’s silent. He just looks to the side to avoid eye contact as Chris gets off of him. I thought this was the end, that the nightmare was over, but of course, it’s Jace we’re talking about.

“That bitch would never even like you.” Jace mumbles under his breath, eyes still trained on anything but Chris.

Unsurprisingly Chris looks down at him, both figuratively and literally. What does surprise me, however, is how Chris immediately spits at the pathetic boy on the ground. “Leave my girl the fuck alone, for good.”

This really set Jace off. Despite his inability to commit to a proper relationship, he was always possessive of me. “Your girl? She's only had one dick down her throat and it’s certainly not yours.”

He’s propped up on his elbows now, a familiar smug smirk on his face. All I feel is a pit in my stomach at his words. His words are spoken in front of everyone I care about.

I’m not a slut. It’s only ever been with Jace, and I never once enjoyed it as much as I thought I was supposed to. But Jace always told me I was good. For a long time, his approval was enough for me.

It became less about me finishing and more about having someone to tell me that I was doing a good job. And now he’s sharing my most intimate details in front of all these people. In front of Chris.

I feel eyes on me as the tears well up in my eye sockets, my arms crossed over my body to cover whatever dignity I have left.

Chris takes one look at me standing there watching in horror, before focusing back on Jace who’s now standing up. Jace clearly thinks he’s won this one since he still has a smug smirk even as he wobbles, but his nasty words don’t stand a chance next to the fuming boy who’s walking back towards him.

It all happens so fast, Chris’ sharp boot being kicked into Jace's side with full force. Jace is knocked back into the dirt as Chris shows no sign of stopping his painful movements.

Within a few seconds, my uncle is walking toward Chris to pull him back by his shoulders. “Get the fuck off me!” Chris yells out, eager to return to where he left off.

But Uncle Buck just pulls him back further, his grip strong. “Take a walk boy.”

“But-“ Chris tries to argue but it’s clearly a lost cause because the gaze in my uncle's eyes is more serious than Chris has ever seen it. He drops his head, breathing heavily, too full of respect for Buck to argue.

“Take a walk. Figure out your shit. Then come back, son.”

“Evie?” He asks softly, looking more like a kid being put in timeout than the man who just kicked someone’s ass for me.

“Birdie’s got her. Go.��

Before he does, we lock eyes one more time. But all the anger seems to have vanished from his features and he just looks… disappointed. Before I can even think of something to say, he turns and walks away with his hands on his head.

Once he’s out of eyesight, the crowd starts to dissipate since it’s clear the scene, and the party for that matter, is over. My uncle helps Jace from the ground with my dad’s help and I finally regain my ability to move.

As I come closer, Jace takes a step back like he thinks I’m going to take the next swing. Honestly, I really should. But I just clear my throat and narrow my eyes at him. “Bitch, huh? Too much baggage for you?”

He scoffs, his eyes damn near bucking out of his head. “That’s what you’re worried about? I was just viciously attacked! I need my fucking lawyer.”

My lip curls up in disgust as I watch him pat his pockets for his phone and come up empty. “I can’t believe how stupid I’ve been. You’re such a fucking loser.”

He pauses and looks up at me, giving me a hateful look that turns slowly into a wicked smile. “You want to talk about losers, sweetheart?”

Since I know him well enough to know when he’s going in for what he thinks is a kill shot, I brace myself before shrugging and forcing a mask of indifference. “You can’t hurt me anymore, Jace.” I lie. “I don’t care.”

“What about her?” He says, nodding at Lydia from where she stands a few feet away. As soon as she meets my eye, she goes frozen and pale as if she’s seen a ghost. And before he says another word, I know.

Memories resurface so quickly, that it feels like I’m watching them happen to someone else. Lydia freaking out whenever I touched her phone. The way Jace always remembered only two of our group’s orders at Starbucks- mine and Lydia’s. How conveniently they always seemed to end up near each other at events and parties.

My breathing hitches as I face her fully, fighting as hard as I can to keep my composure. “How long?”

“Y/N, please-” She tries to croak out, but I cut her off with a wave of my hand.

“How fucking long?”

She doesn’t answer for a moment and Jace chimes in behind me with an arrogant flair. “A year. About a week after we fucked to be more accurate. Great week for me.”

Before I can blink, my dad snatches him by the shirt and throws him against the side of the house. “I suggest you start watching your fucking mouth. It’s gonna get you hurt.” Dad lets him go and steps back with a warning look. “Go get your shit so I can get you back to your daddy.”

My head is reeling as I look around dazed. The expressions range from anger to shock, and even worse… pity. I can’t take it anymore, so I turn to rush to my room until I hear Jace call out behind me.

“And tell your little boyfriend, he can expect a call from my attorney.”

I freeze and look over my shoulder, surprising both Jace and myself when I burst into laughter. “Try it and I’ll tell your dad every fucking thing I know. I’ll start by advising him to check his gambling books.”

All the smugness abandons him as he goes white at my words so I give him a huge grin of my own. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

************

By the time I finally force myself to get out of the bath, I’m feeling completely numb. I’d sat in there for an hour, basically just staring at the wall and trying to figure out how I’d been so stupid.

I’m not even sad, not really. But there’s this ache in my heart like something is missing. I guess that’s what happens when you love someone for this long and lose them. Or maybe this is just proof of what my mind has been telling me all along- that I could never be enough.

When I’m dressed, I sit on my bed and check my messages. I’ve fallen out of the habit lately but tonight I’m longing for connection. There are a few worried texts but I ignore most of them, only answering Abby and letting her know I’m okay.

There’s a message from Brielle swearing she had no idea about Lydia and Jace, but I’m not sure if I can believe her, and I don’t have the brainpower to try to figure it out tonight. She’d left along with the other two at my dad’s insistence and I honestly think it was for the best. At least until I figure out who I can and can’t trust.

A sharp knock sounds on my door and I sigh deeply and toss my phone before telling them to come in. Birdie strolls in holding a plate of the Welcome Home cake we never got to cut and I can’t help but smile.

“Hi, my bunny. How are you feeling?” Her voice is so kind and the question is so genuine, I feel like I’m about to crumble in her hands. I try, I really try, not to Iet a tear fall as I nod quickly, but I fail.

She rushes over to me, places the cake on the nightstand, and takes me into her arms. “Let it out, honey. You’ve earned it.”

So I cry. Even though I’m not that surprised, even though I maybe even expected it. I cry for all the wasted youth I gave him. For all the effort I put into trying to be a girl he might love. For all the parts of me, I threw away to make room for him.

And yes, I maybe even cry for Lydia. For the days when I’d have called her my closest friend. I sob into my aunt’s arms until there’s nothing left to give, until my head throbs and my chest aches. Until, before I know it, I’ve fallen asleep.

*************

I wake up with a start to an empty and dark room thinking I must have slept through the next day, but realize it’s only been a couple of hours. What the fuck? Isn’t heartbreak supposed to keep you asleep or something?

Groggily, I wrap my throw blanket around my shoulders and head into the living room to see who’s still awake but, to my surprise, it’s empty. I guess they decided to go out since I did technically ruin their party. Fair enough, honestly.

There’s not much to do in the house alone, so I decide to go see the one girl I know who won’t ever let me down. I just hope she’s still awake.

When I get to the stables, the door is cracked a bit and I raise an eyebrow. There must already be someone here. I look down at my pajama pants that I haphazardly stuffed into my muddy work boots, trying to decide if it’s worth the humiliation. Then I remember the events of a few hours ago…yeah, way past that point, I guess.

I don’t know what I expected to find when I pushed the door open, but it definitely wasn't this- Chris leaned against the back wall, knees to his chest and his head in his hands.

He hears the squeak of the door and looks up, his blue eyes stormy and dark. We hold each other's gaze for a long moment, neither of us saying a word until he finally stands.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t be in here, I’ll go.” He goes to rush out of the door so I move over to block it and panic, saying the first thing that pops into my head.

“Where’s Evie?”

He pauses, not expecting the question, and blinks quickly. “She..uh.. I took her home.” A look of guilt passes over his face and he flinches. “I can’t believe I fought in front of her. Thank god Birdie grabbed her before she could see me like that.”

He sounds so disappointed in himself that I want to pull him in for a hug but I hold myself back. “I’m sorry. It was my fault.”

Chris levels me with a look so fierce a shudder goes down my spine. “Don’t do that. That’s on him. Not you.”

“I just don’t understand why you did it,” I admit, studying his boots instead of his face out of nervousness.

“If you think I was gonna sit back and let that bitch of a boy call you out of your name, you’ve lost your mind.” He grinds out with disgust, his skin flushing red as anger seems to settle back in over him. He starts to pace back and forth as my eyes track him in frustration.

"But what does that have to do with you? You’ve made it clear you want nothing to do with me." I say, fighting to keep my voice level and calm. I don’t want to make whatever has forced its way between us bigger but I’m tired of guessing at how he feels.

He laughs bitterly, still refusing to meet my eye as he shakes his head. “Have I? Is that right?”

I sigh, running a hand over my face. “There you go again, speaking in riddles. Why can’t you ever just be direct? I’m tired of playing these games.”

Chris finally stops his pacing and turns to meet my eye. “Games?” He asks, disbelief clear in his tone. “You think this is a game to me? I wasn’t ever playing with this, Scotch.” He gestures between the two of us widely before he spins away from me again, locking his arms behind his head.

The seconds stretch on as I stare blankly at his back waiting to see if he will say more. Just as I’m about to leave him to his thoughts, he faces me again, seeming to come to a decision.

“Fuck it.” He says simply as he crosses the space in three long strides and catches my mouth in a kiss. He braces his hands on either side of my face, the movement so abrupt and passionate that it takes several seconds for my brain to catch up.

The momentum of the kiss causes my back to hit one of the empty stalls slightly but I don't care in the slightest when Chris’ lips are on mine.

He pulls back for a moment, realizing his body moved before his brain had a chance to comprehend what he was doing. “Is this okay? I’m sorry. I don’t ever do shit like that. I just-“

I cut him off with another kiss, my hands pulling down his head to attach his lips back onto mine. This kiss is a lot different than the others we’ve shared in our time together. Usually, it’s short and sweet with smiles and small talk in between, but the passion behind this one is much more clear.

His hands trail on my sides causing me to shiver slightly at the touch. He detaches his mouth from mine again, but before I can get confused about it his lips make contact with my neck.

The way his lips suck softly on my bare skin has my head thrown back in pleasure, his hands coming up to make contact with my chest. “Fuck, Chris. I need to feel you.” I breathe out, reaching my hands towards his belt.

I can feel him hesitate, stiffening when I make contact before he groans and pulls back. His face pulls up in a helpless look and he shakes his head. “Not here.”

I furrow my brows as I try to pull him back to me but he doesn’t budge. “Why not?”

He gives me a look of disbelief as he gestures at our surroundings, kicking his feet at the hay for emphasis. “Scotch, ain't no way in hell I’m having sex with you in this dirty ass stable.”

Disappointment and a tinge of rejection tug at my chest as I nod and take a step back. “Okay.”

Tutting, Chris tilts my face up to his and presses a gentle kiss on my lips. “Don’t give me that look, baby. You know how bad I want you.”

As he speaks, he drops kisses lower and lower down my jawline until he finds a sweet spot on my neck, running his tongue slowly over it.

“But you deserve a bed…” He swirls his tongue as he pauses, his hand on my hip slipping just below my waistband. “And I deserve time.”

Moaning slowly at the sweet torture, I let myself melt into him until the frustration is too much and I push against his chest. “You making me even more horny is just mean if you’re not going to do anything about it.”

His eyes widen slightly at my desperate words as he pulls away, clearly not expecting that from me. “I..uh..never said that.” He looks around the stable. “Just can’t do a thing about it here.”

His answer was not a no, which is all I needed. I reach my hand down once more, fingers making contact with his obvious boner before I lean into his ear. “If you can’t do it here, then you’d better find somewhere you can.”

He searches my face for signs of uncertainty but he comes up short, leaning down to place one more kiss to my lips before replying. “Yes ma’am.”

***************

“Okay, Scotch,” Chris says, turning to me as he throws his truck into park. “We’re gonna have to be very quiet.”

“Why? Are we hunting wabbits?” I ask sarcastically in my absolutely atrocious Loony Toons impression.

He gives me a completely unimpressed stare before he tilts his head up toward the sky. “God, why? Why’d you give me this cornball?”

“Okay. Okay. What’s the plan?” I ask through my laugh, my stomach doing an involuntary flip when his eyes land back on mine.

Instead of answering, he watches me for a second before leaning over the center console and pulling me in for a kiss. It’s short and sweet, his thumb caressing the side of my face. I feel the heat rising to my face even before he pulls away. “Just follow my lead.”

I do exactly that, stepping carefully over the gravel and stepping to the side as he slowly unlocks and pushes open his front door. It makes a long creaking sound and we both hold our breath as we slip inside.

His house has the same classic farmhouse feel as my aunt and uncle’s except for a more antique touch. I smile when I see the floral patterns that adorn almost all of the furniture in the room- a grandma classic.

As if it wasn’t hard enough to keep my steps quiet, Evie’s toys are scattered across the floor like little landmines. I see Chris grimace as he sends a toy car zooming across the carpet accidentally. Just when I’m about to laugh at his clumsiness, I land down on a giant piano mat and suddenly I’m playing Beethoven with my feet.

Our eyes widen at the loud notes before Chris wraps his arms around my waist and snatches me off it. We freeze like we’re in a spy movie and we’ve set off a laser but we don’t hear any movement.

We take the stairs two at a time, moving as silently as possible until we reach the top. As soon as we do, Chris bursts into quiet laughter. “I knew I should have made her pick up her shit before bed.”

After what feels like an eternity we finally make it to his room, one of only two doors on this floor. He opens the door for me and ushers for me to go in first but I can’t help but feel completely awkward.

It’s one thing in the heat of the moment, but the stinging in my foot from where I stepped on a Lego has distracted my mind slightly.

When he closes his door behind him, I study him nervously before whispering, “Do we still have to be quiet?”

Shaking his head, he walks past me and takes a seat at the foot of his bed. “It’s only me up here. I mean, don’t yell or nothin’.”

This pulls me out of my awkwardness a bit and I give him a teasing smile. “Damn. I guess I’ll just have to wait to hear you scream.”

He raises an eyebrow and laughs, prodding his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “You wish.”

Still a bit too nervous to initiate anything, I take a moment to study his room. It’s a lot cleaner than I’d expect from a blue-collar boy, with only a few piles of clothes scattered around the floor. His bed is even surprisingly made.

His walls though are very typically bare, hosting only a small shelf of trophies, a framed Lil Skies vinyl, and a few pictures of friends and family on a corkboard. I scan them curiously, always desperate to know more about him.

I recognize a few of the friends but the picture of him being held by a woman with his eyes holds my attention. He looks about five years old, holding a cotton candy cone with a huge grin as he looks over at her. I run my finger over it gently, before deciding not to bring it up.

Instead, I go for something lighter and turn to point at the vinyl. “Okay, so, there’s being a fan, and then there’s an obsession. Why is it framed? I don’t even see a record player, you fraud.”

His eyes widen in faux offense and he puts a hand up. “First of all, don’t question me about the GOAT-”

“So debatable-”

“Second! You expect me to believe you don’t have a record player collecting dust at home? No chance.”

“Actually,” I say, rushing to defend myself. “It’s definitely been used, thank you very much.”

“How many times?” He questions, leaning forward and manspreading his legs.

At my very obvious wince of guilt, he scoffs and crosses his arms. “Lemme guess. It’s got Bluetooth, don’t it?”

“Okay,” I say, laughing and shaking my head in shame. “Shut up. I hate you.”

“You don’t.” He says with complete certainty and I roll my eyes. There’s that cockiness I’ve come to expect. But when I look back at him, it feels like the energy in the room has shifted a bit and I almost want to squirm.

He holds my eye contact with intensity before he gives

me a soft and firm, “C’mere.”

Anxiousness almost nails me to my spot but I fight it to walk over and stand between his legs, resting my hands delicately on his shoulders as I look down at him. He runs his hands up and down the sides of my legs, pausing to pull me in closer before continuing.

There’s nothing in the world I want to do more than kiss him at this moment so I do. Bending slightly, I press my lips to him in a slow and casual kiss that quickly turns more passionate. He lifts me onto his lap for more access before he hesitates and pulls away.

“Are you sure?” He asks, his eyes bouncing between mine as if trying to detect if my mind has changed. “Nothing has to happen tonight just because you’re here.”

Even without the undeniable honesty in his tone, I would have believed him but hearing him say it out loud makes it that much easier. I nod profusely, leaning back in to kiss him again but he dodges it and takes my face in his hands.

“Gonna need you to say it, Scotch.”

“I’ve never been more sure about anything than I am about this, Chris. I need you.” I make sure to keep my eyes on his so he knows I mean it. But the minute it’s out of my mouth, it’s like a switch flips as he pulls me back in roughly.

He kisses me wildly, his lips moving against mine with every bit of neediness that I’m feeling as well. When his tongue touches mine and coaxes a tremor out of him, I realize just how much power he’s handed over to me. But before I even have the chance to test it again, he flips us over, placing his body over mine as he slides me higher up the mattress.

It doesn’t take long for the kiss with him on top of me to take a turn. My legs are wrapped around him while his hands rest on my ass in order to pull himself closer to me. I can feel his bulge on me through the restriction of his jeans but it only makes me want him more.

He seems like he's slightly lost in the kiss. That or he’s too scared to do anything else. I pull back, a sight whine in my tone as I look him in the eye. “You do know you can touch me right?”

“I just want to make this good for you,” he replies, seeming uncharacteristically sheepish. It’s not often I see him so nervous which only makes me laugh through my breath.

“You’ve already made me more wet than I've ever been and you’ve only kissed me,” I whisper, causing a smile and a sense of relief to wash over him. “I just want to know what it’s like to do this sort of thing with someone who cares about me.”

“Do you trust me?” He asks, as if the answer isn’t blatantly obvious, his hands sliding up my sides again. This time though they’re under my shirt and the feeling is overwhelming.

I nod quickly. “‘Of course I do, Chris.” He smiles, dropping his head back down to my neck to suck on the skin softly. I get lost in the feeling momentarily, his fingers slowly tugging at the fabric that keeps me from him while I try my best to remain still under his touch.

As amazing as it feels, I grow impatient quickly as the throbbing between my legs overtakes any regular thought. “Chris please.”

He pauses on my neck for a moment, lifting my shirt above my head to leave me below him in the Victoria's Secret bra Lydia bought me for my 16th birthday. His eyes linger for a moment before he finally responds, a teasing smirk on his face. “Please what?”

I shake my head and fix my messed-up hair slightly. Of course, the asshole on top of me is going to make me spell it out for him. “Stop making me wait for you.”

“A whole damn summer of driving me insane and you think I’m gonna rush this?” He scoffs playfully before his lips make contact with mine again. His hands find comfort on my chest, causing me to arch my back into the touch.

Expecting another cocky remark at my neediness, it takes me aback when instead he just instructs me to sit up, his voice taking on a deeper affliction. It takes me a second to comprehend why I'm sitting up for him until his hand snakes behind my back and unclasps the lacy fabric with one hand.

It feels very real suddenly but I try not to let myself get anxious under his gaze. I keep my eyes on his face, his kind open eyes reminding me there’s nothing to be worried about. He’s not Jace.

“You’re so beautiful. Like really fucking beautiful.” He whispers as he takes the fabric off me fully, leaving me exposed below him.

Before I can leave behind another snarky remark about how long he’s taking his head dips down to my chest. He places a few kisses on my collarbone before his mouth finally makes contact with one of my nipples.

His tongue swirls around the bud and my hands can’t help but falter to his curly brown hair. The feeling of his lips sucking on me while his hands explore the rest of my body.

He’s true to his word on taking his time with me, and for once I don’t feel the need to rush it and get it over with. For once sex doesn’t feel like a chore.

Slowly, his kisses on my chest travel down my stomach, a soft noise left behind with each one. I squeeze my thighs together in order to relieve some tension that I'm not entirely sure what else to do with.

His fingers begin unbuttoning my pants and tugging gently before I lift my hips to grant him access. He slides them off along with my socks in one swift movement.

“Wait,” I say, causing concern to overtake his face in the dimly lit bedroom.

“Are you okay? We can stop,” he replies, pausing immediately and pulling back.

I just reply by lifting his t-shirt over his head, messing up his hair slightly. “Now we’re more even.” I smile.

He returns my smile, relief in his eyes as he kisses me. A more intimate kiss than before, a softer one that reminds me there’s more than lust between us. “I really like you.” He says, voice low and urgent as if he needs to make sure I know.

For whatever reason this does it for me, more than the touches and the way his hands rest on my side. Not that I didn’t know but the confirmation lights me anew. He really likes me. He likes me for me and not some made-up version of who he thinks I should be.

“I like you more,” I reply, a huge grin plastered on my face as he lowers his body back down to align himself with my center.

He kisses just above the line of my underwear, his thumb placing light pressure on my clit through the fabric while he replies. “Impossible.”

His hands pull on my underwear slowly, as if asking for permission which of course I grant eagerly. Lifting my hips to help him out, I can’t help but flush at how slowly and sensually he pulls them off. He whispers something under his breath that I don’t catch but sounds a bit like ‘beautiful’ before he comes back to me.

Expecting him to slide inside of me at any moment, I sit up and reach down to undo his pants but instead, he pushes me back into the mattress and swats away my hand.

Just as I’m about to question him, I feel his hand reach down to make contact with the wetness that’s pooled up for him, his fingers exploring my entrance slightly as his palm places a light pressure to my bare clit.

I try my best not to moan out at the slightest contact, finding it embarrassing how sensitive I am. It’s not like I've never had an orgasm in my whole life; I just haven’t had one at the hands of another person.

His lips find comfort on my neck again to place a few light kisses before shifting his body down on the bed completely. I shift uncomfortably as his hands slowly slide down my body, the touch leaving prickly goosebumps behind.

“You’re sure you’re okay with this, yeah?” He asks as his face is completely aligned with the section of my body that’s practically begging for him.

“Chris I swear to god if you ask me that again I'll-“ I’m cut off by his tongue licking a stripe through my folds, testing the waters and realizing just how easy it is to get me to shut up.

I place my hand over my mouth at the feeling of his nose brushing against my sensitivity, trying my best to keep my hopes still under his touch.

He pulls off momentarily before lifting my legs over his shoulders to grant him easier access. “If you thought I was going to have sex with you without getting a taste, you are out of your mind.”

I don’t bother replying, refusing to prolong the teasing any longer. But embarrassingly my heart can’t help but flutter at his desire to make me feel good. It’s nice being prioritized for once.

His lips wrap around the throbbing bud as he uses his tongue in an urgency I wasn’t expecting. My hips lift slightly up to meet his face but a hand pushes me into the bed by my lower stomach to keep me still.

My stomach is tensing at the pleasure of his tongue flicking repeatedly and it's near impossible to not let out any noises. A few small whimpers escape my lips without a second thought causing me to cringe slightly at the thought of anyone hearing this.

He slows his movements every once and a while to place delicate kisses on my lower half, practically cherishing me before he continues his relentless work on my clit.

My heavy breathing fills the room and it hitches at the addition of one of his fingers. It slides into me with ease and immediately curls upwards at a teasing speed.

A moan slips out of the palm of my hand and I can feel him smile against me as his finger stretches me out and his tongue continues the flicking movement.

I feel the build-up in my stomach approach but I’m scared of releasing my hand from my lips. I’m not used to having to hold back real moans during sex.

So I tap him on the shoulder, causing the boy to immediately look up at me with eyes that have my heart beating out of my chest. He watches me as pleasure coils inside my stomach, a look of satisfaction and wonder in his eyes.

He pulls his lips away from my core to place another loving kiss on my lower stomach. “Can I put another one in?” He asks, looking up at me for permission.

I nod with a slight fear lingering in my head. Chris' fingers are definitely larger than my own.

He dips his head back down to refocus his attention on my clit momentarily before carefully entering another finger into my core. It must be obvious that it’s been a while because he works slowly.

Soon enough the stretching turns into pleasure and a gasp slips from my lips as he curves his fingers deep inside of me, deeper than before. As his fingers curl up to hit the sweet spot I could never reach, his tongue swirls against my clit at its fastest pace.

His other hand rubs soothing circles against my hip as I cling to him, pleading for more as his tongue and finger find a rhythm.

When I feel my high building, it’s so intense, so unlike anything I’ve experienced before, I almost want to run away. But I’m like putty in his hands as he works over my body, every kiss feeling like worship.

I say his name through a moan and meet his eye as waves of pleasure crash over me, his movements pausing and giving me a break as I ride it out. He crawls up my body, a grin on his face as I settle down and go weak in his arms.

Chris presses kiss after kiss to my face until I giggle and pull away to look him in the eye. “That was-”

“I know.” He cuts in, his cocksure smirk snapping back into place as he raises a brow at me. I roll my eyes and shove him up, unable to hide my smile at his quiet laughter.

We both pause for a second, him seeming unsure how much further I want to go and me not being used to taking control. But something about the way he’s looking at me fills me with confidence and I pull myself back over his lap, straddling him.

He sits up against his headboard, moving me with him, and places his hands on my hips as he studies me. I can see from his expression that he wants to ask yet again if I’m sure, so I cut him off with a hungry kiss, grinding myself against his jeans.

Straining even harder against his pants, he groans and gives in, reaching down to tug off his belt quickly. I slide off of his lap so he can stand and get off the rest of his clothes, my eyes frozen on his bulge as he removes his boxers.

My jaw drops as his length is revealed and I tear my eyes away to give him an incredulous look. Before I can stop myself, I stutter out a stunned, “Is that going to fit?”

His eyes dance with amusement, biting his lip to keep from outright laughing at me before he nods. “You can take it.”

Stepping over to his nightstand, he pulls out a box of condoms before going to put it on. My heart starts to flutter a bit when I realize that it’s a new and unopened box and I hide my smile.

Finally covered, he walks back toward me so I lie down on instinct, figuring he’ll turn me around if he prefers backshots but he tuts and shakes his head. “Uh uh, baby. This ain’t a laid back kinda night.”

He lifts me and takes my place, bringing me down to straddle him again. Panic floods me as I realize what he wants. “Chris… I don’t know…I’ve never done that before.”

Embarrassment makes me look away from him but he grabs the back of my neck and gently tugs me down for a kiss. “It’s okay, Scotch. I got you.”

Nodding slowly, I let the feeling of safety settle over me before I give up control. Chris guides me up by my hips, placing me against his dick but letting me set the pace.

With a steadying breath, I slowly lower myself down inch by inch, gasping as he fills me. When I think there’s no way I could possibly take anymore, I look down and realize he’s only halfway inside. Meeting his eyes, I give him a helpless look and he squeezes my hips.

“You’re alright, baby. Just like that.”

I can hear the strain in his voice as he tries not to move to let me adjust and it spurs me on until I completely bottom out. Chris whispers a quiet string of curses, screwing his eyes shut in pleasure. “Fuck, I knew you’d feel like this.”

Moaning at his words and feeling my wetness pool around him, I rock my hips and throw my head back. I swirl my hips, trying to find a rhythm that feels right until Chris lifts me again.

This time, he’s more urgent and a bit rougher, tugging me up and down as he thrusts his hips up to meet mine. I move with him, letting him push deeper inside of me until I want to scream. I want to lean down and kiss him again but the friction between us feels too good to break the rhythm.

Deciding to fight for my sliver of dominance back, I brace my hands on his chest and set my own tempo. It clearly drives him crazy, his hands gripping my hips tighter as he moans out my name. Not a pet name. Not even Scotch. But my name. And the way it sounds on his lips is enough to have me clenching against him.

“Fuck.” He groans, his hands traveling up to squeeze my breasts as they bounce with our movements. “That’s my fucking girl.”

My moans must get too loud because he pulls me down and smashes his lips against mine, swallowing every whimper he coaxes out of me. I try to hold off when I feel another orgasm tearing through me, desperate to stretch this feeling out forever. But it’s no use.

“Chris, I’m coming-” I try to say against his lips but he already knows, pulling back to watch me fall apart on top of him.

I press my face into his shoulder as I come around him, my teeth grazing his skin as I shudder with pleasure. Knowing I’m about a second away from tapping out, he picks up his pace, his lips going to the base of my throat.

He lets out a strangled sound before going limp and wrapping his arms even tighter around me. Neither of us moves a muscle, not even bothering to pull out as we breathe heavily skin to skin.

There’s a moment of fear, of insecurity, when I’m not sure what will happen next. So I lie as still as I can hoping to prolong the moment when everything changes. The fear stays as he finally pulls away and goes to clean up. It persists when he comes back and hands me an oversized shirt and a pair of his boxers.

It isn’t until he’s laid down beside me, my body pulled flush against his that I understand. Not until he leans me back to press a sweet and casual goodnight kiss on my lips.

He’s not anything like the boy I loved before. He can be a safe place to land

🏷️/ @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @mrsmiagreer @asturniolos @teapartyprincess4two @whicked-hazlatwhore @sukiipjs @fratbrochrisgf @bueckerssturns @imfromthediningtable @st4rswrld @thvvluvr @sturnssmuts @littlenerdybee @sturniolossss @iloveneilperry @eclipzw @chrissloverrrrrrr16 @sstvrnioloo @fwskullz @luv4kozume @breeloveschris @leighbronk @sophia-77n @xoxo4chrisss @ribread03 @h3arts4harry @chrissystur @pepsiboyy @watercolorskyy @sturnsmia @rorylovesmatt @fake-sturniolos @slut4chriss

196 notes · View notes

suzukiblu · 3 days

Text

WIP excerpt for tabetharasa behind the cut; alpha Jazz, a dark alley, and a very pretty omega. ( + non-chrono link for mobile users )

Jazz has no idea why Red Hood thinks he smells anything but delicious, but there’s a very reckless and dubiously-ethical part of her that would be willing to prove it to him. Not that she would, obviously, because that would be, again, incredibly unethical and highly inappropriate and also a total dick move.

She just could, that’s all. Just if it came up or whatever.

“Well, it’s not,” she says, mildly put out by whatever’s going on here, and Red Hood growls. His scent blockers continue to be useless. Just–absolutely useless, yes.

Ancients, he smells so good. What is she even supposed to do about how good this omega smells?

Maybe offer to walk him home, or at least offer him her jacket so he has enough alpha scent on him that no one bothers him on his way back to his den. Although he’s a crime lord–or a vigilante? one or the other, whatever–who’s built like a truck, so that probably isn’t really a concern, she supposes.

Then again, some people seriously do have no sense of decorum.

Or survival instincts.

“Shut the fuck up!” Red Hood snaps. Jazz frowns. That seems like a disproportionate amount of anger in his tone. Maybe he's sensitive about his pheromones. Well, if people have been telling him he smells like death . . .

Though “death” doesn't necessarily smell bad, in Jazz's opinion.

Admittedly, that's a liminal's opinion and besides the point anyway. But still.

“Alright,” she says. “But can you get to your den safely? Or . . . somewhere you can den down, anyway, I don't know. I assume you have a headquarters or a safehouse or two, something like that. Or at least can afford a heat hotel or know a decent clinic.”

Red Hood hisses at her. It crackles through his modulator, but the sound of it still makes her jeans a little . . . uncomfortable, she'll just say. Sue her, she likes omegas with a bite to them. Johnny 13 definitely didn't win her over by being the sweet and polite type; he won her over by being a blunt asshole in a leather jacket who'd convinced her that he was a sincere and straight-up person.

She wonders how “sincere” the average Gotham crime boss really is, but it’s a little difficult to concentrate on that question with the scent of old books and burning cedar filling up her nose. And also that note of lilac. That note of lilac is a problem.

A serious problem.

“I realize heat drop is probably imminent and you must be uncomfortable, but it’s a valid concern on my part, given your condition,” she says, which normally she’d make sound politely disapproving but really can’t make sound any kind of disapproving right now. Again: the lilac. “So can you?”

“Fuck makes you think I'd let you anywhere near my den?” Red Hood snarls. Jazz blinks; tilts her head.

“Nothing,” she says. “What makes you think I was asking to go anywhere near it?”

Red Hood–stalls, briefly. Jazz tries to be polite about how incredibly obvious a tell that statement was.

Flattering, but incredibly obvious.

“I mean, I'd be happy to escort you if you’d like,” she says. “Or lend you my scent, if you need it. But I'm not trying to presume anything.”

“Fuck off,” Red Hood snarls. “Nobody escorts an omega like me.”

“Do you think maybe you have some self-esteem issues?” Jazz asks. Heat is almost definitely making him a bit more volatile and emotional than normal, considering the kinds of things he’s been saying to her, but it still seems like a valid question. Being on their cycle doesn’t make people different people; just makes it a bit harder for them to censor and control themselves.

Or a lot harder, sometimes.

Judging by how strong Red Hood’s pheromones smell right now . . .

Well, he might be having a harder time than he’s used to having, so far as “controlling himself” goes.

Jazz certainly is, all inappropriate knotheaded puns aside.

Do Poison Ivy’s pollens make cycles hit harder, actually? Or does the suddenness of the effect disorient or throw people off, maybe?

Well, that’s a worrying thought, since Red Hood seems to be out here alone.

“‘Self-esteem issues’?” Red Hood repeats incredulously, his pheromones briefly sparking with bewilderment. Jazz decides not to press it, since he might be feeling a little vulnerable right now.

“Yes,” she says. “Is there someone you can call, if you don’t want an escort or to borrow my scent? I could wait with you until they show. No offense, just Park Row’s not a very nice neighborhood.”

Red Hood laughs.

“No fucking shit!” he says, spreading his arms. “It’s Crime Alley!”

“I know, sorry, I just keep accidentally calling it ‘Park Row’ in my head. Still new in town,” Jazz apologizes. She assumes a crime lord would prefer his territory be correctly referred to, anyway. Seems like a thing. She knows standard humans don’t actually have haunts–even most liminal ones don’t, including her–but sometimes she does . . . well, not forget, exactly, but just . . . expect them to anyway, she supposes?

She spent way too long in Amity, yes.

Even without Crime Alley being Red Hood’s actual haunt, though, it’s still disrespectful to call it the wrong name. It’s still his territory either way, and she imagines someone on their cycle especially wouldn’t appreciate the mistake.

“What is your damage?” Red Hood snarls, his voice modulator crackling threateningly as he visibly bristles, and Jazz catches notes of that electric and unexpected edge in his pheromones again. Still vaguely familiar, but still not quite what it seems like it should be. Just . . .

Really, if she didn’t know better . . . well, she’d think he was liminal. But that seems like a very unlikely coincidence for her first week in Gotham, so . . .

Then again, her life is her life.

It’s not really the time to be asking Red Hood about his levels of ecto exposure, though, and she’s pretty sure they’ve both got more important priorities right now.

“We don’t really have time to unpack all that, to be honest. You really do need to get home,” she says. “Or at least call someone to pick you up. If you go into heat drop alone in Crime Alley, I can’t imagine it’s going to end well.”

Red Hood hisses. That might’ve sounded like a threat, Jazz realizes belatedly.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she says, apologetic again. “But it’s not safe, is it?”

“If anyone I don’t want near my ass tries to touch me, I’ll put a bullet up theirs,” Red Hood growls, low and crackling.

“That seems like a lot of trouble when you’re on your cycle, though,” Jazz says. He’d have a body to deal with, and maybe someone would call the cops–well, she supposes it is Crime Alley, so maybe not . . .? But it’d be self-defense anyway, and if he is a crime lord, maybe he has people for that.

Hm.

She really needs to get familiar with this area as soon as possible, yeah. And just Gotham in general, really. Every city has its own idiosyncrasies, but Gotham is its idiosyncrasies.

Well, so is Amity Park, of course.

“I think you belong in Arkham, lady,” Red Hood says. Jazz feels like a Gothamite should be more understanding of someone taking supervillain attack side effects and hostile heated-up crime lords in stride, but apparently not.

“Technically, you’re not wrong,” she says with a wry smile. She’d offer him a handshake, but that’s not really appropriate for an alpha to offer to an omega in heat. Especially not an unmated alpha, which Jazz very definitely is. “I start Monday. Jazz Fenton, psychiatric intern. At your service.”

Red Hood manages to very clearly stare at her without actually taking off the helmet. It's actually an impressive amount of expressiveness to get across, under the circumstances.

Or there could be a touch of liminal empathy happening, admittedly. That's possible too. Especially with another liminal involved.

Jazz briefly considers what knotting a liminal omega might actually be like if an empathy loop got established somewhere in the process, which is a lie, because what she’s actually imagining is picking up this liminal omega and showing him exactly how delicious she thinks he smells.

Definitely inappropriate.

“They will literally eat you alive,” Red Hood says.

“I mean, there’s a risk of it,” Jazz allows, because nothing is a perfect guarantee. It’s just not a very large risk. Comparatively, she means.

“You applied to Arkham on purpose, lady?” Red Hood says disbelievingly.

“Oh, no,” Jazz says, shaking her head. “They made me an offer. Somebody read my thesis and liked it, apparently.”

Well . . . “thought we should interview you for either a position or to have your file established for whenever the convictions start rolling in”, whichever. The interviewing psychiatrists had a range of reactions during her interview, she supposes is the best way to put it.

Jazz really doesn’t think it’s fair to classify her parents as actual supervillains, but an increasingly long list of professionals has, admittedly, not agreed with that assessment.

She can’t imagine what they would’ve thought if she’d told them about Danny, considering.

Well, it’s not her problem if someone else is going to be close-minded about things like that.

“I’m sorry, I’m really not trying to be pushy here, but are you sure you don’t want to call anyone? Or want my scent. Or . . . literally anything,” she says, gesturing a little awkwardly with her shopping bags. “I do get told my pheromones are pretty discouraging to unwanted attention, if that helps?”

“Sure they are,” Red Hood snorts. Jazz tries not to look disapproving, given his compromised state. That kind of thing can bother omegas in heat, she knows.

“That’s what people tell me,” is all she says. Obviously it’s not just the default parts of her scent that make it a strong deterrent, but as for the force of the emotions and claim she can put into it . . .

Well. She just hears it’s “discouraging” to other alphas pretty regularly, that’s all. And also some betas, depending on their sexuality. And, um . . . well, a little closer to “catnip”, for omegas, but . . .

“I’ll believe it when I smell it, knothead,” Red Hood snorts again. “Prove it.”

Jazz isn’t sure that’s a good idea, considering–again–his compromised state, but, well . . . he’s clearly a strong omega himself, and maybe she’s a little miffed by him just assuming she’s lying about something like that, that’s all. She knows plenty of alphas do lie about their pheromones or even lay on fake ones, but . . . well, it’s hard not to wonder if he just thinks she’s a lesser alpha because she’s female, or because of how she’s dressed or looks or speaks, or just because.

Her inner alpha doesn’t love the experience of one of the most gorgeous-smelling omegas she’s ever scented sneering at her worth as an alpha without even giving her a shot to prove it, either way.

“Are you sure?” she asks.

#dpxdc #anger management ship #hardcover ship #wip: alpha jazz and a dark alley #tabetharasa #omegaverse

182 notes · View notes

lilislegacy · 2 days

Note

Calling the judo flip abuse is especially stupid because Percy is clearly not bothered by it. If Percy "call out the king of the gods' crappy parenting and leadership to his face while he's holding about 14 billion nukes in his hand" Jackson thought Annabeth was mistreating him in any way, he would not hesitate for a second to let her know.

"BuT PeRcY cOuLd hAvE bEeN pUtTiNg On A bRaVe FaCe As A cOpInG mEcHaNiSm..."

Percy's a fictional character. His responses to other people and the world around him are whatever the writer decides they are. Do these people seriously think that Rick would write Percy as someone making excuses for abusive behavior after six books of the opposite characterization up to that point?

THATS EXACTLY WHAT I ALWAYS SAY

the AUTHOR is actually the only one who knows because he’s the one who creates them

if the AUTHOR says percy is fine and it’s all healthy, then percy is fine and it’s all healthy

#pjo #answered

208 notes · View notes

afterglowsainz · 1 day

Text

the prophecy | max verstappen

summary: you and max can never agree on the same topic of conversation and it might be the thing that breaks you up

warnings: angst, some yelling

word count: 805

the tortured athletes department series

you love max. you really do. but you hate when he brings up the same topic of conversation that you'll never agree on.

“i’m not moving to monaco.” you say for the million time.

“i’m just saying it would be way easier for us.” he answers unbothered while eating his dinner.

you avoid rolling your eyes at his comment and just decide to ignore him. since you got together, distance has been a complicated issue for you both. with max flying almost the whole year for races and then going home to monaco and you working and living in new york, the two of you only saw each other during breaks and when you could occasionally fly to see him race.

and yes, maybe it would make it easier if one of you just moved, but why did it have to be you? living in new york has been your dream since you were a kid and saw it in the movies, and now that you finally got a job that you enjoy in the city of your dreams, are you really gonna leave it? hell no.

“why don’t you think about it?” he insists.

you drop the fork you were holding on the plate creating an exaggerated noise.

“would you do it for me?” you ask, exhausted. “would you move to new york for me?” he shakes his head and went back to his dinner.

“is not the same.” he says.

“why don’t you move to new york?” you ask instead. this caught his attention and he finally moved his eyes from the food to you. “what is it to you anyway? you’re traveling the whole time, i on the other hand, actually work here.”

“you can get a job in monaco.” he replies like he always did when the topic came up.

“i don’t want a different job!” you raise your voice. “and i don’t want to move to monaco.” he didn’t said anything, fearing that whatever came out of his mouth would disturb you more than you already were. “if you wouldn’t do it for me, why would i do it for you?”

you regret it the moment you said it, but it was too late now, it was out there. you could recognize the pain in max’s face from miles away and you felt a little guilty that you were relieved when you said it so you didn’t have to hide your thoughts on the topic anymore.

“because that is what people in relationships do, y/n.” he answers, his tone rather harsh. “you sacrifice things for each other.”

“why do i have to be the one to sacrifice things?” you couldn’t stop now that it was out there.

“why are you being so immature about this?” he exhales, a tired expression on his face which only made you angrier.

“i’m not acting “immature” about this.” you attack. “you just ask me to give up my whole life to go live in a complete different continent for you and i said no, period.”

“so what are we supposed to do, y/n?” he raise his voice at you also. “what are we doing here? playing around?” you frown, nodding your head in disbelief. “i love you too much but this long distance thing is killing me.” he admits.

to be fair, you weren’t the biggest fan of long distance either, but there was no other choice. it was either that or broke up, and you definitely didn’t want to break up.

“look, i know it is not perfect but what else can we do?” you ask, even though the answer was right there, it was obvious that neither of you was going to give in.

“this cannot be the thing that breaks us up.” he whispers but you heard him.

“of course we’re not gonna break up, max.” you say. “that seems extreme.” a grimace of sadness appeared on your face.

“well, i’m not sure what else…” he didn’t continue. “i’m not moving to new york.” he says with a serious tone. “and it seems like you’re not moving to monaco. and none of us wants to do long distance.” you kept quiet, trying to wrap your mind around what he was implying, praying that your conclusions were wrong.

“so?” you ask somewhat fearfully.

“so… i don’t know.”

“you want to end things?” you question straightforwardly, not wanting to wander anymore where his mind was.

“i don’t.” he answers. “but can we continue how we are?” his face was of true despair.

“is it really this serious?” your voice was seconds away from breaking but you didn’t want to look shattered in front of him.

“you tell me.” he says with a lump on his throat.

you couldn’t help but wonder if this was always how it was going to end.

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen angst #f1 x reader #f1 #formula one #formula one x reader #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #the prophecy #taylor swift #the tortured poets department #mv33 #mv1 #the tortured athletes department

201 notes · View notes

nothingelsematterswrites · 2 days

Text

why logan isn't getting replaced at imola, a breakdown

(aka a breakdown so my fellow logan girlies (gn) don't break down)

I've seen this getting around, with a little traction and some people panicking a bit so let's discuss.

Joe Saward has not been a reliable source of transfer news for some time. Let's be real. A lot of this is gaining traction because Saward is "a 35 year accredited F1 journalist". And this is true, he has long experience in F1 and is accredited in the paddock. But it has been many, many years since he was accurate about driver market predictions.

You have to be eighteen to get a superlicence (thanks, Max!). Antonelli does not turn 18 until August. For him to be granted a superlicence in time for Imola, the FIA would have to issue an exemption. If Antonelli was carving up F2 it'd be one thing. But he's been far from convincing so far, and it hasn't just all been Prema. He is an F2 rookie - and he looks like it.

James Vowles has already said that Antonelli to Williams next year is not a given, because Williams has its own juniors - of which Logan is one. Now I know James has been in the bad books with plenty of us since the whole chassis debacle in Melbourne but I do believe him on this. He is quite keen to establish that Williams is not a feeder team for Mercedes and that has been the board's position for some time too (remember their angry denunciation when the rumour was that Oscar was going to replace Latifi at Silverstone?).

James Vowles still believes in Logan. Now I know some of you will be claiming this is doubtful, but I do believe it to be true. In the Japan Vowles Verdict he was warm in his praise for Logan's race pace and early stint - to the point his voice literally changed tone while answering the question. He was absolutely effusive in his praise for Logan after the Melbourne debacle. I do genuinely think that James wants to keep him.

Bringing in a driver change mid-season is incredibly disruptive - you don't do it unless you are certain you're getting a better deal out of it. Last year Alpha Tauri brought in Daniel halfway through the year. The main reason for this was because he was a fairly immediate upgrade to de Vries. But even if you're scornful of Daniel's pace, the other reason they wanted him was for his feedback and car development ability, which AT were pretty vocal that they found invaluable. Bringing in an extremely green, unprepared rookie who has barely worked with the team would be a recipe for instability, morale issues, and more broken bits, which is the absolute last thing Williams needs.

Toto Wolff can't offer James Vowles a big enough incentive to take his junior. Let's cut to the chase on this: to insinuate that James would take Antonelli just because Wolff asked is a pretty big insult to James. He's not Wolff's lapdog. They clearly respect one another and have a personal relationship outside of the sport, but that doesn't mean he'll just do whatever Toto wants - he didn't get to be team principal that way. So Toto would need to offer James an incentive. But what can he offer that James actually needs? Williams aren't broke any more, so money isn't going to cut it. And Williams already run the Mercedes engine, so Toto can't convince him with that. What Williams actually needs - the cultural and procedural overhaul that James has begun - Toto cannot help with.

tl;dr keep cool and keep the faith, logan fans. there's still plenty of time left in our ride.

#f1blr #f1 #logan sargeant #james vowles #kimi antonelli #williams racing #keep calm and believe in logan #keep calm and believe in james

169 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 3 days

Note

WIBTA if I told my mom that my dad might be a murderer?

So I (14F) have an odd set of parents, to put it kindly. For the past year and a half or so, my father (58M) has been leaving, using drugs and being very angry when he comes back. (He doesn't usually yell at/do anything to me, so don't be concerned for my safety. I have people to go to.) He's been yelling at my mother (54F) about this man, I'll call him "D" (I don't know his age, I've never heard of or met him prior to this) and how she cheated on my father with him 12 years etc. And then he was yelling about how D was dead and she probably went to the funeral and.. whatever other nonsense.

My mother told me what happened the night he's accusing her of cheating. They were at the bar [my parents used to own a bar] and my mother didn't want my father to get drunk. He's a violent drunk. So, she asked D to stay with her, thinking that he wouldn't be like that in front of a guy that he respected. She was wrong. He kicked her out, and got in a fight with D. She left with her father, got a call from the hospital about my father having like a 4.0 bac and that was that.

I was telling my brother (35M) about this and he was really surprised. He knew D, and that he was a nice guy, and he knew how he died.

Brain trauma from being beaten up ≈ 12 years ago.

It didn't sound like D got in a lot of fights - my brother certainly was surprised when he heard the cause of death - so it was probably my dad. It makes sense why he's made such a big deal out of it, and was especially bad the day he (D) died.

My mother told me not to tell my brother anything that goes on in our house. I don't want them to have even more tension than they do, especially right now because she's sick (ckd, end stage, if that matters. she's got a couple years) and also - I don't think it would do anything. She already keeps evidence "just in case he kills her" so I don't think telling her would help. I also kind of want to tell her. I don't know. Would it be an asshole move?

(Obviously I know I don't have hard evidence against my dad, so I wouldn't state it as fact, just my theory.) anyway, 🙃 to find later.

#aita #am i the asshole

202 notes · View notes

buckttommy · 3 days

Note

i don't think i really understand pr and what actors should and shouldn't say. why is what oliver's saying so wild?

Hi, it's okay. I'll walk you through it. The tl;dr version is written in bold.

So. PR, or, Public Relations, is the dynamic between the general public (us) and any entity that has interests to protect (in this case, that would be the network + 911). PR teams are designed to ensure the relationship between the public and [their entity] is as harmonious as possible. Happy relationship, happy consumer, happy company.

Because keeping the peace is the intention of good pr, pleasant ambiguity is the name of the game. People can speculate, and people can guess, but no one should ever be able to look back at your words and claim that you've given a definitive answer on anything—good or bad—because definitive statements can harm the entity's bottom line, whatever that may be.

Oliver is very good at keeping the peace between the network and the public. We know this because we have seen evidence supporting this fact for years. He always says a little bit of what everyone wants to hear—he'll keep things vague (plausible deniability) for the sake of the network, while also giving nods of support and encouragement to the fandom without promising anything. You know how he's talked about being cautious and aware of what he's saying in interviews because he knows the impact it could have? Okay, well, aside from wanting to avoid "queerbaiting" allegations, this is part of the reason. PR is a very delicate game and he plays it very well.

Or at least he did.

Right now, Oliver is using binoculars to identify the line, making sure the line is exactly where he left it, and then taking a giant wrecking ball to it. Because now, Oliver is saying things that should absolutely not be said in interviews, or to anyone in the general public, at all. Now, he's elevating the conversation from pure speculation, to actively confirming and placing the blame at people's feet for things that have gone on behind the scenes.

Saying that Buck's Queer storyline was floated years ago? Huge no-no. Why? You were on tumblr yesterday. You can see why. People were angry, and people were hurt, but most importantly, people started to ask questions. We started to look at past arcs, past moments in Buck and in Buck and Eddie's relationship (because, whether you like it or not, Buck's queerness is and always has been tangentially linked to the existence of Buddie) to try and pinpoint when/how his queer arc could have launched. Now. Most of us have been here for years, so we can easily look back at the show and see where it's pretty damn obvious how Buck's Queer arc could have launched, depending on the arc(s), the characters at the time, things that were going on outside of the show (re: Oliver liking Buddie edits before/after the shooting), etc.

But we're not the only ones who are reading these interviews. Other people—casual fans, new fans, people who don't give a damn at all and are just clicking around on the internet—are going to look at these interviews, they're going to look at the things Oliver is saying, and they're going to have the same questions that we had. When could this have happened? And, more importantly, why didn't it? To keep it simple: everyone is going to start looking a little closer at the man behind the curtain, and the network does not want that.

Now, sure, it could be argued that, "hey, 911 isn't with FOX anymore, so maybe Oliver is allowed to say these things." But that's not really how it works. Sure, he might have a bit more leeway (as in, a microscopic, so-small-it-might-as-well-be-insignificant amount of leeway) to say whatever it is he wants, but this isn't the first time a major transfer/acquisition has occurred, and there are safeguards in place (such as NDA's—Non-Disclosure Agreements—which often do not expire for years post-acquisition, depending on the entity they're protecting) to prevent him from harming FOX's bottom line. So, that reasoning rings hollow. Especially because, now, it's not just FOX he's pulling into the fray either.

In the article that dropped today, he openly acknowledges this thing between Buck and Eddie in Season 7. And at this point, we're well into ABC's era. So the fact that he's saying, "I went to Tim and asked if there's something I can play with when Eddie says he's going on a date"—that's odd behavior from him. Not necessarily bad, just odd. And after years of toeing the line, the question that has to be asked now is why? And, more importantly, why now?

Does this mean that Buddie is going canon? Not necessarily (and, before anyone freaks out, I'm not saying it's not going canon either; I'm just saying this isn't an indication). But The Buddie Problem, at least, in the way Oliver is addressing it, is something the Higher Ups would want to keep quiet for as long as possible, for whatever reason. Maybe because they intend to go forward with it. Maybe because they don't. But the fact that he's cracking the shades open and letting light through is deeply fascinating.

But, despite all this, it's important, also, to realize that, even with demolishing the good PR line he's always walked so carefully, Oliver still isn't promising us anything. He's still treading carefully regarding how we, Buddie shippers, will interpret his words. He's not claiming Buddie canon is a go and it'd be remiss to think that's the implication here when it's not. He's not that stupid, and he's not that cruel. But all of it is very curious.

So that's why a lot of us are looking at each other, and then looking at Oliver, wondering what the hell he's doing. Because he knows better, and we know he knows better. We know he's very good at playing this delicate game but right now, he's making moves that are... intriguing... to say the least. And it's not just him, even though he's the main culprit. 9-1-1's move to ABC—and this entire press junket since 7x4—has been rife with sensitive information being released to the public, starting with Lou's untrained self revealing that it was supposed to be Eddie and Tommy that were going to get together, and circling back around to... literally every single word Oliver has uttered in the past three weeks.

So. It's odd! As you can see. So I'm sitting back, and I'm waiting and seeing because something is happening behind the scenes, and I don't know what it is (and I don't even think it's bad!) but it is still very much happening. So.

#god this was so long and i'm so fucking late for work #jack answers mail #tv: 911 #oliver stark

157 notes · View notes

6ix9inewiturmom · 15 hours

Text

Camera Caught- Matt Sturniolo

Summary: you accidentally left some hickeys on matt’s neck and the fans catch it, start making edits, and matt “punishes” you

Warnings: SMUT, degradation, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, squirting, oral (female receiving), P in V, Unprotected sex, praising, slight crying.

A/N: I LOVE YOU ALL ENJOYY

PSA: I GIVE NO RIGHTS TO COPY MY WORK OR USE MY WORK FOR “INSPIRATION”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Matt and I’s relationship has been very very private, we've been trying to keep it that way till we both collectively agreed to go public. Matt was down in the garage filming for a Friday video and I was endlessly scrolling on TikTok, I came across this edit of Matt, I didn't think much of it till i saw the comments.

Mattscupsupremacy: THE HICKEY?! WHO IS SHE?? MATTS A FREAKY GAL

Chrissypoohmylover: UHM MATTHEW?? what a freaky man.. she’s one lucky girl to be getting that fire dick

Nickismyqueen: WHY IS NO ONE POINTING OUT THE FACT HES NOT EVEN TRYING TO COVER IT UP??

Yamother6629: we lost another one girls… Funeral at my place at 6 pm tmr 😔💔

Thefourthtriplet5239: MATT SEEMED SO VANILLA.. who would ever guess that man is kinky?

“No no no” I say panicking out loud and immediately jumping out of bed and running through the house and busting the door open to the garage where Nick, Matt, and Chris are barging into the garage which sends the boys into an immediate panic

“Okay so you can edit this out of the video but it's an emergency,” I say out of breath.

“Girl go the fuck on, you said it’s an emergency, spill let’s go” Nick says snapping his fingers.

“Okay, patience, so I was scrolling through TikTok like normally waiting for you guys to finish filming and I scroll across this Matt edit,” I say trying to find the edit on my phone.

“Y/N how many times do I have to tell you to stop watching edits of me, I'm right here no need to fangirl over me,” Matt says with a sense of cockyness in his voice.

“No no hold on it gets better, so I scroll through the comments cause you know it's funny watching as the 12-year-olds talk about you being their ‘baby’-” start before Chris cut me off

“GET TO THE FUCKING POINT YAPPER,” Chris says throwing his hands in the air

“Says the one who goes on about putting a literal tit milk-drinking infant in the backseat of a car with no car seat. So let's not talk about her yapping” nick defends.

“ANYWAYS, Matt you forgot to cover your hickeys from the other night and everyone knows about it now, cause when you moved out of frame your hoodie must have come down, and there are edits and people calling you ‘vanilla’ whatever the hell that means, and like everyone is wondering who the girl is and I'm like panicking now,” I say with panic in my voice “I know you weren't ready to go public but everyone is like freaking the fuck out” I continue.

“Fuck, I thought the hoodie was a good cover” matt sighs “look its fine well figure it out after I'm done filming just go back inside and calm the hell down” he gives me a quick peck on my forehead and shutting the door of the car.

A couple of minutes later I got a text from matt, normally he does send me the occasional ‘i love you, almost done filming’ message but this one was a little different.

Matty B Rapz 💍

you’re in big trouble for getting us caught

i hope you ain’t tired cause you’re in for a long night

This wasn't out of the normal for Matt to be rough with me but over text? This is new, but I love it. I could feel myself getting soaked at all the possible ways Matt could fuck me, all the positions, thinking of all the ways in which he could make me cum.

After an hour and a half of endless scrolling through TikTok, I can hear the footsteps of Matt through the hallway.

“Hi baby, how was filming?” I say as he walks in the door immediately shutting it and locking it.

“Don't ‘baby’ me, strip,” he says harshly as his eyes darken with lust.

A smirk appeared on my lips, and moved off the bed walking towards him as I placed my phone down on the bedside table and slowly and teasingly removed my pants and shirt leaving me in my light pink lingerie set that I knew drove him insane, the way it hugged my curves, pushed my Brests up with a small delicate flower in the middle, and my underwear that sat and hung onto my hips with another small flower in the middle of it.

“So fucking sexy,” Matt says under his breath causing a light shade of pink to appear on my cheeks.

Matt wraps his arms around my torso and unclips my bra letting my breasts fall and the straps of my bra fall off my arms. He lightly pushes me back so I'm sitting on our shared bed as he places a deep and passionate kiss on my lips.

I yearn for more of his lips but he pulls away from me and starts trailing light kisses down my jaw and to my neck and sucking harshly on my neck so we have matching marks on my neck and soft moans escaping my lips.

“Since you had to go and get us caught,” he starts before sucking harsher in my neck in a pattern this time. “Everyone's gonna know who you belong to now” he pulls away walking back a couple of steps to admire the marks he left on my neck.

‘M’

His initial was spelled out on my neck.

“And you're not gonna cover that up. Got it?” he spits walking towards me and wrapping his hand around my neck.

“Yes, Matt” I whisper out

“Good fucking girl” he removes his hand from my neck and pushes me down so my back is now on the bed flat.

He lowers his body down, basically on his knees, and he leaves kisses down my stomach before kissing over my clothed pussy and a soft whimper comes out of my lips.

Using his teeth he guides my underwear off my legs and throws them on the floor with a smirk plastered on his face.

His face between my legs was always a sight for sore eyes, never failed to turn me on the way his blue eyes always stared at me through his eyelashes. He places small kisses around my thighs eventually making his way down to my dripping pussy and placing kisses everywhere around it but where I need him the most.

“Matt, please” I plead.

“What are you begging for? Use that filthy mouth of yours and tell me what you want” he says harshly.

“I need your mouth, please” i whine.

He smirks and uses his tongue to move up and down my folds collecting my juices he lets out a groan as the taste of my pussy touches his tongue. His lips attach to my clit sucking harshly on it.

“FUCK MATT” My back arches and my eyes roll back basically seeing my brain.

His tongue explores every inch of me as he keeps a steady gaze on me and how my body reacts to his mouth. His fingers trail into my begging hole that's clenched around the air begging to be fulfilled curling his slim fingers upward reaching a spot I could never reach by myself.

“MATT” I scream out as My thighs close his head in.

“Legs stay open” he mutters through my pussy.

His fingers now moving at a pace that's driving me absolutely insane, his muted moans against my pussy is only turning me on more.

“close” i breathe out trying not to strain my voice.

“hold it,” he says muttering against me as his nose flicks my clit digging his face deeper into my pussy. He was almost moaning as much as I was, typically he didn't even care if he cums, he gets off at watching me come unglued from his mouth or fingers.

“Please” I repeat pleading with matt.

“No, you're gonna hold it and you're gonna show me how much of a good girl you can be” he lifts his head continuing his pace with his fingers.

His gaze never left me, the way my back arched off the bed and my eyes rolled back just at his fingers was always so amusing to him.

“You always look so beautiful wrapped around my fingers,” he says smirking down at me and taking his lower lip between his teeth as he continues to arch his fingers inside me.

“PL-PLEA- CUM” i mutter unable to form a coherent sentence.

“Go ahead baby, let it all out” he coos in my ear in a low raspy voice.

The knot in my stomach snaps, and my orgasm hits me like a bus, my legs shake as my cum drips down into his fingers. he removes his fingers licking off my cum from them.

“Face down ass up, I ain't done with you” he says sternly.

I slowly nod turning around and holding myself up by my elbows taunting my ass around in the air. Matt smirks to himself removes his hoodie, and quickly removes his boxers and pants throwing all his clothes somewhere in the room.

I feel the bed dip down from the weight of his knees behind me. He reaches his arm around to my mouth places his hand below my mouth.

“Spit” he says harshly.

I obey spitting in his hand as he uses my spit to rub around the tip of his cock moving his hand up and down to coat his cock.

Matt aligns himself with my entrance and immediately bottoms out letting a loud groan escape his lips as my hips jerk backward and a loud whine leaks from my lips.

“You think you're so fucking innocent huh? Leaving those fucking hickeys on my neck” he spits thrusting harshly into me gripping onto my hair and pushing my head far into the mattress.

“I-im SO-SORRY” I scream into the mattress.

“Oh, you're sorry? If you were sorry you wouldn't be creaming all over my fucking. dick.” he says thirsting harder to annunciate his last two words as his head hangs low to look down at the white rim that's formed around the base of his cock.

“FUCKK” I whine out with tears starting to form in my eyes from the overstimulation. “CANT- CANT-TAKE” I muffle out as his hand pushes my head farther in the bed.

“You wanted this” he grunts “You take it” his hand travels down my body and starts to toy with my sensitive clit.

“OH BABY-” i scream out as my cervix begins to twitch around his cock signaling how close I was.

“Oh you think you're gonna cum soon?” he taunts rubbing faster on my clit as his thrusts begin getting sloppier.

“Pl-pl-please” I whisper yell to him.

“You're so fucking pathetic” he groans out using both hands and pressing my waist down the bed and rolling his hips into me getting deeper and kissing my cervix with his cock.

My legs began to shake and tremble “CLOSE” i choke out. his grip on my waist loosens up as he leans down and kisses my back.

“let it go, baby, let it all out” With that, the knot in my stomach breaks and I squirt all over the bed leaving a wet mess beneath me. “God damn baby you're so fucking sexy” he leaves small kisses on my neck as his thrusts got even sloppier.

“Oh fuck” he buries his head in my neck and groans as his cum begins to shoot out of him filling my hole of his cum.

He softly pulls out of me rolling me over now laying on my back and gives me a soft peck on the lips.

“Let me clean you up, yeah?” he smiles down at me and I shoot him a small smile back.

He throws on the same pair of sweatpants from earlier and walks softly and carefully to the bathroom wetting a small rag and bringing it back into the room.

“You did amazing, Y/N” he smiles up at me as he carefully runs the warm wash rag down my legs and anywhere else that was covered in cum.

“I am sorry about getting us caught, I know that we didn't want to go public just yet” I softly whisper as he makes his way next to me bringing me into his arms and placing a kiss down on my head.

“Hey, don't worry about it. We'll figure it out in the morning. But for now, just get some sleep," he says, running his fingers through my hair and occasionally kissing my head. We eventually drifted asleep, intertwined with each other.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A/N PT 2 HI LOVES!! IDK how to feel ab this one but i hope you guys enjoyed it! I hope you're doing amazing!! And have an amazing day/night/evening!!

Xoxo

Gabs 💋

#Spotify #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo

147 notes · View notes

helly-watermelonsmellinfellon · 3 days

Text

There's something I don't see talked about enough in the SVSSS fandom.

The System.

I just received a comment on one of my fics - which has post-canon SQQ and SQH able to still use social media - suggesting that it would be very easy for people in the real world to point out that these characters using fake accounts to post on real life social media sites would easily be doxxed and the System would have no ability to do anything about that.

Something I have noticed among a lot of people who read this particular book is that not a lot of consideration is given to the very thing orchestrating everything. We often think of the system as a ridiculous guide or rule book that exists solely to give the protagonist what he wants/deserves. We don't really approach it for what it is.

This was my reply to that comment:

Doubt it. The System is able to kidnap people from their worlds and place them in other worlds and bodies in those worlds as punishment. And if you don't do as it wants, to the specification it doesn't directly detail, it can send your soul to an alternate version of the present world to be tortured in another body. I sincerely doubt an abstract, otherworldly being like that, which never receives consequences for anything it does because there is apparently nothing that can canonically challenge it, is going to be threatened by doxxing. If it can create things, link universes together, steal souls, and can be anywhere at any time, I wouldn't expect it to be incapable of manipulating people's perception. I even mentioned how in this fic, it WILL erase SQQ's sister's memories if he chooses to reveal his identity to her, but it becomes too much for her to handle. This suggests it has power anywhere and can do whatever it wants. So, in my mind, if someone actually tried to doxx their accounts, it's either going to lead nowhere, lead to somewhere fake, or the info will be stripped from their lives entirely the moment they find anything/nothing.

It was a very nitpicky kind of comment in my opinion, which warranted this response, but my response just made me realize that the System is effectively an amortal, omnipresent, and omnipotent Entity. It literally doesn't go away. We even think it's over and the Extras tell us, via SQH, that it's still there and still in control.

Think about it.

Think about every single thing that happened because of the System's actions or demands. It literally never faces consequences because there is nothing that could hope to punish it. I've only read 1 fic where higher beings step in to punish the System for kidnapping, coercing, and torturing innocent people for its amusement.

Because that IS something it can do. With ease. And seems all too happy to do.

The System is very dangerous and it's weird how this is something people forget when reading fanfics. SVSSS is the kind of book where crack ideas can work in the frame of the canon story because a character like SQH exists. Because he wrote PIDW with every single plothole and contrived story beat for the sake of money and survival, we can have the weirdest shit happen and blame it on his lack of imagination when writing PIDW. It doesn't need in-depth nitpicking to make it make sense. MXTX gave us a very large and generous sandbox to play in.

You don't need to rationalize a crack plot. And you should always keep in mind that canonically, the System is a terrifying Entity capable of outrageous things. It shouldn't be the deal-breaker that the Entity that kidnaps, gaslights, coerces, tortures, and manipulates people is capable of fantastical feats in a fanfic.

#svsss #bingqiu #shen qingqiu #shang qinghua

89 notes · View notes

justanotherlifeff · 21 hours

Text

Love is meaningless

[True form heian era Sukuna x reader. I may have taken many creative liberties with his backstory alongside certain spoilers so be warned!]

Love is meaningless, this was something Sukuna believed for most of his life. He can proclaim it precisely because he understands it. Being born a wretched curse by his foolish starving mother was not a start to life he had appreciated, but it was what it was. Fate was that he absorbed his twin for nourishment, fate was that he was born monstrous. One can only live with fate and become stronger, after all. Of course, he had to raise himself, of course he had to get stronger to survive. The golden age of Jujutsu meant many other cursed spirits, and of course, humans were no better. Weak people shouldn’t complain about their transgressions after all. That is simply how the world is built, to please the strong.

Yet, unexpected things happen, as it is part of life as well. Some people find it in their stupid, human, hearts to love a monster. And sometimes, something as meaningless as love creeps up in a monster’s heart too if they are weak enough. Sukuna wasn’t born the king of curses after all. It was a meaningless gesture that one might call kindness, something he believed that he didn’t deserve, that started it all. Just like his mother who birthed him, this foolish girl gave him an apple from her basket when he was starving. A foolish act of kindness from a human to a cursed being. He accepted nonetheless, as a starving man would, since this was before the days when he took whatever he wanted.

The days when he was weak enough to be considerate. For some reason, you kept coming back, with food every time, and for some reason, he didn’t leave the outskirts of that village after the first few encounters. He convinced himself that it was because your cooking was amazing, not because he wanted to see that smile on your face again, not because he was getting addicted to that kindness. Why would a human be kind to the likes of him after all? Surely, he was being delusional. However, weeks turned to months, and you wouldn’t stop visiting the small cave where he was living at, since no one would give him shelter or a job due to his monstrous features. Somehow you weren’t afraid of the four arms, the four eyes, the odd markings on his body. Somehow, you made conversation with him at one point as you watched him eagerly eat whatever food you brought him and somehow, he found himself replying. Hope was something that the weak shouldn’t have and yet, he found it in you, he made that mistake.

Looking at water in streams was something he hated, because it showed him his inhumanity and made the struggles he faced his entire life be something that was acceptable. Who would care for a monster after all? And yet, one day, you looked at him and called him beautiful with a blush on your pretty little face. He didn’t know how to reply to that, as someone who never encountered a situation like that before and yet, he couldn’t sleep all night, thinking of those words. He awkwardly called you beautiful too the next day.

Small compliments turned into teasing and at one point, neither you nor he had to say it out loud that you loved each other. It was simply something that happened. However, you had to keep it a secret from the village, and he understood why. Loving something like him had its consequences as they would kill you for being with a curse. He understood the consequences but his hunger for you was far too much to ignore. It started with kisses, and then he wanted more, so much more. And you let him take what he wanted with a smile on your face, that same smile he fell in love with. Even your old kimonos started looking like ones that queens would wear, your simple hairpin was better than the highest quality jade to him. You were beautiful and you were his and that was the best thing that happened in his wretched life at the time. Or at least, he was foolish and weak enough to believe so.

During his days as the king of curses, he saw the women he fucked as no more than pieces of meat that exist for his pleasure. One might think he wasn’t capable of being gentle, of having any other expression than the ruthless and deranged smile that adorns his face. Yet, his first time was so different, as he looked upon your beauty with nothing but wonder in his eyes, not believing his own luck as you were naked underneath him, that beautiful tint of red adorning your face. Perhaps that was when he found himself loving the color red so much, it was never about the blood of the thousands he killed later in life. You looked beautiful even with your old kimonos, but you looked divine without it, and he wasn’t shy enough to keep that opinion to himself, mostly because he wanted to see that blush on your face when he says it out loud. He wanted to hear you call out his name in that affectionate and yet pleasured voice when he was deep inside you. He wanted you, all of you, even if he didn’t deserve you.

The weak gets trampled on, it isn’t something they should complain about as it is the way of life. He almost had you, the day you came to him with a worried expression on your face and told him that you may be expecting his child. For a moment, he dreamed, despite being weak. He asked you to elope with him, that he would protect you. He knew that the child he sired would be cursed too, and that you were unmarried, so of course, overall, you would be killed if he left you alone. He loved you far too much to even consider that. “Come with me, Ill take you far from here and protect you. I’ll make sure nothing hurts you or our child. I’ll get stronger for you.” He told you with that gruff tone of his. To his surprise, you agreed. However, you were a kind little thing full of hope. You wanted to see your parents one last time before leaving with him forever. He didn’t understand it, but he wanted you to be happy, so he suggested making a binding vow. A part of him felt wary as all these felt too good to be true.

The vow was simple, it was to live as long as you can. He was still new to forming binding vows, so he forgot to acknowledge the fact that breaking the vow didn’t mean much if someone else killed you. Only that your death would be far more painful. Things were peaceful, too peaceful. He ate the food you cooked him, talked with you about a future together, looked at the sun set together. Like every day, you left him after that with a kiss on his cheek. Yet, he felt uneasy enough to sneak near the village that night after hearing the commotion.

It didn’t take long to find you, as you were right there, in the middle of the village square, or at least your severed head was. The blood splattered everywhere indicated the effects of the binding vow, your entire body exploded when your head was cut. Perhaps you were weak and ended up telling your parents, perhaps somehow, they found out that you were pregnant with his child, he would never know. That village burned that night and not a single person there survived. As he stood there, watching whatever was left of you burn with the village, it was almost as if he achieved enlightenment. The weak shouldn’t complain, so he wasn’t complaining. He would get stronger so that he would be the one taking, to fill the void that was created this day. His hunger was endless because he would never eat the food you cook again. Love is meaningless, because without you, this world lost its meaning.

#sukuna #sukuna ryomen #ryoumen sukuna #jjk sukuna #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n

98 notes · View notes

raisedbythetv89 · 3 days

Text

The writers I think mostly completely by accident with the assistance of James charming his way into becoming a main character created the perfect storm to ensure people who love spike would reach absolute peak levels of being completely obsessively deranged about him forever

Season 2:

He’s a punk rock villain with killer cheekbones, enchanting eyes, and an absolutely DEVILISH smile - who’s an incredibly dedicated and dangerous fighter who specifically seeks out challenging fights he’s not guaranteed to win (brave and reckless - normally traits seen in heroes) hates everyone except his mentally ill physically sick wife (the statistics of men who leave their wives when they get sick in the US is horrifying like nurses literally have to warn married women who get sick it happens so often) who he’s hopelessly devoted to and unbelievably soft with and always listens to her while also exuding a psychotic amount of sex appeal and is just F U N he loves being a vampire and he loves fighting and it makes it so much fun for the audience. While still showing how much he respects and admires his enemy for her skill, strength, resourcefulness, and intelligence - NEVER underestimating her just because she’s a tiny blonde girl - and instead of destroying the world for love he SAVES the world for love - a villain doing good to get the love of his life back who essentially dumped him for her ex????????? D E V O T E D and shockingly extremely trustworthy??? And has amazing chemistry with our heroine and is there for a pivotal moment in her life and is the only one there for her when she has no one else????? *enemies to lovers girlies ENTER THE CHAT*

Season 3:

He shows he fucking MEANS IT when he says Dru is the love of his life when he shows up in Sunnydale because he blames Angel not Buffy or Drusilla but the man actually responsible for all their problems and he is the most pathetic mess we’ve ever SEEN!!!! He’s crying and drunk all the time and he’s so sad he goes to Buffy’s mom TO TALK 💀😭 our pathetic sensitive little self admitted lover boy who KNOWS he’s love’s bitch and he won’t be pretending he’s anything otherwise who shows how clearly he sees and understands other people and the depths of his emotional intelligence so much so Buffy herself admits she can’t fool Spike she can fool her friends BUT NOT SPIKE OR HERSELF EXCUSE ME MA’AM WHAT???????

AND Spike doesn’t just uselessly MOPE forever he gets some perspective and is like I know what I’m gonna do to her back and I’m gonna go do that now! 😁👍🏻 showing he never stays down for long and is always gonna get back up to keep fighting for his love while BOTH he and Buffy still honor the truce even though he’s broken it by coming back??? While Buffy’s all “I violently dislike you” YEAH OK GIRL WHATEVER YOU SAY *enemies to lovers girlies chomping at the bit intensifies*

Season 4:

CLEARLY heartbroken about Drusilla (DEVOTED!!!) but it’s turned into anger and resentment directed at Harmony who how bizarre looks nothing like Drusilla but A LOT like Buffy…… hmmmmmmmmmmmmm HOW INTERESTING *enemies to lovers girlies are vibrating with anticipation that turns into a full blown combustion when something blue happens*

Spike doesn’t pretend to love Harmony in order to get what he wants from her (shown in direct contrast to Parker) he’s ironically very honest despite being a villain - he’s showing he’s STILL loyal to Drusilla in ONLY loving her even after she’s dumped him... again!

We see Spike treat Buffy the EXACT same way he treated Drusilla during something blue reaffirming THIS IS HOW THIS MAN LOVES WHEN HE LOVES YOU. He’s extremely affectionate, helpful, protective, caring - D E V O T E D - and is truly just the most certified lover boy we’ve ever fucking seen

Season 5:

SURPRISE HE’S SECRETLY A LOVESICK MAMA’S BOY POET AT HEART UNDERNEATH THE BAD BOY PERSONA AND A PROTECTIVE BIG BROTHER AND NOW BUFFY AND HER FAMILY’S MOST LOYAL DEFENDER AND IS WILLING TO DIE NOT JUST FOR BUFFY BUT FOR ALL THE SUMMERS WOMEN AND HE KNOWS AND SEES BUFFY SO DEEPLY AND INTIMATELY AND CAN HOLD SPACE FOR HER PAIN LIKE NO ON ELSE CAN AND SHOWS THE DEVOTION THAT ONCE BELONGED TO DRUSILLA NOW BELONGS TO BUFFY AND IT IS GOING NOWHERE EVEN WHEN SHE DIES AND WE'VE SEEN IN HIM CRY BEFORE BUT NEVER HAVE WE SEEN HIM BREAK DOWN LIKE HE DOES AT THE SIGHT OF BUFFY'S BODY!!!!!!!!!!!

*all of us screaming, crying, throwing up, climbing the walls and generally just losing our minds*

Season 6:

No soul, his love is so great for Buffy as is his loyalty and devotion to her, he now helps all of his dead love’s friends fight evil and is raising her sister and dreams of saving her every night for 148 nights 🤚🏻😭 don’t even fucking talk to me I can’t take it

Forgive the absolute 180 in tone change here:

Dick game is FIRE - his touch is the only thing that makes Buffy feel alive AND SHE WAS IN HEAVEN BRO SHE KNOWS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO BE IN HEAVEN AND SPIKE IS THE ONLY THING KEEPING HER GOING like damn girl yes YOU FUCK THAT HOUSE DOWN!!! Also he is now just naked 50% of the time just to drive us all even FURTHER out of our minds and somehow has just gotten even hotter as the seasons have gone on like this is what’s been hiding under the leather jacket all this time! Enjoy!

And THE MOST unintended consequence of jw’s vindictive writing:

SPITE

He clearly didn’t want us to love Spike and tried to manipulate us into hating him in such a blatant and clumsy ooc attempt all that did was weed out the weakest amongst the Spuffy/Spike fans until all that remained were us:

The most devoted and stubborn fans who REFUSED to have the thing they loved ruined or taken away from us and were smart enough to see through his bullshit manipulation attempt in the first place.

Genuinely they created the equivalent of supersoilder strength level fans with this absolutely lethal combination of events 💀

AND THEN as if all that wasn't enough he goes and gets his soul on purpose for Buffy so he can be the man she deserves and she can love him without hating herself for loving him despite the immense pain it will cause him which is the most selfless thing we have ever seen anyone do for Buffy only to be topped when he sacrifices himself to destroy the hellmouth, save the world and free her from Sunnydale!!! Plus ya know once he gets the soul even though he did it for her he never tries to use that as leverage to get anything from her like he truly expects nothing from her at all but still wants to help her and James delivers the most devastating performances we've ever fucking seen, finally tells her friends off which has needed to happen for 5 seasons, the "you're the one speech" him being a dad to all the potentials with Buffy giving us supernatural parent core who made it through their rough patch with their first kid in season 6 with Dawn and now are just the beautiful team with their found family and Buffy finally has someone who can truly carry her burdens with her and just all the tenderness and devotion they both deserve after so many years of pain and fighting. Basically giving the audience the message that even if you have a metric ton of pain and trauma there are people out there who see you and understand you and there is a chance for you to heal both together and separately to build your own version of a more normal and stable life. It's a message of such hope and I personally know several people, including myself who watched what Spike and Buffy have and it inspired us to look at the relationships we were in and realize we deserved SO MUCH MORE than what we were getting and in my case it turned out I was being emotionally abused and manipulated that entire time!! Much like Buffy was by both Riley and Angel. So it isn't an exaggeration to say Spuffy saved my life in a lot of ways both in being there for me at such a dark time and helping me draw a map of how to get out. Not to mention loving them in fandom spaces has helped me connect with so many people just like me who share very similar experiences and have helped me feel so much less alone and has helped me heal in so many ways 🖤

Spuffies get "hOw cAn yOu liKe sPiKe aFtEr wHaT hE dId" all the fucking time and truly the better question is how can you NOT like Spike???? HAVE YOU BEEN PAYING ATTENTION AT ALL??? DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT GOOD RELATIONSHIPS NEED TO WORK?? BECAUSE AT THEIR CORE SPUFFY HAS THEM ALL!

It's jw writing so NOTHING will escape his toxic bullshit but Spike - because he was hated by jw for so long - so much of the time when he tried to make Spike less popular he just kept making him better and more complex and more and more targeted to the female gaze which is exactly why he snapped and made the choices he literally forced everyone else to go along with despite their protests with that scene to make it the most traumatizing scene in all of Buffy history not just for the audience but for the actors as well because yes it is incredibly horrific and upsetting to watch (which is why I skip it on rewatches) but I still am able to see if for what it is which is a narcissist lashing out at people he hates because he hasn't been able to control them and too bad for him I refuse to be manipulated by his bullshit so it failed completely and made so many of us that much more stubbornly protective of Spike and his and Buffy's relationship not just from other fans but from the creator himself 🙃🖕🏻like he basically just trauma bonded us to Spike and Buffy which has led to the creation of one of the most devoted, loyal, intelligent fanbases who is absolutely unhinged (affectionate) with their love of this character and his relationship which is why we are all still creating and writing about this character 25 year later and show absolutely zero signs of slowing down or stopping 💀

#spuffy #spike btvs #meta #btvs meta #spike and buffy meta #spike btvs meta #spuffy meta #also every spuffy I know shares so much life experiences and personality traits with buffy herself like we are often making choices #and judgements about the narrative from the perspective of buffy herself & we’re all picking spike #so many people who pick other love interests truly so often rarely see buffy for who she is either #if you don’t get spuffy you don’t truly understand buffy herself

124 notes · View notes