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#but then he started to try to make conversation and he says hi to me in the halls
tossawary · 3 days
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I like the "settle down, get married, have kids" ending for Ed in "Fullmetal Alchemist" because it suits the themes and the characters well. But also because there's still plenty of room for adventure beyond the joys of a simple life (it is fun to imagine Ed picking up a million homesteading-related hobbies with all his usual competitive spirit); Winry has a thriving career! She and Ed can travel around the country, visit people, and probably even visit Xing before kids or when their kids are old enough for travel.
But I also like it fine because I feel 100% certain that Edward Elric would not have children unless he was 100% certain that he wanted them and was ready to be a good dad. He would not bring life into this world recklessly. I feel like he would have asked himself, "Is there any chance I might be a deadbeat dad?" and that he was absolutely ruthless with his analysis of his character, like, to the degree that it quickly stopped being funny or embarrassing and started being sad. He'd try and get his own Riza Hawkeye about this: "If it ever looks like I'm being a shitty father or husband, I need you to kill me," he says, sleep-deprived and panicking, and Alphonse can only be like, "Brother... No..."
Also, I feel like we shouldn't leave Winry out of this. This woman is driven and successful and was orphaned because her parents left her for a good cause. She and Ed would sit their asses down and have an excruciatingly thorough and detailed conversation about parenthood and their future. I could buy an AU where they mutually decided to be childfree, sure, but I cannot be fully convinced that they as a team would be reckless about children and parenthood.
I'm sure they'd make mistakes, of course, as all parents do. (I also feel like they would try and make plans with the same focus as automail schematics and alchemic circles, which would often be immediately ruined upon contact with the "enemy". And that Uncle Alphonse would shamelessly and mischievously spoil his niblings against parental wishes whenever his brother's back was turned. Traitor.) But they're also one of those couples where I see them in the cliché "happily ever after" and I can genuinely be like, "Yeah, they're fine."
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xorafe · 2 days
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watch and learn (part two)
pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader
rating explicit 18+
content warning drug and alcohol use
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summary it takes one conversation with your college dorm neighbor to know you won’t get along. rafe is loud, rude, and short-tempered. after he overhears you talking about a disappointing fling, he loses his confidence in his sexual abilities and suggests you start hooking up to both improve your skills in the bedroom. you can’t stand him, but it’s too good of an offer to turn down.
» masterlist
*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*
You’re at the library the next morning, enjoying how quiet campus is on a Saturday. You’re trying to focus on a discussion board you need to respond in, but your mind is elsewhere.
You can’t believe you agreed to Rafe’s idea. But you don’t regret it. He may be a jerk through and through, but he’s surprisingly a really good listener in bed.
You’re pretty sure he gave you the best orgasm you’ve ever had with someone. While it was an awkward challenge guiding him, you realized how liberating it was getting exactly what you wanted instead of quietly hoping the guy you were with knew what to do.
Your phone buzzes and lights up with a text. It’s 9:44 am and the notification is from Rafe.
Rafe: if you ever want practice sucking dick let me know
You flush and instinctually look around to make sure nobody in the barren library can see your screen. You reply: good morning to you too.
You take a second and send another message. The thought of going down on him rouses you. And, of course, the feedback will be helpful.
You: might take you up on that
Rafe: might?
You: might :)
Rafe is lying in bed, nursing a minor hangover. When he thinks about what happened on the other side of the wall in your room last night, he gets turned on all over again.
Feeling you cum around his fingers was fucking amazing. Knowing he did that to you, made you shake like that, was like an achievement. And he wants to keep doing it.
He texts you: we’re having a party on the beach today. bring friends
Rafe’s brand new to the frat, but he has already learned how important it is to invite as many people as he can to events. And if he’s being honest, he really wants to see you again.
You: only if you dont hit on them. i cant subject them to that
He feels his lips quirk up in a smile. When you don’t have a stick up your ass, you’re actually kind of entertaining.
Rafe: wtf why
You: you’re a fuckboy
Rafe: nahh you said i was amazing
You: i said the sex was amazing. and thats only because i told you what to do
Rafe: you can’t take all the credit
You: watch me
Rafe: you’re annoying
You: YOU’RE annoying
You: send me the address and time for the party
He quickly sends you the details.
This is the best idea he’s ever had. No strings attached sex with a hot girl who has zero interest in a relationship and can be brutally honest with him. He gets to fuck and improve his skills. It’s a dream.
Later that afternoon, Rafe watches the setting sun as he hangs out with a couple of his frat brothers in the sand. The party’s slowly starting to fill up, conversations growing in volume over the sound of the waves crashing on the shore.
“We don’t host a lot of parties here,” Blake continues to explain to Rafe.
Blake’s a sophomore legacy and Rafe has slowly realized that he sort of looks up to him. He’s involved in the frat and seems to know everybody.
“It’s ‘cause it’s impossible to get people to pay cover, so we don’t even ask for it,” Blake says.
“No door to do it at,” Sam, another sophomore adds with a laugh. Blake looks back and shakes his head.
“Fun police is here,” he hollers. Rafe turns to see pacing towards the keg next to the same girl he saw you with last night.
His pulse quickens as he takes you in. Your shorts are barely covering anything. Damn.
You glare at Blake as you pick up a red solo cup.
“Kidding,” Blake says. “We were kinda being assholes the other night, weren’t we?”
Your lips twist into a small smile. Rafe isn’t sure why, but he doesn’t like you looking at Blake like that.
He didn’t mention to anyone that you two hooked up last night. No particular reason - it just didn’t come up. But clearly, he’ll have to fill the guys in later. They need to know you’re off limits.
“Thanks for admitting it,” you say, filling up your cup. “Why can’t you be my neighbor?”
You look over at Rafe, whose jaw is clenched. Him and that temper. Admittedly, you’re already kind of sexually frustrated over how good he looks in his tank top, his big biceps exposed.
“Life’s unfair,” Blake replies with a bigger grin. You return it. It makes Rafe’s blood run hot.
“I guess it is,” you say as your friend finishes filling up her cup.
You walk away and Rafe realizes he didn’t exchange a single word with you. The second you’re out of earshot, he leans towards his buddies.
“I’m hooking up with her,” he tells them.
“Your neighbour?” Sam laughs. “Cap. That chick hates you.”
Rafe almost tells him not to call you a chick because of your advice last night. Wow. He really is learning from you.
“Didn’t hate me last night.” He takes a sip of his beer.
“Wait, for real?” Blake asks.
“Yeah.” Rafe loves the confidence high he’s riding right now.
“How was it?” Blake asks.
Rafe decides to lie. Painting it as a boring experience will make his buddies lose any interest they might have in you.
“Fine,” he says casually. Yeah, right. It was incredible.
Rafe watches Blake turn, surely to check you out.
“She’s cute,” Blake mumbles.
“Bro code, man,” Sam says, slapping his friend’s chest. Rafe is kind of relieved he said that.
“Shit, my bad,” Blake says with a chuckle, looking at Rafe. “You like her?”
“Oh - no,” Rafe laughs. “No.”
“Then you wouldn’t mind if I talked to her, right?” Blake says it as more of a statement than a question.
Rafe realizes he shouldn’t care. This whole arrangement is so both of you can get better at sex with other people. He doesn’t know what got into him thinking you owed him loyalty. His impulse to be possessive serves no purpose here.
“Go for it,” Rafe says.
Dusk falls as you stand in a crowd with Liv, your feet sunken into the sand as you drink and chat.
You told her about your arrangement with Rafe and were surprised to hear how jealous she was, mentioning how rare it is to find a guy who cares about giving his girl an orgasm.
You had to clarify to her it’s because Rafe’s ego needs all the stroking it can get, especially in the bedroom. And that you are not his girl.
You know it’s a crazy situation to be in with someone, but it’s worth it. You’ll learn what you can from him, and he’ll do the same with you, and then you’ll use what you picked up with people you actually like.
As the night goes on, the crowd gets bigger and closer together. It’s dark at this point, the moon covered with clouds.
Rafe’s been looking at you all night, at your bare legs, thinking about how he had his mouth between them last night.
You feel your phone buzz in your back pocket. When you pull it out, you see a text from Rafe: you ever fucked in a car? or are you too scared lol
You look up to meet his gaze from eight feet away at most, shaking your head in incredulity as he smirks at you.
The abruptness of his message, the promise of doing something so outside your comfort zone, is thrilling. But still, you just have to mess with him.
You reply: too scared :( no thanks
You laugh at the way Rafe’s face contorts at his phone. He looks up at you.
You text again: jk let’s go
He flashes his middle finger to you and you return the gesture. He then cocks his head behind him to signal you to follow.
“Tip for you,” you say when you approach him, walking away from the crowd together. “Don’t flip off a girl you’re trying to fuck.”
“Is that not good foreplay?” Rafe asks with a smirk.
“Aw, did I teach you that word?” you say.
“I knew it before.”
“Sure,” you say. “Just like you knew that girls fake it.”
“You’re annoying,” he groans, amusement in his tone.
“You’re annoying” you say, echoing your text conversation from earlier. You playfully shove his shoulder. He hardly budges.
You approach the parking lot and Rafe pulls out keys to remotely unlock his car.
“Get in,” he says, stopping in front of a large black SUV and opening the right backseat door. You notice the luxury brand immediately.
“This is your car?”
“Got a motorcycle, too,” he replies smugly.
“It makes so much sense now.”
“What?”
“You’re rich,” you realize. Rafe shrugs in such a pompous way.
“And?”
“That’s why you’re so…” you begin. What’s the right word? Entitled? Arrogant? Shameless? “You.”
Rafe scoffs at you, unsure of how to take the comment and unsure if he should even care as you settle in his car. He ambles in behind you, settling on the leather seat and shutting the door.
You don’t feel shy to initiate like you did last night. You straddle him, immediately locking lips, feeling him freeze in what you think is surprise before his hands drag over your hips.
Rafe really wants to grab your ass but he remembers you telling him he shouldn’t jump right to groping.
He tastes like beer and he smells like cologne as you deepens the kiss, weaving your lips together. He dips his tongue into your mouth and your noses nudge together, wet lips smacking in his dark, quiet car.
He shuffles under you, the leather squeaking, allowing you to feel his hard-on between your legs, his hands finally wandering over your ass and gripping hard. Lust burns in your stomach.
Your mind drifts back to what he texted you this morning. You’ve been thinking about it all day. You sit back, unable to see much of Rafe in the darkness, but enough to see that his eyes are half-closed, drunk off the feeling.
“I wanna practice…” you say, stroking him over his shorts. “You know.”
“Say it,” Rafe coaches, his dimples caving into his cheeks. You roll your eyes. Right. This is why you’re doing this. To stop being so reserved.
“Sucking dick,” you finally say. Hearing and watching you as your words spill out of your mouth makes his skin prickle with excitement.
“My turn to teach you, huh?” Rafe’s voice is deep and husky, dripping with desire. You nod, your bottom lip trapped beneath your teeth as you continue to stroke him.
“Should I keep doing this?” you ask, palming him.
“You got it, baby,” he rasps lazily. “Touch it before you put it in your mouth.”
“Fuck,” you half-chuckle. Rafe smirks. He knows you love his dirty talk.
“You can talk, too,” he encourages. “Try it.”
You twist your lips in apprehension, but push yourself past your comfort zone.
“I’ve been thinking about doing this all day,” you admit, goosebumps blooming across your skin. “About how your cock is gonna feel down my throat.”
“Goddamn,” he groans, his hands gripping your ass tighter. How’d he get so lucky to be here right now? “That’s good.”
“Yeah?” you whisper, gratified. You unbutton his shorts and pull down his zipper.
“You liked the way it felt inside you last night, didn’t you?” he asks. He shifts to give you the space to pull down his shorts and boxers.
You watch him shut his eyes in pleasure as you wrap your bare hand around him, no fabric in the way anymore.
“I loved it,” you whisper, giving into the impulse to kiss him again. When your thumb rubs over the bead of warm precum on the head of his cock, he bites your bottom lip.
You move to position your head at his groin, your knees on the carpeted floor of his car. You lean forward, slowly putting your lips around the tip, feeling just how wet your panties are when you taste him.
“Shit,” he shudders. You slightly raise your head to dribble spit onto his thick cock, bringing your hand up to rub the moisture over his length.
“Sit up,” Rafe says. “I wanna watch you spit on it again.”
You straighten and the sight of your line of saliva dropping from your mouth to his dick makes Rafe feel like he might go crazy.
His cock is slick now, your hand sliding up and down it easily.
“Should I use both hands?” you ask.
“Yeah,” he huffs. You nod, both your palms rubbing over his girth, cupping and twisting.
He’s about to tell you to start using your mouth, but you drop a hand, leaving the other at his base, and take him in.
Your hot, wet mouth feels unbelievable. You start to suck and slide over him nicely, leaning up and down.
“Squeeze harder,” he instructs, and you nod with his cock still in your mouth, your hold stiffening at his base. You’d assume gripping this tight would hurt, but this is why you’re doing this with him. To learn.
You take a little more of him with every dip of your head, lips locked as spit dribbles down your chin. The sound of your slurping is fucking amazing to him. Your tongue twists and curls as you move.
“Keep using your tongue like that,” Rafe says to you, his words whispered and rushed. “And take as much of my cock as you can. Try to take all of it.”
You nod again, pushing down, gagging but reaching all of him, your nose touching his toned stomach.
“Fuck, yes,” he moans. “Good fucking girl.”
The praise makes you stir with enticement as you pull back, then take all of his length again, flicking your tongue.
“Just like that,” Rafe grunts, his voice hoarse. “Look at me.”
You meet his eyes in the shadowed car, his chest heaving. Rafe might just lose his mind at the way you look with your mouth stuffed with his cock. He reminds him this is supposed to be instructional.
“Guys love this shit, okay?” he says. “When you look up like that.”
You pull back, making him watch his cock slowly get uncovered as you pop off of him.
“Is it wet enough?” you ask.
“Yeah, baby, you’re doing a good job,” he replies. You nod and sink onto him again, starting to move faster, moving your hand in sync with your mouth.
“Hold my balls,” he tells you. “Not too tight.”
You obey, cupping the soft flesh with one hand while the other remains wrapped around his cock. You squeeze gently, massaging his balls and earning a deep groan from him.
Wow. You really are learning a lot from him.
Rafe feels his stomach tighten. He’s close.
“You gonna swallow?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you say, muffled and vibrating over his cock. You never have before, but you really want to impress Rafe and do this right.
He starts to shake, his voice reduced to a whimper. You feel him get even harder, then shudder.
His hot cum hits the back of your throat in one hard splash, trailed by short spurts. He moans his way through his orgasm, his load heavy.
You take it all, making him smile as he looks down at you, panting.
“That was… fuck…” Rafe huffs, titling his head back, his jawline sharp.
It’s pretty gratifying seeing such a big, loud, arrogant man reduced to this tired, heaving mess. He rakes a hand through his hair as you shift to sit next to him.
“A-plus?” you ask. You’re expecting him to tease you but he nods.
“Fuck yeah,” he laughs. “Give me a few minutes. I want you to show me how to make you cum on my dick.”
Nerves suddenly bubble in your stomach. Even after what you just did, the thought of fucking him in here makes you feel on edge.
“Let’s do that another night,” you say, adjusting your top.
“What? Why?” he asks. He looks at you, lips still parted as he breathes heavily.
“We could get caught.”
“The windows are tinted,” Rafe tells you. “Nobody knows we’re even in here.”
You look away, which by now, he has learned means you’re embarrassed.
“Holy shit, why do you get so nervous all of a sudden?” he laughs. “Do you feel bad for liking sex or something?”
You swallow hard. You never thought about it but... maybe he’s right. There always is a little bit of shame attached to every hook-up you have.
He called you out on your lack of confidence last night. Here he is, doing it again.
Rafe doesn’t understand how a girl can be so sure of herself one minute, then ashamed the next.
“Relax,” he says. “Don’t think. Just answer, understand?”
“Okay,” you say.
“Do you want to fuck?”
You nod.
“Say it.”
“Yeah, I do,” you relent.
“Then take your clothes off.”
(part three)
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verstappen-cult · 2 days
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Max is upset when you can't be at his side when the race weekend starts. Then when you're back to his side, I guarantee you can't not leave his side at all. This boy is going to stick with you like a koala till he's satisfied
You couldn't join Max the past weekend in Australia due to your work and now you regret it so much. You could’ve just asked your boss for a few days off and she would have said yes, and you could have been by his side during the fiasco that was the Australian Grand Prix.
Max was a little upset when you told him that you would not be in Australia, but after a long conversation — that ended up with you promising to be in Suzuka — he understood. 
Max has to make a quick stop in Monaco to pick a few things before flying to Japan, so you planned to wait for him with a delicious dinner and his favorite dessert. But you didn’t even have time to go to the grocery store because Max decided to arrive earlier, much earlier.
“What do you mean you’re outside?” You squeal, putting on your sneakers. “Outside of where?” You hold your phone between your cheek and shoulder as you grab your bag, waving goodbye to your friends.
“The pilates studio.” He simply says. 
“No, you’re in Australia.”
He laughs, “No, I’m in Monaco.”
“No becau—” You stop dead in your tracks when you step outside because he is, in fact, there, leaning against his car. “Max!”
He opens his arms and you don’t waste any time, colliding against his body. You drop everything just to wrap your arms around his shoulders.
“I missed you so much.” You whisper against his neck, and you feel his smile when he kisses your cheek. 
“I couldn’t stay there any longer,” He shrugs, grabbing your things from the floor. “I missed my lucky charm this weekend.”
Your smile fades at the memory of Sunday’s race. “I’m sorry for what happened.” Max shrugs again, dismissing the topic with a wave of his hand. “How are you feeling?”
“These things happen. I won’t lie and say that I don’t care but we can’t cry about it, the team’s working on fixing everything and we’ll be back stronger than ever.”
You kiss him because there’s nothing else you could do. Hearing him talk that way when you know the old Max would have been beating himself up means everything to you.
“What was that for?” He chuckles when you pull away, a faint blush on his cheeks. 
“What? I can’t kiss my boyfriend now?” He rolls his eyes but leans to leave a chaste kiss on your lips. “Can you drop me off at the grocery store? I need to buy a few things for dinner.”
You fall into an easy conversation as he drives through the streets of Monaco. He tells you about everything that's wrong with the car and what they’re doing to fix those issues and, in return, you tell him what you’ve been doing in his absence, and how much the cats miss him. 
Soon enough, you reached your destination. 
“Okay, I won’t be long. You can go home and—what are you doing?”
“I’ll come with you.”
“No, you’re going home to rest.” But he doesn’t listen. Max just gets out of the car, opens the door and helps you out. “Max.”
He groans, “I just,” He drops his head slightly forward. “I missed you so much, I don’t want to leave you.”
Your heart melts and you can’t say no to him, not when he’s looking like a lost puppy in front of you, so you simply take his hand, dragging him inside.
Of course you don’t miss the way his whole face lights up. 
You end up arguing in the milk aisle because Max doesn’t leave your side, not when you try to move away to grab something you need and definitely not when you bump into one of your friends who you haven’t seen in a while, so you’re unable to hug her. 
The argument ends with you pinned against the store shelves with Max whispering filthy things in your ear. You only pull away when the store manager clears his throat saying that “if you don’t stop right now, you’re gonna be banned for life.”
You think that once at home Max will want to take a rest, forgetting about you, but, to your surprise, he just takes a quick shower before joining you in the kitchen. 
You cook dinner together, with a few kisses and ear scratches to the cats. And then you eat together, talking about everything and nothing at all, enjoying each other’s company. 
Of course Max doesn’t let you shower alone, he joins you there too.
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amsznn · 2 days
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Hey can you do one where the reader has a crush on Matt.She is very much giving heart eyes and tries to do anything to make him happy.Matt being oblivious complains to his brother about it.Nick and Chris smack some sense into him saying how lucky he is to have someone like us care about him.Matt disagrees and the reader hears this causing her to stop not wanting to make him uncomfortable.Matt misses the way things use to be and gets jealous when learning the reader is going out on a date.At the end they have an argument and he tells her how he really feels.Lots of angst in the beginning fluff towards the end please!!
OVERBEARING - m. sturniolo
warnings: slight cursing, angst at start, fluff at the end
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you couldn’t deny it anymore. and you dont think it went unnoticed either.
the lingering gazes, to the more than normal laughter at his jokes, or the constant acts of service. how you were willing to do anything for him. just him.
matthew sturniolo.
you thought your constant need to be near him was just you wanting to be better friends. that was until your feelings started growing stronger.
“y/n, helloo.”
you brought your attention to the voice you found yourself loving so much.
“sorry, what?”
“i asked if you could pass the remote.” matt repeated while settling down beside you on the couch. you nodded and reached over to grab the remote to hand it to him. it was around 1 AM, and it was just the two of you. nick and chris had went to their rooms while you and matt decided to watch a movie.
“want me to get you a blanket?” you whispered as matt stared at the screen to the opening of the movie.
“no, im good.” matt says. you nodded and turned your head towards the movie. about five minutes or so passed when you asked another question.
“hungry?”
“nope.” matt responds, adding a ‘pop’ to the p to exaggerate his response. you mumbled an ‘okay’. a few beats of silence passed before once again, you asked.
“are you sure-”
“y/n, please m’ just trying to watch the movie in peace.” matt sighed. he was getting frustrated by the second. after a long day of filming with his relatively loud brothers, the only sounds he wanted to hear were the actors on the tv.
but this was only one example of your persistence. you were always clung to matt’s side. following him like a lost puppy at all times.
always there to cook him up a meal after his long day, willing to do any of his chores that he just didn’t feel like doing, even soothing him to sleep on those tough nights where everything went blank.
nick would sometimes make fun of matt. it almost seemed like you were his mother with the way you acted. but thats not what you were trying to come off as. you simply just had a lot of love for the boy that you weren’t really ready to confess yet.
but for matt? he didn’t see your clinginess as a good thing, in fact he began to hate it once nick pointed it out.
on one particular day matt decided to bring it up to his brothers while they were in nick’s room.
“i just don’t get it, like she’s just always there.” matt says while pacing around the room.
“is that a bad thing?” nick asks while organizing the clothes in his closet.
“i mean it wouldn’t be if she didn’t act like im some sort of child.” matt sighed while plopping down at the edge of the bed.
“i dunno, i’d love to have someone like y/n. she literally does everything for you bro.” chris laughs while slightly nudging matt.
“yeah..” nick yells from his closet. “don’t know why you’re bitchin’ bout it she’s literally helps you with like…” nick took a pause to think. “everything!”
matt scoffs before shaking his head. “yeah well it’s nice before it gets fucking unbearable.”
unbeknownst to matt, you could hear this whole conversation. you had came to drop off some food for the triplets, and since you had an extra key you went straight in. now you would’ve made yourself known until you realized you were the topic of their conversation.
to say you were hurt from matts words was an understatement. you quickly rushed out of the house, tears streaming down your face recounting every scenario where you were overbearing.
-
hours turned into days and days turned into weeks. matt hadn’t heard from you in a while. he expected to wake up to your daily morning texts, but nothing. after he shrugged that off he expected you to come over like you usually did. but once again, you didn’t.
he found himself longing for your presence more than he ever did.
you both went no contact until you came over, seeking nicks assistance since you had a date that night in hopes that your little crush on matt would subside.
you had went the whole time without speaking to the brunette. opting for a simple ‘hey’. matt was confused. why were you suddenly so distant? sure he wanted space at times but this is not what he had in mind.
matt finally snapped when you attempted rushing out their house, bidding matt goodbye with a meek ‘see ya’.
matt rose from his spot on the catch before making his way towards you. “are you gonna tell me what’s going on, or are you gonna keep avoiding me?” matt said while crossing his arms on his chest.
you could only roll your eyes before slipping your shoes on. “i dont know what you’re talking about, but i have to go.” you spat harshly before spinning on your heel.
“woah, what’s up with you?” matt yelled, shocked at your sudden anger towards him. he pulled you back by your wrist so you could face him.
“y’know if you found me ‘overbearing’ you could’ve just told me.”
thats when everything came back to matt. instant regret washed over him as he gazed upon your solemn expression. the same eyes that used to hold so much adoration for him now hollow.
“i’m so sorry y/n. i know theres no excuse to what i said but i was just being stupid.” matt sighed while running a hand down his face. “you’re far from overbearing, in fact i...i really miss you.”
“really?” you mumbled while your facial expression softened. matt nodded before embracing you in a tight hug to which you reciprocated by wrapping your arms around his waist. your date long forgotten.
“you’re amazing the way you are, and im sorry if i made it seem any other way.”
you smiled at matts words before leaning up to look at him. “just tell me next time, okay?” matt smiled and lightly pecked the side of your temple. happy to have finally gotten you back.
the version of you he loved.
and the version of you he would always cherish.
-
A/N: sorry this should’ve came out yesterday but i had to study for an exam. i have also been experiencing writers block but i have a new matt series in mind so stay on the look out for that!
tags:
@junnniiieee07 @tillies33ssss @whore4matt @stellarsturns @summerl986 @inveigledvex @beccaluvschris @stingerayyy2 @bunnysturns @braindead4l @vickyzloserz @sturnzsblog
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vroomvro0mferrari · 18 hours
Text
CL16 | Oblivious
Sorry it took me so long, I was really busy with finals the last couple of weeks but I've finally finished the fic from the poll! I hope you like it :)
Summary: Charles has been blatantly flirting with Y/N for months, but she's the only one who hasn't noticed.
Charles Leclerc x Sainz!Reader
WC: 2.4K
Warnings: None
Masterlist
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Charles was busy in the garage, talking with his mechanics when he saw her walk in. Y/N Sainz, the younger sister of his friend and teammate. He had seen her many, many times when she came to support her brother at his races. It seemed like Charles could sense her presence, knowing she was there without having seen or heard her, always looking up right when she walked in. Y/N Sainz was greatly loved by the Ferrari employees. With her bubbly personality, witty jokes, and bright smiles, all the team members enjoyed her presence. And Charles couldn’t help but feel the same way, although Y/N was completely oblivious to his affection. 
His face lit up when their eyes met, instantly smiling at her company. As soon as she was close enough, he greeted her, “Ah Y/N! Nice to see you again, you look lovely today!” He grinned.
“Oh, thank you, Charles. You’re so kind!” She responded with a bright smile as she hugged him in greeting, the flirty undertone going by entirely unnoticed.
Charles had been enamoured with Y/N since the first time they met. In an effort to not come off too strong and scare her away, Charles tried to flirt with her subtly. However, after several occurrences without any reaction from Y/N, it seemed his flirting was too subtle. Either that or she was not into him. But he couldn’t give into that possibility just yet.
As time passed and Y/N became a more familiar face in the paddock, Charles’s flirtations became bolder. He’d constantly try to include her in conversations and would make up all kinds of excuses just to talk to her. Whenever he did manage to string her into another conversation, he’d try to make her laugh as much as he could. Simply because he could, and because he loved to see her happy and smiling. And if he was feeling really confident, he would even go as far as to touch her arm or the small of her back while they were chatting away or walking around the paddock together. Nevertheless, to Charles's frustration, Y/N didn’t seem to notice his underlying motives, dismissing his actions and words as nothing more than friendly gestures.
Meanwhile, everyone else who had ever been around the duo seemed to have caught sight of the one-sided infatuation and attempt at courtship. Everybody except for Y/N had noticed Charles was desperately trying to make his feelings for the girl obvious, but she simply kept friend-zoning him. Frankly, he found it embarrassing. 
Nearly all of Charles’s fellow drivers had been caught up in one of his attempts to woo Y/N while she simply brushed his compliments off as friendly comments. It was hard not to notice Charles’s fruitless flirting when he did it right in front of them, but they didn’t say anything about it. His colleagues merely exchanged knowing glances with others aware of the situation, amused at Charles’s futile attempts at winning Y/N over. But as time wore on, and Charles kept trying, at least a few of his colleagues started to comment on his persistence, calling him a simp, and joking about his poor flirting. Some suggested he should stop his pursuit of Y/N, as it seemed she wasn’t interested, but Charles was relentless: he would not quit until he knew for sure Y/N Sainz didn’t and would never like him.
And so, when Charles spotted Y/N walking through the paddock with Lando, one of the people in the paddock she got along with better, talking animatedly and laughing loudly with each other, he approached her once more; he would seize any opportunity to blatantly flirt with Y/N. He quickly caught up with the two, putting his hand on the small of her back as he matched his speed with theirs. “You’re absolutely radiant today, chérie” He greeted her with a cheeky grin.  
Y/N looked to her side, greeting the new presence “Hey, Charles!” As oblivious as always, she sweetly smiled up at him and replied, “Thanks! You’re such a sweet friend!”
Lando was a mere bystander in the situation as he observed the interaction, surprised and amused at the ease with which Y/N once again waved off the man who was so clearly crushing on her. He held his opinions back until Charles left, “Wow, you certainly have no trouble friend-zoning him, don’t you?” He commented.
Y/N cocked her head as she looked at him, her brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
Lando laughed humourlessly, “Dear God, you really have no idea?” He paused, “Y/N, Charles has been flirting non-stop with you for ages. How on earth have you not noticed?”
She stopped walking and looked at him in confusion, “He’s not flirting with me, Lando, he’s just being nice. He’s a good friend.” 
“I’m actually quite sure he’s flirting with you, Y/N. So is everyone else. You could literally ask any of the drivers, and they would confirm it. The Ferrari employees too, I reckon. He likes you, Y/N.” He said unimpressed.
“Charles likes me?” She asked softly, suddenly turning shy, a blush creeping onto her face.
Lando sighed, realising his friend was even more oblivious than he initially thought. “Yeah, he does. I’m honestly surprised you’ve never noticed.” He gently squeezed her shoulder before they parted ways.
— — —
For the rest of the day, Y/N thought about Lando’s words. She thought about all her interactions with Charles over the last few months and realised that he did compliment her quite often. 
Once, on a sunny afternoon, Y/N was chatting with some of the Ferrari team members near the garage when Charles spotted her. He, as always, decided to walk over to talk with her, his usual charming smile on his face and mischief in his eyes.
"Y/N, only you can make a sunny day even brighter," he said with a big, playful smile and admiration in his voice.
Y/N blinked at him, surprised by his sudden appearance and his bold statement. "Oh, thank you, Charles! That's really sweet of you to say."
Unfazed by her obliviousness, Charles pressed on, determined to make his feelings known after such a long time. "No, really," he insisted, his gaze unwavering. "I mean it. You bring a brightness to the paddock that I can't quite explain."
Y/N laughed softly, “Well, um, thank you. That’s very kind. What can I say? I try my best.” She replied with a smile.
Another time, Y/N was in the team hospitality when she accidentally spilt her drink, leaving an obvious stain on her white shirt. Charles, who was, unsurprisingly, standing nearby (as always), had noticed immediately and courteously offered one of his extra Ferrari shirts. When he saw the girl he had liked for months in his clothes, wearing his driver’s number, he naturally couldn’t resist the urge to flirt with Y/N.
"Have I ever told you how stunning you look in red?" he remarked, his eyes sparkling with mischief and fondness at the sight of her.
Y/N laughed and replied, "No, I don't think you have," smiling at him in a friendly manner.
"Well, consider it said," he said, his tone playful. "You wear it better than anyone else, that's for sure."
Y/N laughed softly, appreciating her friend’s words, "I doubt that’s true, but thanks, Charles."
Thinking back to these moments, Y/N realised maybe Charles had indeed been flirting with her. However, he might just be like that with all of his friends, complimenting everyone he cares about. Nevertheless, now that Lando had brought this to her attention, she would surely pay extra attention to what Charles would say to her tomorrow.
— — —
The next day, Charles had caught her in a conversation again. They were talking about the race and the current situation with Ferrari. He mentioned the pressure from the team and all the fans that want him to do well, and that the car and the strategies aren’t working the way he wants them to. Of course, Y/N tried to reassure him; to relieve the pressure and stress Charles was feeling. He absolutely adored the way she was trying to comfort him and was not afraid to let her know, “I have to admit, Y/N, nobody can cheer me up like you can. You calm my nerves like no one else,” he said, looking at her lovingly while he expressed his feelings.
Y/N didn’t know how to respond. This was the first time she noticed he was flirting with her whilst he was actually doing it, and she had no idea how to react. When she felt her face heat up, she could only assume she was blushing from the nerves. She diverted her gaze, trying to come up with a good reply to Charles’s advances. How did she usually respond when Charles complimented her? She couldn’t remember now.
Charles was confused at Y/N’s lack of response to his remark. Normally, she’d immediately smile at him and thank him for whatever compliment he’d come up with, but now, she was looking away, and - was he seeing that right? Was she blushing? He had flirted with her countless times, but she had never blushed at any of his comments. Had she finally noticed his advances? Charles watched her with an amused smile while she searched for the right words.
Eventually, she shyly smiled at him, meeting his eyes in a fleeting glance before responding, “I’m glad to be of help.”
Charles, Charles, proud that he was the one to cause her flustered appearance, decided to push a little further, curious to see what would happen, “You really have no idea how much you mean to me, Y/N. Your support helps me so much.” Charles smiled gently and put his hand on her arm. When there’s no immediate response, he continues, “Anyway, I have to get ready for the race. I’ll see you later, yeah?” Y/N merely nodded and watched him walk away.
Her brother had been watching the interaction from a distance, observing the way his sister responded to Charles’s obvious flirting and, too, noticing the difference. “You finally figured it out, huh?” He said with a teasing smile. Y/N rolled her eyes at him in annoyance, but Carlos just continued, “You should let him know you like him too.” Y/N didn’t respond. “You do like him don’t you?” He asks, confused at her unresponsiveness. “Leave me alone, Carlos!” She replied, pushing her brother away. He laughed at her; that reaction was enough for him to know the answer to his question. He ruffled her hair and walked away, also needing to get ready for the race.
After her short talk with Charles, Y/N was sure that he liked her, but how to proceed? She could barely focus on the cars going around the track while all types of ideas were racing around in her head. What on earth was she supposed to do now? Should she wait until the next time Charles would flirt with her, or should she make the move instead? Considering Carlos’s advice, she decided she should take matters into her own hands.
She walked up to Charles as soon as she saw him entering the garage after the race. She had always thought Charles was incredibly attractive – like most women, but he looked especially handsome after he had raced.
“Hey, good job on the race!” She greeted Charles, pulling him into a hug. She looked at him for a second or two, contemplating whether she should actually do this. She smiled up at him shyly, “You know, I love the way your hair looks after a race.” She said blushing, running one of her hands through his messy hair. Charles is surprised at her comment, but he’s shocked at her hand in his hair. This is the first time she has complimented him – or at least, initiated it. Let alone, her touching him in such an intimate way. His eyes were wide and his mouth was slightly agape as he stared at her in disbelief. It was now Charles’s turn to be flustered as Y/N finally reciprocated his attempts at flirting.
In his silence, Y/N decided to continue, “It’s hot.” She said, avoiding eye contact. Charles was unsure how to respond. He had never experienced a situation like this before; he always knew exactly what to say, but she had caught him off guard. After Y/N had friend-zoned him countless times, he was definitely not expecting this; he was not sure what to do.
The absence of a reply only made Y/N more nervous. She distanced herself from him, letting her hand fall from his hair, realising she probably shouldn’t have touched him without permission. Charles was quick to notice her retreat and held her face to stop her from leaving. He raised her chin to make their eyes meet and asked her softly, “Let me take you to dinner?” while he stared at her with adoration.
Y/N smiled at him fondly and nodded her head, “I’d like that, Charles. I’d really like that.” 
“Good,” He said firmly, his smile growing wider, matching hers. “I have to leave now for the debrief, but I’ll text you, okay?” 
Y/N nodded her head in response, letting out a hum. Charles pulled her face closer with the hand on her cheek, and fleetingly kissed her forehead before leaving, looking over his shoulder to catch her gaze one last time.
Y/N stood still in shock for a while, processing what just happened. She had agreed to go on a date with Charles. She was staring outside, letting the situation sink in as she watched people pass by in the busy paddock. Suddenly, she spotted Lando waving wildly at her, trying to get her attention. When he realised that she had seen him, he smiled mischievously and gave her a thumbs-up, assuming the kiss he saw Charles give her was a good sign. Y/N rolled her eyes at him, annoyed by his nosiness, but Lando just laughed, amused at her bother and glad his meddling had helped.
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Text
✯my entry for the @croptopjames fest✯
jegulus | 1.3k | non-canon/magical au
summary:
It was revenge, they say, for a prank they played on the other houses. So if Lupin and Pettigrew got their trousers turn into shorts, and Black got his shirt turn into a crop top, then that means Potter—
“Did you hear what happened?”
“They say it was revenge for a prank on the other houses,”
“Seems like a weird way to take revenge,”
“Someone said it was a new statement for the dress code,”
“Of course those Gryffindors would come up with something like that,”
“Mila from my transfiguration class says someone charmed their clothes to transform into something else whenever they wear it. You know, trousers turn into shorts and—”
“Oh, so that’s why Lupin and Pettigrew were wearing shorts! But why was Black’s shirt cropped? Not that I mind the view but—”
“Maybe the spell worked in pairs? If Lupin and Pettigrew got shorts, and Black’s shirt was cropped, then maybe Potter got—”
But Regulus had heard enough.
He should’ve known something was off the moment he crossed Lupin and Pettigrew earlier that day wearing shorts of all things, but if he was completely honest with himself, his mind was somewhere else and didn’t even think twice about it. But now, after eavesdropping on a conversation of some sixth years, maybe he shouldn’t have been so dismissive.
Entering the Great Hall for lunch, Regulus makes a b-line for his seat at the end of the Slytherin table and starts filling his plate absentmindedly, trying to ignore the sight of his brother at the Gryffindor table, talking animatedly to Lupin and Pettigrew, still in those ridiculous clothes. His mind inevitably going to the person who’s conveniently, not among them.
The thing is, Regulus isn’t capable of thinking of a piece of clothing that would look bad on James Potter.
He has seen the guy practising on the Quidditch pitch for Salazar’s sake. He has had a front row of what James’ body looks like when he leans on his broom, quaffle in hand, gaining some speed over his fellow teammates. He has seen how his forearms look when he grips the handle hard and how his thighs squeeze the rear of the broom when he’s doing a particularly hard move so he doesn’t fall.
So no, he doesn't think there’s a piece of clothing that would look bad on him, he could pull any look, especially a crop top, and that is the problem, isn’t it?
Regulus could feel his cheeks warming at the thought. Oh no this is bad, what he’s going to do if he sees him wearing that? He’s going to make a fool of himself and he can’t afford that. No, Regulus needs to get the fuck out of there if he wants to make it with his dignity intact.
Practically stuffing his face, Regulus tries to be as quick as possible, cursing in his mind at the idiot who hexed James Potter to be stuck with that particular piece of clothing, or lack thereof, more like.
“Let it not be said that we don’t do anything nice for you, Regulus,” a voice comes from behind and Regulus freezes and then groans.
Looking up from his plate, he eyes the pair who has taken the seats in front of him, both looking smug as fuck, “You guys are unbelievable,”
Evan hums in agreement, “Aren’t we just?”
“Wasn’t a compliment,”
Barty tuts disapprovingly, stealing a piece of food from Regulus' plate and popping it in his mouth, “Why Regulus, we thought you would be thrilled by this, can’t believe you’re this ungrateful.”
“Crop tops, really?” He huffs, stabbing whatever is left of his chicken, “And don’t get me started on the shorts.”
“Those were my idea,” Evan mentions.
Regulus doesn’t get it, “Why though?”
“We couldn’t be so obvious and only hex Potter, we had to cover our traces,” Barty says, turning his head slightly to look at the Gryffindor table. “Besides, the others look ridiculous, minus your brother of course, the bastard is fit as fuck.”
“Why though?” Regulus repeats, this time even more aggravated at the notion of Barty ogling his brother.
Evan gives him a pointed look, “You know why,”
Regulus drop his gaze, sniffing lightly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,”
Barty smirks at him, “You will,”
There’s a sudden ruckus at the entrance. The voices grow loud and you could hear some whistles here and there but what actually catches Regulus’ eyes when he looks up, is the man at the doors.
Something inside him is pleased to notice he was right about James looking good in any piece of clothing, especially something that would show his really fit body. James is looking a little dishevelled, but that only makes him look even prettier. Still enthralled by the sight of James Potter wearing something this sinful, Regulus notices a little too late a voice shouting really close to him, efficiently taking him out of his rivery.
“Looking good, Potter!”
“Barty!” Regulus hisses in embarrassment as James looks in his direction. And oh, the way he smiles at Regulus as soon as their eyes connect.
Regulus is incapable of doing much else under the intensity of that look, he wants to run like he had planned before. He wants to hide, not only from James but from the way he feels when he’s near. Pathetic as it is, the only thing Regulus is capable of doing is following James as he makes his way to the Slytherin table.
Regulus blinks hard at that. Wait, Slytherin table?
Before Regulus can process that, James is already standing right in front of him.
“Rosier, Crouch,” he greets them, still not taking his eyes off Regulus.
“Potter,” Barty nods in his direction. “Nice shirt, does it come in men’s?”
James grin turns sharp, “You don’t want me to answer that, Crouch,”
“Okay, time to go, have a great one!” Evan practically drags Barty aways as the latter cackles like a madman all the way out of the Great Hall.
When his laugh fades, James is still in front of Regulus and Regulus is purposefully looking at anything but his face, so his gaze inevitably fall at the only thing at his eye-level, James’ stomach.
There are beads of sweet running down over that beautiful golden skin and all Regulus wants, is to touch it to see if it’s as soft as it looks. Wondering how it would feel under his teeth.
James clears his throat to catch Regulus' attention. Unnecessary, since he hasn’t lost it the moment he entered the Great Hall.
“So, Regulus,” he starts.
“Yes?” He can see the trail of hair disappearing under the navy trousers. He’s having a hard time not to reach out and touch it.
He’s being so brave about this whole thing, someone should notified his mind-healer.
A beat of silence and then a hand, reaching for his chin and turning his face up, callous fingers against his soft skin. The sight of James’ playful smile makes something inside him melt.
“My eyes are up here, love.”
His cheeks get warmer out of the embarrassment of being caught. Not that he was subtle in the least but still, embarrassing.
James doesn’t seem to mind in the least.
“You’re blushing,” he notices.
Regulus' face is practically red at this point.
“Shut up,” he grumbles and James chuckles.
“No, no, I like it,” he says, voice soft. “Red looks good on you,” and then he proceed to fucking caressing his cheek.
It’s settled then, Regulus is living inside a romantic novel where making a fool out of yourself in front of someone you fancy is necessary and crop tops are a thing.
“What do you want?”
“Just wanting to say hello,” James says, eyes softening. “Hello,”
“Hi,” Regulus says, like an idiot.
“Fancy a Quidditch game with me?”
Regulus frowns. “Right now?”
“Why not?”
“You’re not wearing the proper gear,”
James smirks, “I think I will manage,”
This is a bad idea, a terrible one and Regulus knows it, everyone knows it and yet— “Lead the way then,”
James lets his hand drop from his face, and it takes all of Regulus not to chase the touch, but the feeling of loss is quickly replaced with excitement when he sees James holding his hand up for Regulus to take.
Regulus does, of course he does.
Hand in hand, they make it to the Quidditch pitch.
Together.
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maplesyrupsainz · 1 day
Note
prompt 6 with sebastian pleaseee
pairing: sebastian vettel x fem reader y/n (she/her)
genre: blurb, established relationship
warnings: swearing, protective bf, nothing crazy
prompt: six [driver] is overly protective of you after someone flirts with you
a/n: omg never written for sebastian before so kind of nervous idrk what im doing LOL hope it isn't awful!!!
my masterlist | 1k celebration
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you're studying the cereal boxes intently when a man's voice you don't recognise makes you jump slightly. “something interesting happening there that only you know about?”
when you turn around he's gesturing towards the cereal boxes you were reading. you smile lightly, not wanting to be rude but also not wanting to engage in conversation with the stranger. “nothing interesting. that's the problem, i think.” you shrug softly, your eyes wandering the aisle, your boyfriend nowhere to be seen.
“maybe i can help you,” the man steps closer to you, clearly feigning interest in cereal as an excuse to talk to you. you look up at the ceiling, saying a silent prayer that this man fucks off before your boyfriend returns. “you know what, i have the best cereal back at my place. what you up to later?”
and there it is. the worst pick up line you've ever been forced to hear. you open your mouth, the beginning of the soft rejection you're so used to using to let men down: ‘i'm flattered but i actually have a boyfriend, he should be around here somewhere’...
however, it's your boyfriend who cuts you off. “she's with me, mate.” you cringe at the malice in his voice and the sudden weight of his hand on the small of your back. the man, tail between his legs, apologises profusely before retreating down the aisle. “who was that?”
“don't know. he just started talking to me about cereal,” you shrug again, nodding towards the boxes. sebastian's eyes on you feel like they're going to set a fire right where you stand. “come on,” you mumble, turning away from him and finishing your grocery shop.
the car ride home is silent, and you don't try to make conversation as you know sebastian just needs time to cool off. he is fiercely protective of you at times when it feels unnecessary, but what would you know about the fragile male ego?
upon arriving home and packing away your groceries, you join sebastian on the couch, flinging your legs over his. “hey,” he looks up at you, his clenched jaw relaxing slightly. you know this routine all too well. “you know what?”
“hm?” he raises his eyebrows at you, resting a hand on your thigh.
“i have the best cereal at my place. what you up to later?” you try to fight off the grin that's creeping onto your face as sebastian shakes his head.
“that might be the most pathetic one yet.” the smirk on his lips floods you with relief.
you sit up straight, giggling now. “he wildly overestimated my passion for cereal.”
he laughs, opening his arms for you and you oblige almost immediately, nestling into his chest. being loved by sebastian is the only way to be loved, you think.
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Could I request Astarion and his s/o getting into a sass competition where Astarion ends up confessing to her by accident and now he's all flustered?
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Astarion x Reader
“Can’t you go any faster?”
“I’m not exactly as well versed into taking these off as I am in putting them on, darling.” Astarion quipped at you as he fiddled with the lock on your cuffs.
Being somewhat of an anti-hero liaisons these days, the group had been pinched on some trumped up but completely true & legal charges of petty theft and larceny. Your options were fight, flight, or get arrested when confronted by the guards and charges. And since you couldn’t fight a whole city’s worth of Iron Fists, and running also seemed unplausible as you’d have to come back to the city sometime, you decided to take you lumps and went to jail. Luckily, where there’s a will there’s a way. Or in this case: a vampire with a lockpick up his sleeve.
“Why did you wait to do me last anyway? Just to see me suffer?”
“Well,” Astarion cooed, “it does have a certain visual appeal.”
You clicked your teeth and rolled your eyes. “Could you just hurry up? I’m starting to lose the feeling in my hands. All the blood is rushing out of them.”
“Oh, well, we wouldn’t want that.”
“Well, if you want my blood again, you should be more sympathetic to my pain.” You told him. Sighing heavily as one arm was free and Astarion moved on to the other one.
“Don’t you threaten me. Besides, if you won’t give me what I want, I’ll just move on to some other lucky companion in our camp.”
“Ha! Like anyone else would have you.”
Astarion frowned. “I’ll have you know that there are plenty of people who would welcome my teeth at their necks. Hundreds. Thousands!”
“Yeah. One blood obsessed drow and…who was the other one you tricked again?” You pulled at the shackles, which jiggled the irons and knocked the lockpick free, but unbroken. The vampire growled at you.
“I tricked you easy enough, didn’t I?”
“Only because I took pity on you.”
“Pity?!”
“Yeah.” You told him. “That poor, sad, puppy dog ‘please feed me’ look was just something I couldn’t say no to.”
Astarion growled again. “That is not how it happened. Besides, if you didn’t like it you wouldn’t keep asking for more.”
“Oh sure. Blame the victim.”
“You are not a victim!” He snapped at you. He seemed a little wounded by that one. Maybe you went a little too far. “Gods.” He cursed under his breath with a frown. “You are lucky I love you so much, otherwise I would just leave you here, chained up, and never bite you again. No matter how much you begged me.”
The lock finally snapped open and your arm fell to the side. You lifted it to rub your wrist but were uncharacteristically silent.
“Would it have been too much to expect a thank you??”
“Did you just say you love me?”
Astarion froze for a moment. A little wide eyed at your question. He seemed to be racking his brain for a moment. Trying to remember the conversation before an ‘Oh. Shit.’ expression came over his face. “What? Oh, that. Figure of speech darling, of course.” He let out a single nervous cough after that and a rushed, “let’s go meet up with the other.” Before he turned on his heels and made a speedy exit.
You rub your wrist one more time as a soft, shy smile came to your lips behind his back. You follow after him and meet up with the others. Waiting just outside the prison for the two of you, as apparently just around the corner was enough of an escape from the mighty Iron Fist.
“Ah! I just love this fresh air.” You exclaim, followed by more comments on how dusty & dank your cell had been, but really just watching Astarion’s shoulders tense.
You spent the rest of the day subversively tormenting Astarion. Making comments on how much you loved the weather, or loved a dress in a window. How much you loved dinner that night. How much you loved getting a good night’s rest that night.
By the time everyone had gone off to their respective tents for the evening, Astarion had apparently had enough and slunk up to yours. “I know what you’re doing. Now stop it!” He hissed.
“But I thought you’d love it.”
“Stop it!” He hissed again. If he could right now, he would blush. You were tempted to let him feed on you for a moment to get the full effect. “I mean it! How would you like it if I threw every verbal misstep in your face? I don’t keep bringing up the time you said Ibis instead of Ignis, now do I??”
It was pretty funny when that bird showed up.
“So, are you upset that you said it and I’m teasing of you, or are you upset that you didn’t mean it and I keep bringing it up?” You honestly didn’t know which answer would be worse at this point. You felt bad you had wounded his pride to the point that he came to talk to you. But you also don’t think you could take it if he told you that he didn’t love you.
Astarion just stood there for a moment, thinking, before he sighed and waved you off. “Just…knock it off ok. I’ve had quite enough today. I’m going to get some sleep and I’ll see you in the morning.”
He turned to walk away and just before he fell out of ear shot you called to him. “Hey Astarion,” he looked back over his shoulder at you, “I love that you could come and talk to me about this.”
He huffed, but you could see the corners of his mouth struggling to keep down. “Oh shut up.”
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nyrasproblm · 18 hours
Text
For you to stay with me
dark!Paul Atreides x reader (fremen)
note: Chani is not Paul's lover in this story, but the reader! I created this story based on Crimson Peak's dialogue from the list of phrases I took from this post.
Word Count: 0,5K
Warning: angst, poisoning, possessive behavior, attempted manipulation
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You walked aimlessly through the corridors of the Palace, your vision blurred by tears, your steps not so steady. You walked as fast as possible, trying to get as far away from him as possible. You wanted to summon a shai-hulud and head out into the desert, but you couldn't do that in your current state of health.
You tried to breathe properly, but instead you just sobbed, reality crashing down on you more severely with each passing minute. Some servants passed by you with worried or scared expressions, but they didn't say anything and just walked on.
You tried to walk faster but you felt dizzy, so you let out a groan of frustration and placed your hands on your knees, taking a deep breath. The moment was interrupted when two thin, slightly calloused hands held you and guided you to lean against a wall.
Paul.
He made you lean your back against the wall as you tried to free yourself. He held your hands tightly inside his, towards your chin. You were in such bad health that you hadn't even heard him approaching.
"Calm down, calm down, please." he spoke in a soft voice, which you now knew was just a facade.
You moaned weakly at the pain of the grip on your wrists and continued trying to free yourself uselessly, tears now flowing freely down your face. You let out a painful sob and felt your knees weaken.
"Let's talk, calm down." Paul speaks again and you turn tearful eyes to him.
"Talk? How can you ask me that?" you twist your wrists in a frustrated attempt to free yourself. "Let go of me!"
Paul was poisoning you. He knew you wouldn't accept being his concubine after he married Princess Irulan, he knew you would leave and might never see you again. He asked you for some time to talk a few weeks ago and you accepted after much insistence from him, but the conversation ended up being postponed and you remained in the Arrakis palace for longer.
Every time you thought about leaving, Paul found a way to distract you and make you change your mind, and when he started failing to convince you to stay, you started to feel really bad about your health. You felt dizzy, weak bones, some pain, so it was difficult to get to the desert to summon a sandworm.
You would suspect that it was due to the food or the environment, after all you have been used to being exposed to the spice throughout your life and being in an environment with almost no spice could have induced this effect. Well, that could be it, but wasn't.
You knew you shouldn't listen, but you arrived early at Paul's boardroom and overheard him talking to his mother, openly admitting that he had been poisoning you by putting the substance in your food and drink for weeks. He looked scared while he was telling you this, you tried to get out of there but you made noise and he heard you.
"Be reasonable." he begged while still holding your wrists tightly.
"You lied to me." you sniffed
"I did."
"You poisoned me!"
"I did."
"You told me you loved me!"
"I do." you looked into Paul’s pleading eyes. "I do." he repeated.
You tried to pull away, your wrists already sore from his grip, but you felt another dizziness and your consciousness slowly left you.
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li0nn3stuff · 2 days
Text
You see Aemond's eye
English is not my first language, be kind.
Modern!Aemond x fem!Reader 
Warnings: pure smut with a bit of fluff in the end
Aemond groans, as he squeezes her hips with his hands, as she keeps on jumping up and down his cock. He clenches his jaw, throwing back his head at the beautiful feeling of being inside of her once again. Her breasts were jumping up and down in front of his face, still covered by her bra, her hands beside his head, her head thrown back. He looks at her face, contorted in pleasure and a bit of tiredness as she keeps riding him, moaning every time his cock slips back in, rubbing just the right spot inside her.
He moves one of his hands to tug down harshly the cup of her bra, letting one of her breasts out, so he could lean towards it to suck her nipple in his mouth. She moans even loudly and she sits on his cock, swaying her hips back and forth, as she puts one of her hands behind his head, keeping him close to her breast. He grunts and grabs her ass tightly enough to be leaving bruises later, and he starts moving her so she resumes her previous movements, forcing her to take his cock in and out, as he watches how she wonderfully does so, with his mouth half open.
“Yes… Fuck- That’is, baby- Just like that.” He moans as she nods and follows his pace. He let one of his hands away from her ass to bring it to her exposed breast, squeezing it, then twirling her nipple between his fingers.
“Oh- Fuck, A-Aem-Aemond!” She moans loudly and he smirks. He squeezes the skin of her ass even tighter as he stops her movements, fixing the cup of her bra as he puts his hands back on her hips, keeping her still. He plants his feet on the bed and start thrusting his hips up, fucking her from below, his eye glued to where their bodies combined so wonderfully. She moves her hands on his chest to keep her balance and she looks down at him.
“A-Aemond- S-so good..:” she mumbles as he just keeps speeding up, going inhumanly faster. The room was filled with dirty sounds, the sicky sounds of her juices that wetted his crotch, her moans, sobs and whimpers, and his grunts or heavy breathing.
She kept looking at his face, she loved to drink up every expression of his, all the time, in bed, out of bed. She couldn’t stop looking at him, finding every single detail of his face incredibly beautiful. Except for one thing. They’ve talked before, and almost every time, it ended up disappointing for her. His eyepatch. She had asked him on many occasions why he never took it off with her, why she couldn’t see how he was underneath it, and he simply answered that she wasn’t ready, that she would have been disgusted by what she would have seen. Hearing him saying such things about himself always broke her heart, so she would just drop the conversation with a sadden smile.
“I’ll fuck you untill morning, baby- Fuck, if it feels this good it’ll be worth feeling my cock fall off-” He grunts as he grabs the back of her neck and pulls her down on his chest. She hides her face in his neck, trying to cover her moans on his skin, but he slapped her ass, leaving a red print of his hand on it.
“Don’t. Let me hear you. Let everyone hear how good I make you feel.” he growls, as she presses her forehead on his neck as she tries to get a glimpse of the sight of his cock entering her repeatedly, but due to this position she couldn’t, so she just closes her eyes and moans again, clenching her hands on the duvets under them, squeezing them in her hands as she just kept taking whatever he gave her. He takes off his hand from the back of her neck and he slips it between them, searching for her breasts again, so she takes the occasion to sit back up as he keeps pistoning his hips up.
The stamina of this guy was something she just would never understand.
She puts her hands back on his chest, passing her fingers over his nipples, and she looks back at his face. His lips parted, his rapid breathing and his expression of struggle, pleasure and determination. He grunts and throws his head back as he closes his eye, the scar wrinkling the skin around it, the eyepatch moving slightly. He probably didn’t even notice, but she did. She puts her hand on his scarred cheek, caressing it, as he immediately opened his eye to watch her attently. Giving her a few harder thrusts to warn her, that made her sob harder, almost taking her breath away. She fixes his eyepatch over his eye and she leans down to kiss his chest, keeping her hand on his cheek, sitting back up after.
Aemond’s thrusts were getting harder and quicker, a sign that he was about to cum. She looks back at his face and he sees his pained expression as he tried to hold back, feeling her walls starting to squeeze him, knowing that he was just building her orgasm up. She bites her lip as he keeps looking at his face, and even if she knew that what she was about to do was really wrong, she couldn’t refrain herself, so she moved her hand and slipped his eyepatch off. She met blue.
He was… beautiful.
His lost eye has been replaced with a blue sapphire gem, his eyelid a bit wrinkly and red at the edges. But that eye, that gem… Aemond widened his eye, shocked by her action. How could he be insecure of such a sight? God, she was so lucky, she was in heaven, she felt the highest, knowing that she get to be fucked by him, touched, kissed, by him. She was flattered to even be close to him. She kept staring at him, and after finally having revealed to herself what he looked like, all she could do was just cum. She collapsed on top of him as her walls spasmed violently, never having cum this hard in her life, she just felt wonderfully, hugging his neck close to her as she let out the loudest moan.
Aemond clenches his eye close as he moans back just as loud, her walls sucking him so wonderfully that his legs just fail him when he finally lets himself cum. She puts her hands on the sides of his face as she presses her lips on his. He sighs and kisses her back, pushing her away almost immediately. She pulls away and looks at him with her lips pressed together.
“I-I’m so sorry…” She was panting, her whole body was shaking.
“Why did you even do it?” He growls as he puts his eyepatch back on, but she grabs his wrist to stop him.
“No! Please, I’m really sorry I did it like this, but please, Aemond, don’t wear the eyepatch again.” She begs him. He growls and he pulls his wrist away from her. “What makes you think you have the right to ask this, uh?!” He was angry, he felt betrayed, and he had all the right to be, she knew it.
“Aemond… I know I-I shouldn’t have, but… You’re beautiful.” She ends up whispering her last two words. He looks at her as if she was a madwoman.
“You should be disgusted.” He hisses at her and she furrows her brows.
“Disgusted? Aemond… who told you that? Your eye is nothing to be disgusted by.” She felt her heart break into pieces at his words. He just fixes his eyepatch on his eyes and looks away from her.
“No one.” He answers coldly. She presses her lips together, feeling her eyes filling with tears. She moves off of him and lays beside him. Aemond was stubborn, what he said, he had to do. She felt it was worth it to try again. 
“Aemond…” She puts her hand on his cheek, turning his face towards her. She met his glacial gaze, the one he usually reserved for strangers. It sent shivers down her spine, mixed with pure fear. Did she just ruin everything? Only the idea of losing him made her want to cry and beg him on her knees. She takes a deep breath to not burst into tears.”P-Please… You’re perfect… you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen…” 
His expression softens as he sees her tears, and he sighs in frustration, pulling her close, making her lean on his chest as he wraps his arm around her.
“Did you cum for my eye?” He asks so shamelessly that she blushed violently, even though it was nothing she could deny. She slowly nodded her head, looking down at her hand resting on his chest. He heard Aemond moving, then his hand came in her view field, holding his eyepatch. He was giving her his eyepatch. Her head snaps up, looking up at him. His cheeks red in embarrassment, as he was looking away from her. His eye uncovered. She smiles softly, wiping away her tears, as she leans on her elbow to look better at him she puts her hand on his cheek again, turning his head to her. He was so pretty, his cheeks flushed, his gaze drifted to the side, as he refused to meet your eyes.
“You’re beautiful.” She repeated, smiling at him. His cheeks only reddened more as he clenched his jaw.
“I don’t get you. How can you enjoy the sight of any of this?” He answers and I rest my chin on top of your chest, admiring your face.
“I just do. Simple as that.” 
He finally looks down at her and he caresses her cheek with her thumb.
“I don’t think I would have ever been able to take the eyepatch off in front of you. I guess it was a good thing that you did it for me.” He says as he looks at her, his mind strangely calm. She leans towards his hand as she closes her eyes, enjoying the feeling of his soft touches.
He grabs her by the back of her neck and she brings her up to his face so he can kiss her. She immediately wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he rolls to get on top of her. He looked at her, smirking. Her reaction to his eye gave him a huge boost of confidence.
“I won't cover my eye again when we are alone, I promise.”  She smiles back at him at his words. He smiles devilishly then he adds: 
“Especially if it makes you cum that hard.” 
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tsunami-of-tears · 2 days
Text
Subtle
Azriel x Reader x Nesta x Cassian
Summary: Reader and Nesta have a crush on each other but aren’t sure if they should make a move.
A/N: WHY DO I KEEP MAKING CASSIAN SUCH A SUB??  I’m getting so hyped for poly!+ ACOTAR week!! I have so many drafts on the go rn
Wordcount: 1.2K
Warnings: Mostly fluff; Slightly sexual themes; Mention of cuck!Cassian (he’s so hot for that); Poly! relationship
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚
Sharing their bed was nothing new to Cassian and Nesta, often inviting both males and females to join them. 
Cassian didn’t often get jealous, in fact - he quite enjoyed when Nesta would seek out other males. The only rule was that he wanted to watch.
Cassian was willing to give Nesta her privacy when it came to females. He understood that it was a different kind of intimacy. On occasion, Nesta would allow an audience. If Cassian was lucky, he’d be invited to join in. 
The couple were getting ready to head out to Rita’s with the rest of the Inner Circle. There was nothing out of the ordinary about tonight, except for Nesta’s growing feelings for their friend, Y/N. 
Nesta pauses in front of the mirror, trying to calm her racing mind. Her hair was styled in her signature coronet, and her sleek black dress perfectly hugged her figure.
Cassian walks up behind Nesta, admiring his mate as he slides his arms around her waist and kisses her tenderly on the cheek. 
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asks, concern lacing his voice. 
“I’m nervous about tonight. About seeing Y/N,” She admits. 
Cassian gives Nesta a small, reassuring smile, moving his hands to rest on her hips. “I wondered when this was going to come up. I noticed your affection towards her has grown. I just want you to be happy, my love.”
Nesta turns in Cassian’s arms to face him. “I know,” She says. “But I can’t tell if she feels the same. And I have no idea if Az will be okay with it.”
Cassian ponders her statement. “Do you want me to try broaching the topic with him?” He asks. 
“I know it’s not your strong suit, but please try and be subtle. I don’t want to ruin things between us.” 
“Sweetheart, subtle is my middle name,” Cassian grins widely. 
————
At Rita’s, Cassian, Azriel and Rhys are sat at their signature booth with glasses of whiskey in hand. The females are off dancing together; Mor with Feyre, and Nesta with Y/N.
Y/N throws her head back at something Nesta says, her melodic laughter barely heard over the music. The pair hold hands and spin around together, completely ignorant of the people around them.
Cassian watches his mate and her friend with a small smile. He would give anything to make Nesta happy. He takes a big sip of his drink before inclining his head towards Azriel. “Has Y/N ever expressed interest in females before?”
Rhys eyes his brothers, opting to stay quiet and see where this conversation is going. Azriel smirks and arches a brow. “Huh, why do you want to know that?” He asks.
Cassian shrugs, failing at his attempt to seem casual. “I was just wondering,” He says cooly. 
“That’s a funny thing to wonder about my mate,” Azriel goads, “I’d ask the same about yours, but we both know the answer to that question.”
Rhys coughs, raising his hand to his mouth to keep his drink from spraying across the table.
Cassian sighs, “You know you’re a prick, right?”
“You can tell Nesta to make her move,” Azriel says with a wink.
————
Y/N extends a hand, bowing to Nesta as a slow ballad starts to play throughout the hall. “Will you join me for this dance, milady?” She asks, each word laced with giggles now that the faewine has taken effect. 
Nesta takes her hand, bowing in return. “I would be delighted,” she replies. 
They both smile as they hold each other in a close embrace, swaying to the music. At this proximity, Y/N can’t avoid looking into Nesta’s eyes, and she risks a glance down to her lips. 
Only for a second, but long enough that Nesta caught it. 
Nesta’s lips curl upwards slightly and she tilts her head closer to Y/N’s.
“You don’t have to be shy with me,” Nesta murmurs as her gaze drops to Y/N’s mouth. Rather than quickly averting her eyes, Nesta lingers, taking in the soft curves - wondering how they’ll feel, what they’ll taste like. 
Y/N’s heart pounds and the music fades into a dull roar as she stands still in her embrace with Nesta. The moment she’d thought about since the two first met was finally reality. 
Their bodies fit together even better than Y/N had dreamed. They move in time, close enough to feel the others’ breath on their face. 
Just a little bit more, that’s all it would take to close that gap, and maybe ruin their friendship. 
Y/N doesn’t have to decide as Nesta chooses for her. She surges forward, pressing her soft lips to Y/N’s in a sweet kiss. 
It only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough to make Y/N’s blood heat.
They part, breathing unevenly, Y/N bites her lower lip as she looks up into Nesta’s steel-blue eyes. “Do it again,” Y/N pants. 
Nesta gently holds Y/N’s cheek as their lips meet again. It’s tender and unhurried, but it’s clear that Nesta is the one in control. Her tongue slips between Y/N’s lips, exploring and claiming her mouth. 
They part for air, resting forehead against forehead and continue to sway to the music. They both smile shyly, cheeks flushed pink, not noticing anyone but each other. 
They dance for a few more songs together before heading back to their booth for a drink. Azriel wraps his arm around Y/N as she slips into the seat beside him. 
Y/N blushes furiously as a rather pleased-looking Nesta takes the seat opposite her, next to Cassian. 
Cassian uses the bond to speak to Nesta, ‘That wasn’t exactly subtle.’
Nesta replies with the mental image of her making a vulgar gesture. 
————
After calling it a night, Y/N heads home with Azriel, walking hand in hand along the Sidra. 
They stop at the end of the Rainbow, admiring the display of colours. Azriel takes Y/N’s other hand and kisses her lovingly. “Did you have fun tonight, my love?” Azriel asks, his lips curled into a soft small. 
Y/N grips his hands tighter as she blushes again, and looks down at their feet. She had been harbouring feelings for Nesta from the moment they met. Azriel picked up on them fairly quickly through the bond. Though Y/N did her best to hide them, she couldn’t cover up just how alive the female made her feel. 
Azriel gently lifts her chin so their eyes meet. He tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear before running his thumb over her cheek. “No need to be shy, my love. You already had my blessing. I am happy for you.”
Y/N looks up at her mate with wide eyes, silver tears threatening to spill over the edge. “Are you sure?” She asks.
“Of course,” Azriel kisses her softly, “If Nesta brings you more happiness, how can I deny you that? And besides, this” —he points at her chest, over her heart— “has so much love in it. There’s not any less for me if you give some to Nesta as well.” 
Y/N wraps her arms tightly around Azriel, inhaling the scent of him, feeling the firmness of his body in her arms. “I love you so much.” She murmurs into the crook of his neck.
“I love you too, Y/N,” Azriel says, kissing the top of her head. 
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Text
Something in the Orange – LN4
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lando norris x fem!mclaren!driver!reader
When Oscar leaves McLaren for RedBull, you have no idea what you're getting into becoming McLaren's second driver...and what that means for you and your new teammate. A specific country song doesn’t help, but it makes all the difference.
content warnings: misogyny, mention of social media hate, and a lot of crying...I think that's it, I promise it has a happy ending. angst adjacent, but maybe that's underselling it.
word count: 2.7K
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You had thick skin. You had to in order to be a woman in motorsports, but some of the comments in articles and on social media about your promotion still hurt.
The path you took to Formula One was…not traditional. Sure, you’d grown up karting with the boys, but as you got older, you switched to racing in some of the IMSA classes—first MX-5 Cup then Carrera Cup. Starting out in the Miata—a car that was referred to in one of the many Top Gear episodes you watched as a kid as “a sports car for girls and blokes who like ABBA”—had given you a taste for the real wheel-to-wheel racing that you had yearned for in karting and you skyrocketed from there.
When Zak Brown contacted you, you figured it had to be for the McLaren IndyCar team. You almost dropped your phone when he said that he wanted you as McLaren’s F1 reserve driver for 2026.
The team had been unbelievably welcoming and you bonded with the girls on the team immediately—even making a group chat called “hot girl garage” that included some of the engineers and social media/marketing admin, and the past and current F1 academy drivers. Oscar and Lando were nice, but you didn’t talk with them much, and you still felt like a nobody in the garage most of the time, so you understood.
Your times on the test track said otherwise.
When Oscar signed with RedBull for 2027, you were as shocked as the rest of the team. The news that you would be taking his seat lost in the sea of anguish from everyone at McLaren. You were excited, but they were big shoes to fill, and your future teammate had taken the announcement pretty hard. He was chipper in interviews, but in all the meetings you had with the rest of the team—beginning to make preparations for your onboarding as a fully-fledged driver—his eyes were lackluster and your conversations were brief.
The reality that the two of you would be teammates and not just generally amicable coworkers was bearing down on you. Lando wasn’t bad to look at, but it felt like he hated you, and you knew something had to give before pre-season.
It was after one of the last meetings following Abu Dhabi, the team had done well that year and you were desperately trying to ignore the weight of those implications for next year, that you you grabbed Lando’s hand.
Taken aback by the sudden contact, he turned to face you—looking at you as though you were a stranger.
“Hey,” you start, trying to sound normal—like you aren’t about to shit bricks over your imminent rookie season, “I’m sorry I haven’t been more...proactive in getting to know you. I know I’m no Oscar, but it’ll be fun to learn from you...I’m looking forward to it.”
He still looks a bit stunned.
You realize you’re still holding his hand and you let go. His hands are a lot softer than yours, but maybe that’s just in your head.
“Yeah…no worries. You’re going to be great.” He says, a bit stilted. “Let me know if you need anything.” He turns from you, his brow still slightly furrowed, but his eyes linger on yours a second longer than it feels like they should have.
You hate that you flush easily, and you feel your cheeks quickly as you walk back to your ‘office’ hoping they’re not too hot and that no one has noticed it they are.
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P6. It’s not bad for your first race, amazing really.
You and Lando had finally broken whatever ice there was between you before the start of the season, probably thanks to the dumb games the media team made you play for the sake of bonding, but neither of you would admit that. You were funny and he appreciated how childish you could be at times; the two of you were well-aware of the perfect storm you could easily create with your antics.
The races seem to fly by.
P8.
P5.
P4.
P10.
P7.
P3.
P6.
P2.
It’s unheard of. People were comparing you to Lewis Hamilton, but despite the praise, you had to leave all your social media to the team as the hate comments became unbearable.
As much as you enjoy your second podium finish, the celebrations are cut short by some misogynist asshole who had somehow made his way into the media tent. You maintained your composure as the man yelled profanities that had to be bleeped in the tv coverage, with cameras cutting back to overhead angles of the track as the commentators apologized for the interruption in an effort to preserve the sanctity of the sport.
You finished your interviews quickly, making blunt comments about the need for better recognition of women in the sport:
“We’ve always been here,” you say, your face steeled to the camera, “and none of us are going to back down because you call us names. I deserve just as much respect as the other drivers.”
You thank the interviewer before heading to the team motor-home. You walk as though you’re on autopilot, a mildly content look plastered on your face as you ignore the photographers and people asking for further comments.
Lando finds you there a few minutes later with your head in your hands, ignoring the message from the team that you wanted space.
“Hey,” he says quietly, sitting down next to you and delicately placing a hand on your back before continuing, “y/n…I’m really sorry. I wish I could have done more.”
You haven’t moved. His breath catches in his throat when he realizes you’re not breathing.
“Y/n you have to breathe.” The concern evident in his voice.
It’s then that he realizes your arms are soaking wet—the tears streaming silently down your face and into the fire-resistant base layer.
Lando pulls you up to face him. Your eyes are red and you choke on air slightly as he runs his fingers across your tear-stained cheeks, trying desperately to heal the pain he knows he can’t.
“It’s ok, you don’t have to say anything—I won’t tell anyone.”
The two of you had never been very touchy, but you were more than thankful that he pulled you into him then. He texted the team that he was with you and that you were doing ok—comparatively that is—only leaving your side on occasion to get you more water. He stayed with you well into the night, listening to the sad country music that he knew you loved so much (now understanding partially why) and reminding you that he was there as you tried not to drown in the swirling pool of doubt, grief, anger, and frustration inside your head.
He watched the sun set outside. You had fallen asleep against him, exhausted from the exertion of the race and crying for hours. You were always so strong he thought to himself, turning to look down at you. The tension was finally gone from your face as you slept, and he wondered to himself when you’d learned to cry without making a sound.
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From that race onward, Lando was your rock on the team. Everyone was supportive of you obviously, you were their shining star, but Lando let you go almost nowhere without him. He stood awkwardly close to you for all of your interviews, and when he was politely told that he couldn't be in the shot—which happened frequently—he would back up only *just* far enough to be out of frame, but never more. You joked that he was your guard dog, but if you were honest he was more like a puppy.
He'd tackle you when you did a good job in training and would run through the crowd to pull you into a tight hug whenever you finished well in a race...which was...every race now that you thought about it.
The breathless smiles the two of you would exchange in each other's arms, steam sometimes rising off your skin slightly as you cooled off from being in the hot cars, were incentive enough alone for you to want to win…or at least get p5 or better.
The abuse from so-called fans continued, but it was drowned out by the waves of support you got from the real fans who cheered you on with every victory. Lando was diligent in his habit of sending you tweets and tiktok compilations about the two of you. You'd always send a thumbs down to the messages, but you both knew there was a bit more than friendly camaraderie behind the celebratory hugs, shoulder bumps between interviews, and the three taps he gave your helmet every time you got in the car.
By the time Silverstone had rolled around, the two of you were practically attached at the hip. Most meetings contained at least one instance of either of you smacking the other on the head with something as a greeting, when you had down-time it was almost inevitable that one of you was sleeping in some seemingly uncomfortable position on the other, and your habit of frequently taunting one another into sporadic games of tag when you were at home for testing or training meant that the media team had no shortage of content.
Your sad country playlist had turned from your coping mechanism into your and Lando's personal carpool karaoke playlist. He'd never listened to that much country music before, but watching you sing your heart out to the sad lyrics as the two of you drove along the roads in the British countryside had won him over on the genre. That said, there were some songs on the playlist that he always made you skip because he thought they were too sad.
He wouldn't admit it to you, but he'd saved almost the whole playlist and would listen to the songs on his own when he needed to. He’d listen to the ones he knew you liked when he wanted to remember the way you smiled when they came on, and he’d listen to the saddest ones...well, those had their time and place.
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The day the two of you had your argument was one of the days he listened to the sad songs that he always made you skip. He stood there, unable to move, watching from a window as you drove away from the MTC.
After your win at Silverstone, only somewhat guiltily stealing p1 from your teammate at his home race, you'd been approached by Ferrari. They wanted you onboard for the next season—who wouldn't, it was your first season and you'd just beat out every other team on the track with almost no real F1 development.
Lando wasn't excited when you'd told him. He was sensitive, more than he'd like to admit, and the thought of losing you—the third teammate he would have lost to a transfer since the start of his F1 career was unbearable. You'd hadn't seen things from his perspective, and you were maybe a bit too harsh with him when you had said you didn't think of all people that he'd be the one trying to hold you back.
But he wasn't, at least not intentionally anyway. He was trying desperately not to let the one person he loved cared about on this team slip out of his hands. In that moment he felt like he had failed.
The chords of the song pulled at his heart strings as it began to play through his headphones. He closed his eyes and thought about the last few months with you. He remembered the way your head had felt slumped against his shoulder for the first time in Montreal, the way you'd jokingly tell him that you missed him when you hadn't seen each other in a week or so—knowing that there was a bit of truth to it despite your sarcasm, the way you looked in the early morning trainings out at the track—your papaya race suit matching the orange halo glowing around the edges of your head as the sun rose behind you.
He felt the warmth of the sun on his face as it dipped closer to the horizon. He opened his eyes and sighed, the lyrics of the song echoing in his head. He knew where he needed to go, he knew how he felt, and he knew he couldn't lose you.
Not like this.
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The tears streamed silently down your cheeks to the back of your jaw as you drove home. The road in front of you was a messy blur of different shades of orange from the sunset as you approached your apartment.
You didn't know why you had been so upset with Lando. In all honesty you didn't know what to do. You were a talented driver, but you never expected things to go so well in your rookie season. It was no longer the pressure to do well that got to you, but the expectation that you would eventually become a champion that scared you. You felt like you were drowning again, and you'd just pushed away your lifeline.
Maybe Lando was right, you should turn down the offer and stay with McLaren...but you weren't sure he would even want to be friends after this. The thought brought even more tears to your eyes, blinding you as you parked your car and walked towards the building.
You paused when you reached the top of the path. The apartment building was on a bit of a hill, and you always enjoyed the view from this spot. Looking out across the scenery, bathed in golden light and shades of orange from the sunset above, you notice a McLaren pulling into the parking lot.
It's Lando.
You're frozen in place at the sight of your teammate turned best friend sprinting up the hill towards you. Part of you is almost surprised that he remembered how to get to your house since he'd only been to your apartment once. He's out of breath when he reaches you and his eyes are red from crying on the drive over. Instinctively, he clutches your arms; his grasp is gentle, but with a subtle tension—as though his life depended on holding you like this at least one last time.
"Please.." He gasps after a moment, trying to catch his breath, "I'm sorry, y/n...please," you watch as his eyes glaze over a bit from the tears forming in them, "I don't care if you go, just please don't leave me." His normally steady voice now trembling with emotion.
It's in this moment that you realize why he wanted you to stay. You're his teammate. Even in such a short time, the two of you had become closer to one another than he'd ever been with Carlos or Oscar, and he knew that you leaving the team would likely mean the end of the kind of friendship you had now.
You'd never seen him like this: shaken with the fear of losing his friend, losing you. He looked at you pleadingly.
You had already decided.
You wanted to end the kind of friendship you had now.
Bringing one of your hands to his cheek, you brushed away some of his tears, looking across his face with your own blurry eyes.
"Lando...I'm never going to leave you. You're my first teammate." You smile, blinking a bit to clear the tears from your eyes. "I'm sorry I lashed out at you earlier," you continued, now stroking his cheek lightly with your thumb, "I'm scared too, and I feel like I have no idea what I'm doing."
You meet his gaze again as his grip loosens, he's looking at you softly, the warm glow of the sunset intensifying behind him. You can't stand it any longer, but as soon as you reach for the back of his head, he beats you to it. Wrapping one of his arms around you to pull you close and guiding your face to his with his other hand.
His lips were warm on yours. It was like you had been parched your whole life and this was your first taste of water. The tension between the two of you from the argument before and from the past months of calculated glances and secret hand squeezes in the paddock finally melting away. The two of you only pulled away from each other when you had to breathe; laughing as you gasped for air and smiling at one another in the deep glow of the setting sun.
When you re-sign with McLaren at the end of the season, you know what you're doing and you don't feel lost.
When you get home to Lando that night, he smiles as he walks towards you across the apartment.
"Congratulations love," he said softly, pausing to kiss you, "I knew you'd come home."
You laugh and shake your head as his eyes dance across your face, there really was something about that papaya orange that you just couldn't seem to get enough of.
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author's note: @arieslost continues to be my bad influence, so you can thank her for this. Only minor editing soooo fuck it we ball. Based on the song by the same title by Zach Bryan (listen to the Z&E's version if you want to listen to it, it's better imo). Ignore the firestorm that would happen on social media if the ending happened in real life ok, I know it's not realistic just shhhhh ignore it.
tag list: @arieslost @venusacrossthestars (my enablers <3)
dividers created by, and slightly modified from, @/saradika
159 notes · View notes
Im not really sure if I am or not so I'm going here.
WIBTA for forcing someone to give me closure?
Hi, I (22NB) have a crush on a guy I'll call C (21M). I've had feelings for him for a very long time even though we don't know each other that well. I was tired of not knowing him and only seeing him every once in a while, so on his birthday (the only day I was sure I could see him).
I told him I liked him, but I didn't know him well, so I was interested in getting to know him better over time. I also understood that we were both busy with college and work, so we might not spend a lot of time together this semester.
He reacted vaguely receptive to my confession. He was nice about it and told me he also wanted to get to know me better.
A few months later and the ambiguity is killing me. He never said he returned or didn't return these feelings, and I don't really understand hints or implied language unless they're obvious. I know I should move on at this point, but I'm stubborn, and the nature of the ambiguity leads me to believe that there might be something more in the future.
What I really need is a direct yes or no, but I'm afraid it'll ruin our friendship. And I'm afraid to let go of our friendship but I really can't ignore these anxious what if's.
The breaking point for me is that today we hung out with his friends, and they started talking about relationships, and he said he'd like to find someone one day. I didn't make eye contact and became quieter afterward. I really dont know what to think, and all I did was feel angry and depressed.
Later, I told him I wanted to talk privately at a later date, but we have not had this talk yet because I don't know what to say and I feel stupid for wanting to say it.
I feel like he doesn't care about my feelings and just wanted to keep being friends by not telling me directly what he felt.
I feel like I'm being an asshole because I am forcing my mental well-being on him for closure and potentially throwing away our friendship because of some feelings I can't tamper down or ignore.
I feel like I'm being a weird, desperate incel but I also feel like he's trying to avoid a conversation with me. He never talks to me first, and even though he is nice to me and kind, I just feel like I don't matter to him at all.
Would I be the asshole for forcing this from him? I feel like the only person who'd really benefit is me. If I am rejected, I can accept that, and if I am not, then I can feel a little more secure with where I stand with him.
If he rejects me, he might lose me as a friend (because I will want time away from him to process it). I can't forsee him returning my feelings because if he wanted to be with me, we would have already been working our to that together by now. Am I just impatient? WIBTA for doing this?
What are these acronyms?
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chibieggplant · 2 days
Text
Possessive Sanji
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NSFW 18+
Jealous and possessive Sanji
Sanji watches on in jealousy as you chat with Traflagar Law, who was standing a little too close to you for his liking. Your beauty in his eyes captured the hearts of not just him, but so many men.
His possessiveness and jealousy start to grow as he stands there watching intently, as he tries to make out what the two of you are talking about. Sanji's mind races as he watches closely, his chest grows tight and his heart beats rapidly. His thoughts begin to grow paranoid and obsessive as he thinks of the worst case scenario between you and Traflagar. He can't bear to even imagine any other man getting close to you.
Sanji slowly takes a step forward, he wants to let him know that you're already taken. His mind screams for him to remain cool but his jealousy grows intense and grows paranoid that Law could be making moves on you to steal your heart. He continues to step closer to the both of you, but tries his best to act as casually as possible. He's trying so hard not to look jealous as he keeps his gaze on the two of you talking. Taking another step he starts walking up to you as nonchalantly as possible despite his burning rage. He puts an arm around your shoulder and leans his head to you.
“Y/n do you mind helping me in the kitchen?” he smiles sweetly. He knows he doesn’t actually need your help, he just wants an excuse to drag you away from Law.
You smile back as Sanji puts his arm around you, happy to see your boyfriend’s face. “Sure, what do you need help with?”
His arm wraps ever so slightly more tightly around you. “Oh just some help with the veggies I have to prep for dinner”
He leads you into the kitchen happy that he put himself in the middle of what was once a conversation between you and Law. When you enter the kitchen Sanji shuts the door behind you making sure it’s locked. He has you where he wants you, now he just needs to make sure Law doesn’t come near you ever again…or any man for that matter.
“You seemed quite talkative with Trafalgar” his voice is lower than usual with a slight possessive tone, you can almost feel the heat radiating from his body.
“It was just small talk, we were just talking about-“
“I don’t like the way he was looking at you” he quickly cut you off.
Law hadn’t made any outright advances, but Sanji sees him as a threat. His possessiveness and jealousy start to grow even more, his words carry a hint of underlying aggression.
“He was checking you out” Sanji says through clenched teeth. “I saw him”
“I didn’t notice, it seemed like he was looking at me the same way he does with everyone” you shrug brushing it off.
His paranoia starts to grow and his rage is starting to boil inside him. He runs his hands down your sides feeling your curves letting his hands settle on your waist. He’s losing it but he’s trying to play it cool. However he’s starting to slip through the cracks as he imagines other men looking at you with romantic intent and flirting with you.
“I mean can you blame him?…You are very pretty” he murmurs, brushing your hair behind your ear as he takes in all the details of your face.
“We were just talking…you know I’m yours right?”
“Yeah I know” he chuckles lightly trying to act like seeing you with law didn’t bother him in the slightest… “but I want to make sure that you know” He’s leans in, his lips brushing against your ear.
“I-I know…”
He knows you’re his but your words don’t seem to satisfy him. “You’re mine” his arms pull you flush against him, his breath hot against your ear. “Say it”
“I’m yours…I’m yours Sanji”
“Good…” he says softly, his lips brushing against your neck. “However I think you need a reminder” he murmurs before he quickly turns you around pushing you against the kitchen counter. He’s insatiable, and as his need for dominance surges, he reaches around with a possessive grip, his hands finding purchase on your heaving breasts as he begins to kiss and nibble the side of your neck.
You press back against him, the heat of his skin on yours causing you to shiver. His grip on you grows firmer, his fingers brushing over your sensitive nipples as he kisses your neck up to your ear. His mouth works at your skin, sending tingles of pleasure down your spine as the intensity of his lust grows.
“Mm, S-Sanji” you whimper, shutting your eyes tightly. Your body responds to the growing intensity of his desire. You can feel each of his sharp breaths against you, his hands grasping and groping your breasts while his fingers tease you. “That’s right” he growls, “Just like that.”
The sensation of his hands upon you sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.  With each firm squeeze and possessive caress, you feel yourself surrendering even further to his dominance, willingly offering yourself up to be claimed in every sense of the word.
“You feel that?” he whispers against the sensitive skin of your neck, his breath hitting your bare skin. His hands move down to grip your hips to pull you against him, grinding his twitching length up against your body with all his intense desire and passion.
“I want you to know I’m only this rough with you because you make me crazy” he mutters.
“You make me like this…” His lips continue to move over your neck, nibbling and kissing your skin.
“It’s because of you, that I’m like this…” he exhales, his hot breath making you shiver “Just thinking about you with another man makes me go crazy…”
“S-Sanji~” you whimper softly.
“You are mine…” he grunts, his words laced with possessive desire that betrays how much he is holding himself back “I’m only like this because of you…”
With the passion and heat of his desire mounting higher and higher, his breathing becomes heavier and more intense, his grip tightening on you.
“Can you feel what you do to me…?” he asks through heavy breaths as he rubs his buldge against your ass.
“Look at what you do to me…” his breath is panting and hot as he grinds his hips. You feel the hard pulse of him against you as he leans into your ear and whispers again. “It’s your fault that I do this…”
Your heart rate quickens as you feel his cock throb against you. Every touch and caress from his hands sends shivers up your spine as the intensity of his lust grows. Your body responds on instinct, pushing up as a response to his touch. His presence alone is enough to push you over the edge, and you feel your breath catch in your throat as you let out a soft pleasurable moan.
“You see?” he murmurs, feeling your body respond to his touch as much as you did. “This is how much I want you…” his hands trace their way up and down your body as he pins you from behind against the counter.
“I can’t control myself…” he’s panting now, his breath hot and needy. “Look at what you do…” he whispers “I’m losing it…”
He lets out a soft grunt as he presses himself hard against you from behind, his hands tracing over your curves as his fingers dip lower and lower until you can feel his fingers brushing against your panties. He lets out a low growl when his fingers reach the top your underwear.
“I’m so crazy for you…” he whispers, leaning his head against you as one hand kneads your chest while the other slips under your panties. You try to keep quiet but let out an audible gasp as his fingers brush your bare skin.
“your making me loose it…” His breaths grow heavier, the growls louder. His fingers brush against your sensitive skin, his touch growing more intense as his fingers make their way lower to caress your sensitive bud.
The tension mounts as his hand continues to brush over you, his fingers grazing on your sensitive skin. Your body responds to his touch, the heat between your legs starting to rise as though the heat from his breath alone was enough to ignite your body.
He lets out a low moan as he feels your body respond to his touch. He grits his teeth together, his grunts becoming growls as he continues to rub himself against you while his fingers work confidently rubbing circles over your sensitive area.
“You are mine,” he growls, tightening his grip on you as his hand continues to work its magic.“Mine…” his breath growls out of him, he can barely contain himself. He’s barely holding back.
Every touch from Sanji’s hand sends your body into a frenzy as his fingers rub against you. Your breath grows heavy and your heart rate quickly rises. You let out low, soft pleasured moans as he teases and touches you.
Your body trembles as his fingers rub in calculated movements, the heat of his breath on your skin igniting your nerves and setting your heartbeat to a fever pitch. The heat between your legs grows hotter and hotter as his fingers continue their movements, creating ripples of pleasure throughout you. Your body squirms against his hand, begging for his touch. Your soft moans become louder and more frequent.
“Mm~ Sanji I’m going to~”
His breath grows heavy as he realises what you’re building towards. His fingers continue their work as he pushes his hardness up against you.
“Say it…” he growls, his voice low and rough as he rubs faster and harder. “Say my name…”
“Oh, god…” you gasp, your breath quickening and your body trembling. Your fingers clench at the edge of the counter, as you arch back against him.
“Don’t stop…” you groan, your breath catching in the back of your throat and rising into a louder, more intense moan.
"Say it..." Sanji's harsh whisper burns hot on your neck as he holds you in place. His hand continues to push and rub, pushing you towards the edge. Every touch sends jolts of electrifying pleasure through you as your breath grows heavier and heavier.
“Mmm…” you murmur, your eyes closed tightly. “Sanji…”
Your hands grip tightly as your spine curves against the touch of his hand, pushing you ever so close to the edge. He is working his magic on you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body like an unstoppable force.
„Oh, god…” your breath comes out in short gasps as you try your best to contain yourself. “Sanji…” “Oh, Sanji…”
“Say it again…louder” he whispers, adding more pressure in his hand as he continues to work his fingers against you.
“Sanji! Oh, god…” your voice is shaky and broken as you are pushed closer and closer to the edge. Your body arches back against him, your legs twitching beneath you as his fingers work tirelessly at you, pushing you towards the edge.
“Not yet…” he says, his voice sounding rough and husky with desire. “Not until you say who you belong to…”
“Oh, please… don’t stop…” you plead, your breathing growing heavier and heavier as the heat rises throughout your body. His hand slows down slightly, his grip on you still tight as he puts all his force into making sure you remember who is bringing you to this point.
“Who…do you belong to?” he murmurs in a low, rough whisper. Each movement of his fingers sends ripples of sensation throughout your body as your breath grows heavier. Your body begs for more attention, your skin heating as your hips shift as much as they’re allowed to against his hand.
You let out a small whine as he slows down his pace. “S-Sanji, I belong to Sanji…please…” you gasp. “Don’t stop” Your body trembles with every caress, and every kiss, every lick of his tongue on your neck sends shivers through you. His breath growls out of him.
“Good girl…” his fingers speeding up again as he squeezes your breast tightly and pushes you against the counter. Your breath hitches as he pushes harder, his fingers finding a faster rhythm.
“I-i belong to…” your words trail off as your body quakes with pleasure. Your breath grows heavy and your eyes close as you feel the heat pooling between your legs. His grip is firm while his fingers continue to rub circles, squeezing you tightly against him, pushing his chest against your back.
“Oh, Sanji…” your breath becomes ragged as you get closer and closer to reaching your peak. Your body trembles as you start to reach the point of no return, responding to the heat and mounting pressure. Your breathing becomes ragged and your voice breaks as you reach your climax. It’s as if the entire sensation of pleasure is rushing throughout your body all at once, sending you into an explosion of satisfaction.
S-sanji!” you moan, your voice breaking as his grip on you tightens as he pushes you against the counter harder, feeling your body trembling with release on him.
“Oh, god~” you moan with satisfaction, your body writhing and quivering with each wave of pleasure that shoots through you. Your breath catches in your throat as your body quakes against his hand.
“Sanji…”you moan softly, your voice broken as he continues to rub your sensitive bud letting you ride out your pleasure.
“That’s right…you’re mine” he murmurs, his hand slowing its rhythm and applying a softer, gentler touch as your breathing grows softer as your body slows down with the intensity of the pleasure slowly declining. With his body flush against yours you can feel the warm heat of him as he cradles you against him.
“Mine…” he repeats again, a low purr in his voice as he holds you close to him, caressing your curves as he nibbles and kisses the side of your neck lovingly.
“You belong to me…” he nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, his breath on your skin feeling hot and heavy. His hands rest on your waist, kneading your soft curves as he holds you close to him.
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glittersstuff · 13 hours
Text
tea party - Luke Hughes
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Warnings; mini me part 3! Luke can't say no.
Rie's note; I want to start a series for this, so bad.
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"Can I leave you two alone?", you ask Luke, because your best friend called for help. "Sure", Luke says, nips on his water bottle and eats some cake. He loves cheat days, he doesn't have to workout in the morning and could cuddle with you two and eat whatever he wants. He misses so much of Sunny's life during the season. "Okay, please no sugar for Sunny!", you kiss his temple, ready to leave.
Luke rolls his eyes, as if he could never be able to be strict.
"Daddy?", his little curly girl comes out of her room with a pink sparkling dress after hearing the closed door, afraid they forgot her.
"Oh Hi muffin!", he speaks with a smile to her.
"Can we do make-up?", she asks with her big blue eyes. He's desperate, he just wants to see the hockey game from Michigan and exactly at this moment his little muffin wants to play.
"But Daddy wants to see the game",he tries to convince his girl to let him watch.
"I don't care", she responds, crossed arms and standing in front of him.
"but Daddy played there, do you want to join me?!", he tried again and showed up on the couch next to him.
"You're soo old, you played a lot!", is the stubborn answer. She wants to play with her dad.
He lays his head in his neck, huffs and sits back, "I'm only 27, muffin!".
"you're older than uncle Jack!", she argues. "No, he's older", Luke chuckles because she's cute. Sunny furrows her eyebrows thoughtfully.
"Mommy says you need anti aging creme so that means you're old, daddy", she speaks out her mind.
"hey I am young!"
"When you're older you need make-up!", she smiles, knowing he will say yes. He nips from his water bottle again, trying to ignore her begging.
He huffs, it's hopeless to say no after Sunny stays stubborn in front of him.
"Okay, but I want glitter eyeshadow", he demands.
Sunny runs in her room, ready to make her dad pretty. He is the most patient dad ever, sitting in this small chair, letting her be creative on his face.
"Daddy you look amazing!", his little daughter says, surprised how well she made it. "The pink glitter suits your eyes!".
He does look like a princess for her, he looks magic. (Adults would say he looks like after a wild party weekend with the boys), speaking with a girly voice, "Thanks!".
"Dad I'm thirsty", her angelic voice speaks out, already bored. "I'll bring you a water bottle, muffin", he stands up, groaning because his back hurts.
"Noo daddy! Mommy drinks tea with me when you're gone before I'll go to bed", she requested.
"without sugar!", he warns.
"Why?", she whines with her big blue eyes, "because my back needs a mattress and mommy would let me sleep on the couch if I give you sugar". Sunny acts as if she hadn't heard the no.
"My peppa pig tea with sugar, please!", she walks like a diva back in the living room. He has to laugh, her in a pink dress with her curls and confidence makes him so proud. And maybe he's not the strictest parent.
He makes the tea, one cup for each one, sitting on the couch together. He's just happy to see the end of the Michigan game. Before he could focus on the game, he sleeps in after having a serious conversation with Sunny about a new Disney princess.
"Baby? I'm home", you walk in, confused because no one replies.
You walk in the living room, you have to laugh.
Sunny and Luke cuddled up together under the blanket, highlights of the Michigan game on the television and both are asleep. On the small table are two cups of tea, you can smell her peppa pig tea she always wants. You walk closer and you have to smile really bright, Luke has pink glitter eyeshadow, mascara and lip gloss on his face. What his little girl do to him, she makes him completely weak for her five years. Without waking up these two, you take both cups in the kitchen and grin about what you saw.
You never imagined loving Luke more than seeing him as dad.
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empress-simps · 17 hours
Text
Heart Chaser
Pairing: James Potter x Reader CW: Grumpy reader, James getting injured, and Language. Genre: Fluff Summary: James tries to woo you over many times before, with what he does best- being a showoff and with a promise of a hogsmeade date if they win the quidditch tournament
Note: James is a certified simp. This is a self-indulgent one shot, enjoy reading!
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James was stupid- it goes without saying. Stupidly in love with you, who wants nothing to do with him. He always greets you with his charming smile, you greet him back with a scowl or a sneer just for him.
He was like a stubborn gum stuck in the bottom of your shoes that you have a hard time getting rid of.
“Is he hit in the head? Why is he doing fucking flips when he could make our house win?” You scowl, arms folding over your chest as he whizzes near you, sending a wink your way. The other girls around you squealed, thinking it was for them as giggles and whispers surrounded you. If anything, you were quite the contrary. If you could puke, you probably would’ve already done it by now.
“Hm, Black is quite a good player. Quite better than their stupid captain who just knows how to show off.” You commented on seeing Sirius Black swinging his bat to hit the incoming bludger that was aimed at James, effectively protecting the chaser. Her friends, Mary and Marlene looked at each other, eyebrows raised in surprise.
“Fancy dating a beater rather than a chaser, huh?”
Marlene teased while Mary chuckled, trying not to show her amusement to the annoyed you. “Right, so if I compliment a boy on his quidditch skills that means I’m madly in love with him? Great.” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you redirected your attention to the game.
“Oh come on, we were just teasing you, Y/n!” Mary pokes your side playfully, “I should’ve just let the sorting hat put me in Slytherin, that way I wouldn’t have to deal with you both.”
“Oh sod off, Y/n. You were pissing your pants in fear in front of older Slytherin students in our first year.” Marlene snickers, dodging your attempts to get to her as Mary tries to block you from actually hitting her.
“Why you little- “
“…And the Gryffindor team wins!”
Cheers erupted from your side as you widened your eyes in surprise. There he was, James Potter got off his broom as Sirius started to carry him on his shoulders, their teammates surrounding them. James met your eyes and smiled (quite stupidly in your opinion) sending a wink your way which made a sour look appear on your face. What a showoff.
“C’mon, game’s over. I don’t want to see Pothead’s face more than what’s necessary.” You grabbed them both and left the quidditch pitch. Marlene protested at first, but then immediately tried to persuade you into joining the common room party that night.
“Yeah yeah, whatever.” You waved her off, wanting Marlene to shut up and forget what you said. Oh, how wrong you were.
Which placed you in your current position, Marlene and Mary basically dragged you to the common room where you saw people drunk, dancing, or snogging. “Stay here, Y/n!” We’ll be back!” Marlene giggled, as she and Mary went off to Merlin-knows-where. You felt stupid and out of place, so you just stuck to the side and watched the scenes in front of you unfold.
“Didn’t think you were the type to attend parties like this.” A chuckle was heard, looking in the direction of the voice, you saw Remus, leaning against the wall much like what you are doing. You let out a scoff, “Marlene and Mary left to go snog some random people,” He lets out a laugh, “I figured. Would you like some butterbeer?” He offers, you shake your head politely. “It’s alright, I do love some firewhisky.” You joked, his eyebrows shot up in amusement and surprise as Sirius neared you both, seemingly heard your conversation.
“You’re quite surprising, Y/n! No wonder you got Prongs wrapped around your finger.” Sirius had his famous grin plastered on his face, handing you a shot of Olgden’s Old firewhisky. Your eyebrows narrowed suspiciously at Sirius, who urged you to take it. Just where did he even get that and how did he manage to sneak it in?
 “What’s life without a little risk?”
“Don’t even think about giving that to her, Padfoot.”
Like a knight in shining armor, James seemed to pop out of nowhere, getting in between you and Sirius, giving his best friend a disapproving look. Sirius grins sheepishly, raising one arm up in mock surrender, “Alright, Prongsie. Sorry dove! Next time, alright?” Sirius looked at you, winking and running off to somewhere before James could whack him. Remus follows Sirius closely behind to ensure he doesn’t do anything too stupid.
“Thanks, Potter.” You practically forced yourself to utter those words to the boy who had a quite lovestruck look on his face.
“Anything for you, Y/n.”
“Alright, I’ve had enough. Goodbye, congratulations on your win.” You sneered, trying to ignore the blush creeping in your cheeks at the obviously lovestruck James, who seemed to snap out of his trance. “H-hold on!” He grabs your wrist gently, stopping you.
“If we win the next game, let’s go to Hogsmeade.”
Alright, you weren’t expecting that. You stilled, trying to fight the stupid butterflies that started to appear in your tummy. What is happening to you? Did find James attractive suddenly? This needs to be stopped, at least you hope it will.
“No- “
“Y/n, please! I won’t even pass notes to you anymore in class just to get us both in detention!” He pleads, you must admit that he looks quite cute. Raising an eyebrow, you tried to fight off the amused smirk threatening to make its way on your lips. “So, you’re admitting that you did that so we can spend detention together?” You should’ve whacked him upside the head and be annoyed but strangely, you find it, dare you say- adorable.
James scratched the back of his neck, he was caught. “Erm… So, is that a yes?” You clicked your tongue, “Win the game first then we’ll talk.”
“It seems like the Gryffindor’s Captain is in high spirits today!”
You hear the commentator’s voice rang throughout the cheering crowd. Crossing your arms, you observed James, his demeanor is quite different from last time. He’s more serious than ever, barely even showing off or sending a quick your way when he flies close next to you. It was a huge difference, not that you were bummed out about it (which you secretly are.)
Marlene snickered, noticing your reaction. “Why the long face? Potter not paying attention to you?”
“Sod off, Marlene.” You grumbled, shoving her lightly making her laugh. “Hey! So it’s true! Mary, Potter managed to woo our Y/n- “ You glared at her, a hint of blush dusting your cheek. “I can only tolerate so much, Marls.”
The banter was cut short when you heard gasps and the commentator’s alarmed voice was heard. “It appears that James Potter was knocked off his broom by Ravenclaw’s beater, and he’s falling quite fast! Someone get Madame Pomfrey!”
You paled, mouth turning dry as your eyes searched frantically at the enormous quidditch pitch, feeling your stomach drop as you saw James freefall to the ground quickly.  “No…” Luckily, someone managed to make his fall to the ground a bit less dangerous by turning the ground into a putty-like texture. Biting your lip nervously, you wince as James landed with a loud thud.
He wheezed, lying on the ground, and holding his arm that was probably broken. “Merlin, that actually hurts.” He looks around, shutting his eyes in embarrassment. Out of all the places he could have fallen in, it just simply had to be in front of where you sat. James can already hear you rejecting him taking you out this Saturday.
Rushing to the Hospital Wing, you opened the doors with a loud thud, not caring if you disturbed other patients as you made a beeline to James who was talking with the rest of Marauders.
“You dumb oaf! How could you possibly lose balance in your own broom?!” You furrowed you eyebrows as you saw James visibly wince, feeling ashamed, he looked down at his arm cast. Mary places a hand on your shoulder as Marlene casts an apologetic look towards the boys.
“How will I say yes to your stupid little Hogsmeade date if you’re injured?” You ‘tsked’, crossing your arms in front of your chest, ignoring everyone’s surprised reaction. Sirius whistled, already slapping James on the back as Remus widened his eyes, Peter had his mouth open in shock and your friends stared at you in surprise, looking like you just grew another head.
James quickly looked up at you, eyes beaming with happiness as a dopey smile made its way on his face. “You… you agree?” He bit his lip, trying to contain his excitement. You raised your eyebrows, a small amused smile settling on your face. “I don’t know you’re that daft, but yes. I’ll go on a date with you Potter.”
Everyone around you cheered quietly as Madame Pomfrey sent a warning glare to your group. James grins, leaning in your direction as he looks at you. “Brilliant.” His voice is a soft murmur, only meant for you. Madame Pomfrey’s glare dissolves into a knowing smile as she turns away, giving you both a moment of privacy.
James had a way of capturing people’s hearts by just being himself, he even managed to capture yours- and he doesn’t even think about letting it go.
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