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#dream thinks george is attractive
pomellon · 1 year
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Who are all of Dream's talonmates and heartmates in the dragon au? :D I know he probably wouldn't have any more than 5 talonmates - because otherwise he'd probably have trouble remembering them all lol - and does he have one or two heartmates?
He doesn't have any heartmates yet. Since heartmates are centred around starting a family dragons will rarely pick their hearts before they're mature adults (around 40-60 y/o) and can have eggs. Most dragons follow this, even if they're a pair who don't plan to have hatchlings together.
As for talonmates his first one is George, his second one is Punz, and his third is Sapnap! I've been considering some Awesamdream for this au too so maaaybe Sam too?
Any one, or two, of his talons could upgrade to his hearts once they're older uvu
I also know for sure I want Dream and Techno to be wingmates and I think it would be really funny if Dream and Tommy were wings or thorns! Just imagine Tommy and Dream realizing they've bonded and Tommy is like :DD!! And Dream is like oh, oh no...
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demonstars · 11 months
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where did gnf say openly that he liked guys 😮 im a wee bit new
minute 5:55
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literaphobe · 2 years
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sapnap was BBH and wrote “i like buttsex” and “i like cock in my mouth”, dream was RAT
oh thank god
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dreamonminecraft · 2 years
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hey dream and george were in that loh vc together for like 10 minutes and didn’t say a single word to each other
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aprilsprincess · 3 months
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you are in love | cedric diggory x fem!reader (part 1)
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Cedric was content with what he had. He was prefect, quidditch captain and the unspoken partner of yours. He wouldn't want to risk a thing with you because everything is so good as it is. But when other students are thrown into the equation, at the end of the day, is he truly yours?
warnings: two dummies in love, reader is a Gryffindor
word count: 2.5k
a/n: This is my first fic published so I'm nervous!! But I'm going to try to make multiple parts for this one because it was just getting too long and I have so many ideas for Cedric (bc we were robbed!) Also not proofread! ₊˚⊹♡
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Fred pushed the list of self made “Prettiest Girls at Hogwarts” in the new first years’ faces. The tiny moving portraits of the Hogwarts girls looked a little silly in the first years’ minds but the twins insisted that pictures solidify their case.   
“These are who you lot should be aiming for,” he stated with confidence, utterly prideful of the list, “aside from y/n of course, she’s off limits.” 
“Off limits? She said she didn’t have a boyfriend while she toured us though?” a small first year girl chirped. The twins exchanged a knowing look before chuckling slowly. 
“The beautiful Gryffindor prefect, my little unknowing friends, is off limits because ah, right on time as usual” George dramatically cocked his head in your direction.  
You had been eating your breakfast alone quite peacefully when you felt someone in yellow dawned robes slip into the open seat beside you. 
“Cedric Diggory, Hufflepuff prefect, quidditch seeker-“ 
“And captain” George sang. 
“And just all around dream boy. All the girls think he’s bloody fit.” Fred concluded. 
“He has kind of an unspoken dibs on y/n. Has had one since last year when they became prefects. No one has even tried to make any advances on her cause of it.” 
“Why’s that?” the first years were now all huddled close to the twins, listening with intense interest. 
Fred rolled his eyes, “because look at the bloke!” A couple of students from neighbouring tables looked curiously in the direction of the loud proclamation. Looking around he leaned in closer to whisper, “Rumour has it he’s planning to put his name in for the Triwizard Tournament this year too. He’s as fit they come!” 
“Not to mention he’s so bloody nice that you can’t even hate the bloke for being so perfect.” George finished as the rest of the table nodded along, absorbing the precious information. 
“He’s not perfect you know.” Everyone whipped their head to see Hermione chiming in, not even looking up from her books. 
“If he was the dream boy you all say he is, they would’ve been together by now. Personally, I think he’s too comfortable for his own good.” 
“What’d you mean by that Hermione?” Fred asked. 
She shut her book with a thud and sighed, “Yes he’s attractive in all ways, but how long do you reckon he’s going to keep stringing her along like that? He’s been flirting with her for as long as he’s known her but won’t do anything about it. It’s sad really.” 
The twins paused while exchanging confused looks, not understanding what was so sad about the two perfect prefects’ relationship. 
“Ugh, boys!” Hermione, exasperated, gave up and opened the thick novel to continue her literature. 
It’s not like Cedric didn’t like you. He liked everything about you, but Hermione was right, he was comfortable with how things were. He wasn’t cocky, not in the slightest, but he was always far from worried when it came to you and other guys at the school. Everyone knew about you two, so he’s never been challenged for your attention. He in all honesty, guiltily enjoyed the lack of complication that the two of you had when it came to your relationship status. There wouldn’t be anything to lose if he didn’t start anything, so he stayed in his comfort with you. 
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“Morning y/n!” Cedric’s presence instantly made you feel relaxed and warm. 
“It’s such a pleasure seeing you here at my house’s table this morning Diggory.” you teased. It wasn’t completely unnatural for Cedric to join you at the Gryffindor table, but he usually felt that as a prefect, sitting at his own house table was almost a requirement. 
“I came bearing quite honourable and exciting news y/n,” he was beaming, so excited that it seemed like he was going to jump out of his seat, “I’ve decided to do it this year. I’ve officially made up my mind that I’m going to throw my name out for the Triwizard Tournament.” 
He was ecstatic, to say the least, and it was difficult for you to match his energy as you had just heard the worst news you could’ve expected from him. The Tournament has had students die while participating, so it wasn’t surprising that you didn’t want the boy you cared so much about to have a chance at it. 
He caught onto your uncertainty fairly quickly; you were obviously smiling but it didn’t reach your eyes. He let out a breath and carefully reached for your hand. 
“I know that you may feel hesitant about it but believe me, I know the risks but there is so much for me to gain from this experience. So please trust in me y/n.” his pleading eyes were too difficult to resist. 
“I do, I do trust you Cedric,” you mustered as much support as you could in that moment, “the Goblet would be stupid not to choose such a fine competitor.” Your words seemed to satisfy Cedric as he jumped out of his seat, gave you a quick kiss atop of your head and sped off to the Hufflepuff common rooms. 
He had made his mind up and the only thing you could possibly do was to try to hex that stupid over-gloried cup in your mind as you prayed to Dumbledore for Cedric’s name not to be pulled.  
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The news that students from other schools were coming to Hogwarts excited the masses. It wasn’t every day they got to see such new faces. Especially faces as attractive as the Beauxbaton and Durmstrang students. 
Everyone was bursting with excitement in the Great Hall, awaiting anxiously for the foreign students to arrive. You on the other hand were busy glancing at Cedric who was chatting happily with his housemates. 
“You’re staring you know.” Hermione’s deadpan voice made your head turn to face her, your eyes lingering just a second longer on the Hufflepuff table. 
“Honestly y/n, we have some of the greatest wizarding students coming in for a tournament that only happens every five years and your focus is on Diggory? Merlin y/n if anything, focus on the OWLs instead.” Hermione wasn’t annoyed, but instead truly baffled as to how you could easily ignore such a large celebration for one boy. 
You held up your hands in defense, but before you could retort, Dumbledore had already started introducing the new guests. 
The vision of blue overwhelmed your senses and you were stunned for a second, only being snapped back to reality by the hollering of the surrounding boys. You shifted in your seat in an attempt to see Cedric’s reaction to the Beauxbaton girls, but the rowdiness of the male students blocked your vision. Sinking back in your seat pouting, you wondered if Cedric was enjoying this as much as the other boys were. I mean, Ron was practically drooling. You didn’t have much time to sulk over the issue as you got simultaneously shoved on both sides by Hermione and Ginny. You craned your neck to see what was causing this female commotion. 
“Oh Merlin y/n, it’s Viktor Krum! And he’s even better up close!” Ginny whispered excitedly. You stared at the older boy not really impressed but you giggled with Ginny nonetheless, feeling left out of the Viktor-Krum-is-so-handsome festivities that were happening at the table. 
From across the grand path of new students, Cedric stared at you as you giggled and whispered with Ginny. Following your line of sight, his eyes were met with the stiff, soldier-like, famous Viktor Krum. Groaning, he hung his head in his hands as the noises of the Great Hall faded in his ears. He was beginning to think, maybe he was, in fact too cocky when it came to you. 
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Your friends were whispering excitedly in the courtyard when you had joined them. 
“What’s got you lot so excited?” you asked while squeezing to sit between Hermione and Ginny on the ledge. 
“Viktor Krum! What else?” Ginny chirped excitedly. Just at the mention of his name, the other girls squealed in pure bliss. You observed your young friends’ excitement happily. You hadn’t had much time to observe the new Hogwarts guests, as the reality of Cedric putting his name into the goblet this year became more and more clear to you. A warm hand delicately tapped your shoulder from behind you, breaking you from your worries temporarily, and you looked up and behind to see Cedric standing behind you while giving you his most infamous, heart-stopping smile. 
“Ladies” he nodded to the group of girls in acknowledgement before bringing his full attention to you. Content, you leaned your head back into his chest as you looked up at the boy who seemed to be radiating sunshine. 
“Cedric! What are you doing here?” you were beaming. He looked like honey. You couldn’t really describe it, but he was just so warm and so sweet. Beautiful really.  Especially in the courtyard sun. 
“I thought you could perhaps lend me your potions books for today?” he grinned lopsidedly at you as you sighed and pulled out the heavy book. How could you ever say no to this boy? 
“You’re the champion of my heart y/n, you know that?” you laughed when he clutched his heart with his free arm. Your heart bubbled with warmth. You let yourself bask in the feeling only for a moment when Ginny moved to head back to the common rooms first. Feeling rather amorous, you told her you would meet her back there soon. You wanted to share your bubbly feelings with someone and Ginny always loved listening to it. 
“Not just your heart Diggory.” Hermione teased quietly seeing that you were distracted with Ginny for a moment. She gestured Cedric towards a pair of Durmstrang students. One in particular seemed to be taking quite an interest in you. As the Durmstrang boy kept glancing at you, Cedric’s hand on your shoulder unconsciously became a little stiffer and he pulled you a little closer. 
Cedric then bent down to reach your ear and whispered lowly, “I really do appreciate it y/n. You’re not only the champion of my heart but also the one who holds my mind, body and soul in all completion.” The cheesiness of his words had you giggling. You knew he didn’t truly mean what he was saying, but the light tinge of pink on your cheeks was evident. 
Stretching back up to stand Cedric held his gaze on the Durmstrang boy, feeling rather confident and accomplished as he watched the boy’s friend pat him on the back consolingly as they walked away. 
“Oh, Merlin! I forgot that I told Ginny I’d meet her in the common room!” you frantically gathered your things and hollered rushed goodbyes. “Don’t forget to return my potions book Cedric!” you reminded and he chuckled lightly to himself in response. 
As your sporadic figure grew smaller in the distance, Hermione turned to face Cedric. “You know Diggory, every guy at Hogwarts may know of your guys’ relationship, but the ones at Durmstrang don’t.” Hermione stated matter-of-factly, making Cedric’s grin falter. 
“What’s that supposed to mean Granger?” Frustrated, Hermione groaned, “It means that although the boys at Hogwarts don’t fancy y/n, that doesn’t mean that the boys at Durmstrang won’t. You can’t pull that kind of stunt again with every Durmstrang boy she comes in contact with. Godric, boys are so dim sometimes!” she huffed as she turned on her heel to leave. 
Cedric rubbed the back of his neck, feeling quite sheepish for being caught in his rather childish act. Hermione was right though, he wouldn’t be able to keep every single guy away from you. So what was he supposed to do? 
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The night of the choosing of names came all too fast for you. You knew he put in his name. You knew he really wanted this. And for some reason, you felt like you knew he would be picked. This weighed heavily on your mind and you honestly could not for the life of you, pay attention to who the other two victors were. 
The paper flew out and Dumbledore caught it. The dread in your stomach increased to a nauseating level, the chatter of the students ringing in your ears and then the room went quiet. It wasn’t actually quiet but suddenly you weren’t able to hear the cheers of your peers as you watched the boy you yearned for so dearly, walk through the aisles in celebratory fashion. Your head started spinning, how many students had entered their names? What were the odds? How was it possible that the one student, the one student that you couldn’t risk being out in that tournament, had gotten picked? 
Cedric was on top of the world at that moment. He wasn’t too interested in becoming legendary or glorified through the Tournament but was simply elated to bring pride to the Hufflepuff House. He would be lying though, if he said that he would gladly take on the glory if it meant you would see him as such. Thinking of you, he searched quickly for your head in the crowd. When he finally spotted you, his grin widened but as he saw your fallen and disconnected expression he grew concerned and tried to move his way through the crowd to your spot. Unfortunately, it was a lost cause as the Goblet erupted once more and the wave of confused students swept Cedric further away from you. 
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“Krum’s got a yes!” Cedric turned his attention away from his house tablemates to the rowdy group of Durmstrang boys that were chirping excitedly. 
“Who’s the lucky woman Viktor? I mean half of this school wants to be your date to the Yule Ball! You have to tell us who you ended up asking!” the boys leaned in eager to hear more about Viktor’s proposal. 
“Who else, I asked the pretty Gryffindor I said I would ask.” he replied shortly, seemingly unamused by his friends. 
“Bloody hell, he’s asked y/n!” Cedric whipped his head around to the first-year Hufflepuff who had also turned to listen in. Cedric’s facial expression dropped. 
Glancing at Cedric nervously one of the older Hufflepuffs questioned the girl, “How in Merlin’s Beard would know that? Krum didn’t even say that he had asked y/n.” 
“It’s obvious!” she smiled as she hurriedly reached into her pocket and fished out a piece of paper. 
“Prettiest…Girls…At…Hogwarts” one of the Hufflepuffs read aloud slowly. Unbeknownst to you, the twins have not only been solidifying their list with the Gryffindor first years, but ALL the first years. 
“Look!” she pointed to your tiny moving portrait on the paper. 
“It says right there: y/n, 6th year, Gryffindor. If Viktor Krum had been talking about a pretty Gryffindor, it had had to be her. She’s a prefect, he would absolutely go for her!” the tiny girl smiled proudly at her findings as if she had cracked a hard case. 
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Sitting alone in the Hufflepuff common room, Cedric was deep in thought. 
Had Viktor Krum really asked you to the ball? Had you really said yes? He knew he hadn’t asked you at all but he had assumed it was only natural that the two of you would’ve gone together. Right..?
The more he questioned you and himself the more miserable he became.
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arista-stl · 2 months
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The reasons why I think Stella and Bloom's friendship is amazing and is not something we often see
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Or why Fate is trash
One aspect of Winx club I always loved growing up was the friendship between the girls. They all love each other, despite their very different personnalities and having some rough times.
While I could write an essay about almost every duo in Winx club, I do think that Stella and Bloom are the most interesting to analyze.
Even though they are part of a friend group, the show doesn't try to hide the fact that Stella and Bloom are each other best friend, they even say so themselves.
This friendship is truly groundbreaking when we think about it, for one simple reason: Bloom and Stella's archetypes usually hates each other when depicted together in media.
Hear me out.
Stella is the girly girl, the mean girl, the popular girl with a big mouth who can appear shallow. Plus, she's blond. She bases a big portion of her self-worth in her apperance. Basically, she's the Regina George of Winx Club.
Bloom, she's not like the other girls. There's nothing wrong with her, she's attractive and a sweetheart, yet she attracts attention for being different (in the show there are a few reasons for this, first she's from Earth and she's also the keeper of the Dragon Flame, making her a god-like existence in the story). She has messy hair, dresses in jeans, doesn't really care about her apperance... She's a fish out of water type of character, the character everyone can and wants to relate to. She's the Cady of Winx Club.
These two were designed to hate each other.
Taking into account Stella's nature, we expect her to hate Bloom out of sheer jealousy. Bloom doesn't try and gets all the attention, she's the new girl who turns out to be the one girl more powerful than her, she's also a princess. We could say that everything Stella can do, Bloom can do better.
And yet...
Stella would kill a bitch for Bloom. Never in the show does she display any sort of ill feelings toward Bloom, on the contrary, she spends her time trying to get her to be more confident in herself and her abilities. She's sweet with her and does her best to uplift her. I can say with confidence that Stella is the one person in the show who loves Bloom the most (tied with Daphne), like Sky doesn't hold A CANDLE to her.
When Bloom leaves on missions by herself she's worried sick, she's always clinging to her, teasing her, looking out for her. She's always the one there for Bloom when things get hard (when the Trix steal her powers, when Sky gets engaged to Diaspro, when she thinks of her family...)
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And Bloom, she just loves Stella. She's the reason her dream became reality (it was her meeting with her which caused her to learn her true nature), and Stella took her under her wing to make it easier for her to fit into this new world. She saw from the beggining that Stella was willing to lie for her, to fight for her and she couldn't help but love her, even if she had a big mouth and quite the personnality. Stella brought lightness and laughter into her world, she was her anchor.
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For real, just look at her reaction when Stella throws herself from the cliff in season two. She spends the episodes after that obsessing over finding and saving Stella.
These two can't live without each other even though one is the 'your typical mean girl' and the other is 'not like the other girls'.
Heck, everytime the villains freaking spy on the Winx these two are all over each other.
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I think the heart of their friendship is their first meeting. Stella was what Bloom had dreamed of all her life: she was a real fairy, the living personnification of her dreams. She's the one who made her dream a reality. As for Stella, she was saved by a human who risked her life and stood up for her even though she didn't stand any chance and didn't know her. Bloom was just lucky she turned out to be a fairy. Bloom then took her to her house and took care of her, without expecting anything in return, which caused them to bond instantly.
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That relationship was freaking transgressive for the time, and Fate's writers deserve jail for what they did to their friendship. Bloom and Stella fighting over a boy and Stella turning into the typical insecure and jealous mean girl? Hell no.
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Look at these queens 🥹
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Hey I'm George. I am a 26 civil engineer working in a big company but it si not what i expected. It is so boring and I am only doing it since it ws what is expected of me. I wish you could transform me into a hot stripper or porn star cause that's has always been my secret dream. I don't wanna be transformed into an object.
Transformation Letters - The gay club
Even writing the letter to the unknown company has been an act of rebellion. All your life, you have been doing what was expected of you. You finished school with good grades and enrolled in an engineering degree program.
The first years were alright. It was still interesting, and you enjoyed the classes, but slowly you had to come to the realization that perhaps, engineering wasn't quite for you. The work was getting more and more monotonous, and the tasks were less and less creative. Regardless, you graduated with an acceptable degree and got a job in the field as a civil engineer.
Now, almost three years later, you are sitting in a small office cubicle, doing the same stuff that you did in the last few years.
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"I hate it here.", you think and look at the blueprints on the wall. They are supposed to be "motivating", showing what your company builds. To you, however, they are nothing more than a reminder that the work is dull and unfulfilling.
As you get up and grab the coffee from the machine, you realize just how much of a rut your life has fallen into. Looking at the calendar on the wall, you recognize another thing: It's your birthday today. Yay. 26 wasted years, at least in your opinion. You don't have many friends or family, but for once, you decide to celebrate a bit on your own. You are going to visit a club tonight.
Some hours later, you find yourself in a gay nightclub. You are not out or anything, but your sexuality has been a matter of fact to you for some years now, so visiting a gay bar is on your bucket list anyway. The thumbing music surrounds you, making it near impossible to talk to anyone and even though it feels kind of exciting to be in such a location, you can't help but feeling kind of lonely and displaced here. Seeing all those hot guys dancing makes it terribly obvious for you that you are way too uptight to ever move your body to the music like that.
But... Perhaps you should just... try?
The thought is entirely alien to you, but... strangely appealing. So, you just try to dance to the music.
At first, it feels very awkward and a bit uncomfortable, but after a few moments, you relax. And, to your big surprise, you actually manage to move your body along with the beat. As your self-confidence grows, so does the speed and forcefulness of your movements. Before you know it, you have attracted the attention of a group of three men. Normally, being the center of attention would be something you despise, but right now it feels liberating and right. So right, in fact, that you do something crazy! The stage is empty right now, and, following these strange new impulses, you climb onto the stage and begin to dance to the music. You are still wearing your work attire and it is quickly becoming way too warm as you move your body. So, without thinking, you slowly begin to unbutton your shirt.
To your amazement, the crowd begins to cheer and applaud. It is like a wave of acceptance and approval washes over you, and the more buttons you undo, the more enthusiastic the cheering becomes. It is somehow getting easier and easier to follow the beat. Both your sense of rhythm as well as your physical fitness seem to increase and moving to the music quickly becomes a second nature for you. When you have finally unbuttoned your shirt, you slide out of it and spin it around your hand a few times before throwing it into the crowd. A bunch of hands shoot up, and the shirt quickly disappears. You keep moving to the music, now only wearing a white undershirt, which sticks to your skin and reveals your well-toned body. You have been working out once in a while, trying to keep yourself fit with mediocre success, but even you are a bit surprised how well your body looks right now. Your muscles are defined and bulging and when you pull the undershirt off as well, the cheers rise to an almost deafening level.
It feels like a wave of energy rushes through your body. You can barely think straight and the only thing you can focus on is the music and the movement. You have already gotten used to being the center of attention, but now, even more people join the crowd around you. They are staring at your body, and you can clearly make out their lust and admiration, making you smile. The next thing to go, is, of course, your pants, which you slowly peel off and, as with the shirt, throw them into the crowd, where they disappear as well.
Your movements are becoming faster and faster, and soon, you have almost completely shed your clothes, revealing your athletic and lean body, now shining with sweat. Your ample bulge is thinly veiled by your pair of bright blue briefs that do their best to set your assets, both your dick and your ass, into scene...
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***
Hey, I’m Elias, a 22yo bartender with a French and Linguistics degree at University, though sometimes I wish I could trade smarts for sports and strength. I don’t think I’m unattractive, I never have much problem getting attention from guys at the club, but I feel like guys just look at me like I’m another pale twink with brown hair and hazel eyes. I don’t want to be an object, I like being a man: I just want to be more manly. Muscles and beard, I want to look powerful and have other guys be jealous of me.
It's a usual Friday evening for you, and you are tending bar in the towns gay club as usual. It's not too bad - your twinkish body usually gets you some tips, and today is no different. There are times, however, that you wish you were just a bit more... manly. Of course, everyone always wants to be what they are not. But seeing those sexy guys every day, made of beef and manliness makes you almost hate your thin and slender form. That is, after all, what made you write that letter some weeks ago, even though you already forgot about it by now.
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All of a sudden, one of the club's visitors climbs onto the stage. Even though it's empty right now, people aren't supposed to go up there, for insurance reasons. Apparently, nobody else has noticed, so you decide to handle the situation yourself. You tell your colleague on the bar that you will be right back and then make your way to the stage.
The guy who has climbed up there seems to be some kind of office worker and is apparently completely focused on dancing. You just want to tell him to come down from the stage when he begins to unbutton his shirt in the rhythm of the music. Having forgotten what you meant to do for a moment, you stare, mesmerized at the guy on stage slowly getting out of his shirt. He looks quite attractive and moves his body like a pro. The crowd notices the show, and slowly, the whole scene becomes the focus of attention. The office guy has now spun his shirt around and thrown it into the crowd, which has now grown considerably. You have to admit, the whole show and the guy look kind of sexy. Not your usual type, he has more of a lean and athletic body that is revealed more and more with every move he takes. Still, he is good.
Next to you, directly in front of the stage, one of the red faux leather chairs has just become free, as the guy who sat in it went to get some drinks. The crowd is moving constantly and, without really thinking, you take a seat there. The office worker is still dancing, his sweaty body almost glowing, and his bulge looks impressively large, even in the low lighting of the club. You can feel yourself getting hard, and through your suit pants, you feel yourself up discreetly.
Actually.
Fuck discreetly. You rub your crotch through your pants while your eyes are still glued to the stripper on stage. Your mind is slowly going blank. You don't notice how the other bar patrons slowly stop moving to the music and gather around the stage instead, watching the office guy perform. You are completely entranced, unable to think, just staring at the spectacle in front of you, while your cock strains against the fabric of your pants.
Actually, your cock is not the only thing straining against your clothes. It is as if all your body is expanding, in every direction, all at once: Your shoulders, your arms, and your legs widen and grow thicker, while your ass and muscles swell. At the same time, the first hints of stubble and beard hairs break through your skin.
Your suit feels constricting, and you consider getting up to go to the bathroom to get out of them. But...
Actually.
Fuck modesty. With more raw strength than elegance, you remove your clothing while you still can. Your body continues to grow stronger and stronger and when your chest is bared, your nipples have hardened to the point where they seem like small pebbles.
It feels so fucking good to just get out of the clothes that are becoming more and more uncomfortable with every passing second. You watch with a superior smile as hair also grows on your chest and abs, as well as on your legs and arms, making your whole torso look furry.
When your pants are gone, your underwear is the only piece of clothing left on you.
And fuck, that's getting really tight!
But, as you watch, it is morphing into a different material. What was once a pair of cotton boxer briefs quickly becomes a pair of black shiny leather underwear, pronouncing the growing bulge of your hard cock. The bulge is, of course, not only growing because you're rock-hard: Also, inside the alien pair of leather underwear, your member is growing bigger and bigger with each throb, slowly becoming a true monster cock.
Other parts of you don't seem to be stopping growing larger as well: Your biceps are more than impressive right now, your forearms look like you can crush a watermelon with them and your thighs are as thick as tree trunks.
As the music keeps playing, the hair on your body grows denser and longer. You now have a manly full beard, and, as you cross your strong arms behind your head, a thick bush of hair emerges from each of your armpits, flooding the direct vicinity with your manly stench.
You grin as you look up to the stripper, who is just about to shed his pair of blue underwear and lick your lips. After the show, you're gonna take him home and breed him!
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How about the towns people reacting to the farmer who despises joja. Like, think about it. The farmer left their soul sucking office job at joja behind only to see them again right across the bridge. I bet they would support the community centre out of spite.
They are normally a friendly and sweet person but the moment joja comes into the conversation they snap a little. Morris talks to them and their left eye twitches rapidly cuz this guy reminds them way too much of their old boss. They have dark dreams about the blinking lights of the work and rest lights and the bosses looming over them through the glass in their office.
Locals swear they see the light disappear from their eyes whenever they accidentally fish up a joja can.
Oh man, That's just about a perfect description of my OC Farmer. He is by nature a very kind and patient man, but every time he sees JojaMart, catching more trash with that logo on it, or sees people who use every means, even mean ones (remember that scene with Morris), to destroy the competition and become monopolists, he gets very sarcastic. Sometimes, it can be just pure rage.
But let's not talk about my OC, because the question here is about a neutral farmer 😅 So enjoy, dear anon!
SDV townies react to the Farmer who despises Joja:
Marlon's mind is more on protecting the Valley from monsters than on boycotting some store. He wouldn't have known about this until one day Farmer came in with a bunch of soda cans with the Joja logo on them, while swearing about the same logo. They told to the one-eyed adventurer that they had fished this cans of the mine waters at level 100. How these soda cans managed to end up in literal lava without burning or even deforming from the lava's temperature was a mystery to Marlon.
Stardew Valley has its own zest that makes the place unique, and according to Penny, JojaMart is ruining that uniqueness. Plus they constantly put promotions on the beer and ales they sell, which Pam just can't refuse. So Penny isn't too thrilled about Joja.co appearance in Pelican Town either.
How Willy understands them! There is already so much garbage floating in the sea from Joja's products that has endangered fish and other marine life. And the mart that was built here has only made the problem worse. So the old sailor will support the Farmer if they want to kick this corporation out of Pelican Town.
Not that George would care much where his wife bought the leek: from the farmers or from that huge store. After all, a leek is a leek no matter how you cooked it. Still, though, memories of his grandfather and his farm bring back fond memories of things that used to be both simpler and better. He's also annoyed by the loud music coming from the speakers in that supermarket, which is "supposed to attract customers" but distracts him from his nostalgic thoughts. Can't he have some quiet time in his own home anymore! If the Farmer wants to stage a boycott, then George will be the first of the participants!
Oh, this is so much fun! Abigail feel bad that she provokes Farmer on purpose, but it's not her fault that her friend gives such a funny reaction at any mention of Joja. "Look, Sam bought me a Joja cola, you want some?" *Possum hissing*
Haley thinks the Farmer is a fool. The only civilized supermarket in town, and Farmer looks at it as an insult to all humanity. Yes, the quality of the clothes leaves a lot to be desired, but there are a variety of sweets to choose from! And there's plenty goods for farming, too. The girl doesn't understand what Farmer's problem is.
Whoa whoa, easy, why the outburst of rage? What? Yeah, Alex bought a dozen eggs at JojaMart. After all, he needs protein. Hey! What's the Farmer doing? Give it back, why did they take the eggs?! If they wanted some egg, they could just ask! Wha?... Oh, the Farmer gave him three dozen eggs. These are from their farm? Uh, thank you. So big, and much better quality than he bought from Joja..... So, how's he gonna explain to Grandma that Alex now have three dozen eggs?
Gus sincerely hopes the Farmer doesn't vandalize his Saloon, at least as a sign of respect for the very owner of the establishment and his property. Because they've been looking at that Joja soda machine for too long. It's like they're trying to desiteng this poor vending machine. He may also have to take Joja Coke off the menu.
*Gasp* Hee-hee. Oh, Marnie can't stop laughing. To be honest, at first the young Farmer's angry stare and scolding caught her off guard and frightened her a little. But later, she can't stop giggling after every barbed comment towards Joja.co, their old boss and "colleagues".
Sheesh, wow. Sam would never have thought that a person could cringe like that at the mention of Joja. The young guitarist should think twice before opening a can of Joja Coke with Farmer standing next to him, because they will vaporize that very can with a look.
Jas already knows what natural resources are and has often heard from Miss Penny that many huge corporations often abuse and deplete these same resources. And this thought makes her sad. But she does not want to quarrel with anyone, so Jas will offer the Farmer to draw a poster together so that Joja will respect nature and makes products that do not harm animals and plants (spoiler: it won't work, but the Farmer was very touched by the girls’ idea).
Bad food? Bad store? But Mr/Mrs Farmer, why do you say that? Vincent doesn't really understand why they hate that store so much, where he often goes with his mother to visit his older brother and buy groceries. His mom even also buys him ice cream in the form of a dinosaur! Because dinosaur is so cool. What? Do they have a living dinosaur?! In a coop? Can he take a look please??? The farm is much cooler than this "Jodja'! Mom look, Mr/Mrs Farmer has a pet dinosaurs!
Oh, that whole blue trash things makes Leo and his bird family very sad. So he understands why the Farmer is so upset too. But the boy is not discouraged and wants to make a clean-up day together with Farmer, Linus and the parrots. Maybe the Joja people will see the beauty of nature and stop littering!
Oh, no, Farmer. You don't need to show so much negative emotion! Emily herself is not fond of Joja and their constant pollution of the environment with their waste, but absorbing so much anger and spreading it to others is not the best way to go about it. She does worry about the Farmer's mental state and will offer them meditation classes to get rid of the bad thoughts associated with the old job and Joja in general.
Shane would probably be the second person who truly hates Joja. Stupid, energy-sucking job, stupid boss who makes him work overtime, stupid uniforms that don't fit him and that make him itch. Can the occasional theft of beer and frozen pizza from Joja's warehouse be considered a form of protest?
Caroline nearly dropped her tea cup when Farmer literally hissed at the mention of Joja and Morris. The two of them were sitting alone in her sunny room drinking tea and Caroline was a little sad that her husband's business had gotten tougher since JojaMart had come to town. She had heard from the Mayor the reason for the Farmer leaving their old job and truly understands their decision (after all, life in the big city can be very tiring). Though the young Farmer's reaction to the mention of Joja.co has her a bit amused.
But when Pierre walked into the sun room (to pick up his gardening tools) where his wife and Farmer were sitting, and heard the conversation about his store and Joja, he started wailing and whining about the desperate situation. And the shopkeeper would wholeheartedly support Farmer in the idea that everyone would be much better off without blasted Joja! However, when the Farmers were about to leave, they thanked Caroline for the tea, and finally, with a sly smile, said that "Joja will not stay here for long". What this meant, neither Pierre nor his wife understood.
"Fuck! Fucking bitch ass Joja with their fucking cans and CDs! I want fish, not that dog ass shit plastic! Rot in hell, you goddamn corporation, bunch of bastards and rats!" Sebastian is used to Farmer's tirade by now, and watches from the kitchen window, sipping his coffee, as his poor friend has been trying to fish the mountain lake for the past two hours. Judging by their profanity, fishing was not going well.
But poor Maru, who almost dropped the wrench on her foot, heard the Farmer's profanity for the first time and thought something was wrong. When she went out to inquire after their fortunes, they were already sitting on the shore crying... and surrounded by the garbage from Joja.co. The young inventor invites Farmer into the kitchen for a cup of coffee with her and her half-brother.
While the brother and sister consoled Farmer with words and caffeine, Demetrius, seeing that there was now a lot of plastic lying nearby, offered to the Farmer take his recycling machine and scheme if they wanted more machines. Recycling would help to bring the environment back to its former state, also the recycled garbage would become useful products for the farm! Demetrius thinks it's unlikely that they'll be able to boycott the huge company in any way, so it's better to help the ecology like that at least.
Robin almost died laughing. "Holy macaroni, you swear like an old sailor!" She really didn't expect such profanity from such a quiet and kind person, but her son and daughter were not the only ones who heard the poor youth's tirade after a bad fishing trip. But Robin doesn't want to tease the poor Farmer, so she goes along with her husband's offer to take their recycling machine.
Oh dear, don't be so furious, you get a headache! Evelyn can understand why the poor Farmer is upset, but she would hate to see such a kind and sweet youth in a constantly bad mood because of Joja. Maybe they'll drop by for tea? She just baked cookies, and didn't use Joja products, granny promises! *wink*
Linus can feel Mother Nature weeping and choking on all this garbage and waste. And how her crying has gotten stronger since Joja their big store in town. The wise man stays calm though and tries to comfort the Farmer, because anger clouds his thoughts and it's impossible to think of ways to help nature.
Hmmm, dear, but Joja is full of good gardening supplies and farming seeds, and at a low price. Jodi thinks they should look in there and get something for.... Oh, okay, fine. Jodi won't mention Joja again, or she gets the impression that nice Farmer is transforming into a beast before her eyes.
Now, now... There's no need to get so angry or you'll get high blood pressure, Harvey knows what he's talking about. Anger is inherent in everyone, but he is well aware of how mental problems later affect a person's physical health. So if Farmer doesn't learn to control their anger, then it will be Dr. Harvey himself who gets angry. And take his word for it, Farmer, he will scold you severely.
For all his desire to help Farmer, Rasmodius feels he should not interfere in people's lives, much less use magic for it. Plus, he feels that there's no point in looking for an answer to solve a problem when the answer is right in front of them. Hmm? What is he talking about? Ah, young adept, the forest spirits will show you the way, you just have to learn to listen to them carefully.
Leah knows what it's like to live in a big city at an energy-sucking job, under the all-seeing eye of a mega-corporation (also with her ex who mumbling everyday about more profitable professions). And when Leah sees JojaMart, her mind involuntarily returns to that unpleasant part of her life. To be honest, she would also start snarling and hissing like a Farmer because of Joja or any other company that is trying to greedily take Stardew Valley for itself.
Elliott bows before Farmer: to reach such a peak of eloquence, masterfully masking sarcasm in conversation with the help of barbs and epithets - such a level was not even reached by Elliott himself, even with his rich vocabulary. The writer doesn't know why this manager from Joja.co angered the always good-natured Farmer, but Elliott made a note to himself to never get on the Farmer's bad side.
All right, kiddo! Don't bark at the store like a guard dog! Do Pam a favor and move your bum away from the main JojaMart entrance, she has to get a dark ale on special, plus a 15% off coupon. Huh, don't like Joja? Then don't look at them and problem solved! Like a piece of cake.
The tired father had to put his hands over Vincent's ears more than once to keep the youngest of his sons from hearing the endless stream of profanity from their new Farmer about the greedy megacorporation. Though Kent would be lying if he said the whole rant didn't make him laugh. Still, he tries to hide a smile under his wife's stern gaze.
All right, enough! Why don't you stop swearing, there's little kids walking around! Lewis can understand anything, but not useless swearing. The town mayor really does miss the days when they were all at the old Community Center, but yelling at Joja won't do anything. What do you mean the "Community Center will soon be alive again"? Farmer? Where are they going? Yoba, they're just like their Grandfather. Sigh, what a daredevil...bless your soul, my old friend.
Satisfied with his work and how quickly the number of visitors to JojaMart was growing, Morris didn't even notice how, when talking to a new resident of the Valley (aka "potential customer"), the poor "listener" had a twitch in his eye and a cringing their face. Well, one gets a tic, he doesn't really care. Although when Morris was at the restored Community Center where people started boycotting Joja, now his eye started twitching.
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mia-ugly · 9 months
Text
In honour of Good Omens Season 2
HAVE A SLOW SHOW FICLET with thanks to @weatheredlaw for the amazing graphic ❤️❤️❤️ how we doing fam
It’s a kid on set that first tells him. 
Not really a kid, but anyone less than thirty seems a kid to him these days (ugh, that’s a loathsome thought.) Jiyana’s a queer and pink-haired punk type, rainbow pin on their jacket, trans-pride flag tattooed on their inner wrist. The first time he met them, the whole wirey confident glittery thing made his gut clench with - what was it - joy and gratitude but also envy? Maybe? (because what must it be like to be that young and that certain of yourself? What must it be like to have the whole world open in front of you? Not that there still isn’t a lot of shit to deal with, and in Merry Old fucking England there is More Shit than Otherwise, but. Still. It’s something Crowley thinks about. Sometimes. When he hasn’t had enough sleep or when he’s had too much of it.)
The kid came up to him Day One to mumble about “being a big fan” and once they wore a Warlock t-shirt to an afterparty (“Vintage!” they said cheerily, and Crowley wanted to swallow his own face at the thought of something from the 2010s being considered vintage, good Christ.)
Anyway, Jiyana tells him first.
“Congrats on the new season!” They’re beside him in the makeup trailer. Crowley doesn’t realise they’re talking to him, assumes they’re wearing AirPods or something, until George gives him a nudge with the powder puff.
“Er, yeah, cheers.” It’s too early to talk to anyone this perky. Then his exhausted, coffee-less brain takes a moment to catch up with his exhausted, coffee-less mouth. “Er, wait, what?”
“Warlock. Heard it’s coming back. Did I tell you I wrote a paper on it in, like, Grade 10? So cool, the GSA at my highschool used to have watch parties, I can’t wait to see what they do with your -“
“Wait -“ Warlock? It’s been bloody years. “Where’d you hear this?”
The kid starts to list off some sites or social media whatsits that Crowley has never heard of, so he just nods and pretends to understand, the same way he does when Az’s niece tries to explain some show called “Jojo’s Big Adventure” or something. Validate, validate, empathise. Just like Pepper taught him.
It’s probably nothing right? A rumour.
But it’s a rumour Az has heard too.
When Crowley gets home that night (they’ve rented a house in Buckinghamshire, even though the studio’s not two hours from their cottage) Az is on him immediately. Heard about it from his sister apparently, who got the news from one of the kids.
“Isn’t that exciting?” His face is all lit up and his hair is wet, bathrobe snugly belted around his waist. The house has an indoor pool, and there are little indents on Avery’s nose where his extremely attractive and sexy swimming-goggles must have been resting.
Crowley presses his lips to each mark.
“Not that we’ve been going hungry or wanting for work –” Az continues.
“You work too bloody much,” Crowley murmurs into his cheekbone.
“But I do love those characters. The whole thing wrapped up so nicely though – what more is there to tell?  I wonder what the arc could possibly be.”
“I wonder what you’ve got on under this robe –”
“Anthony!” Az laughs in fake protest, tilting his head back so that Crowley can get his mouth on his throat. Yeah, that’s the ticket. Az tastes like chlorine, and maybe Crowley should join him in the shower after this. After a day in the studio, he could probably use it.
“Would you really want to do a series again?” Crowley asks after he’s finally let his husband go, turned to hang up his coat and thrown his bag on the nearest chair. “Awful lot of commitment. And you’ve that whole run at the Globe coming up, don’t rehearsals start in the spring?”
“We’ll have to see if Helen can mind the goats again while we’re in London.” Az has wandered into the kitchen, turned on the kettle. Crowley looks at the back of his neck (Crowley always looks at the back of his neck. Sometimes he dreams about it.) “If she’s free. I called her this morning to check in, Elmyra’s eating, so her anxiety must be getting better.”
“Cool, yeah,” Crowley says, casual and nonchalant and no big deal. As if Elmyra isn’t his favourite of the bunch and he doesn’t have a song that he made up and no one knows that he sings just to her. As if he didn’t hand feed her all night once because she wasn’t sleeping or eating and neither was he because he was so afraid this tiny rescue goat was going to starve to death, anyway whatever, super cool, who cares. “Is it weird that no one’s reached out to us, though? Do you think?”
“About the goats? Helen has my number –”
“No love, the Warlock thing.”
Az blinks at him, flutters his pretty blond lashes in an attractive, aggrieved sort of way. “You mean you haven’t heard from Beez?”
“I haven’t heard from anyone.”
“Oh.” Az thinks it over. “Well. Neither have I, actually. Do you – is that odd?”
“Maybe they’ve recast us with younger models.”
“They wouldn’t dare.”
“Gotta up the sex appeal of the whole thing. Jawlines. Cheekbones. Sexy results.”
“I –” Az goes a bit pink. Glances at Crowley and then away. “Fail to see how they could improve upon perfection.”
Crowley looks at his husband’s bathrobe and the slight scattering of silver chest hair and his hand on his tea cup and fuck off, his neck. His neck, his neck, who gives a shit about Warlock actually?
 “Come over here and say that to my mouth.”
Avery smiles, and sighs, and he does.
ONE YEAR LATER:
Crowley opens the email from Beez.
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He fuckin' closes it.
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demonstars · 1 year
Note
it would go like this
I'VE READ IT. BANGER FIC AS USUAL. GEORGE PURSUING A WOMAN IS JUST NOT IT
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kitty-tea · 3 months
Text
Like father, like son
Part 2 @xcinnamonmalfoyx
(Read part 1 part 3)
(Link to masterlist)
Summary: After the drastic event in you, James, and Harry’s lives, things aren’t the same, but that still doesn’t dull your attraction towards James. In fact, the more time you spend apart from him, the more you can’t stop thinking about him.
A/n: Hi welcome to part 2! This turned out to be way longer than I intended.
Pairing: dilf!James Potter x reader
NSFW 18+ only!
Word count: 5k
Tags/warnings: super long, porn with plot, sexual content, nsfw, masturbation, sex dream, pet names, age gap, reader is of age, James lives, death, angst, fluff, not canon complacent, slow burn, conflicting feelings, sexual frustration, guilt, James is a dilf
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The day came for you to say goodbye to Harry. It was also the day Molly and Arthur would pick you so you could move into their house during the school year since the older children had moved out and they could use an extra pair of hands around the house.
Before the train left, you, Harry, and his parents met up with Hermione and the Weasleys. You thought of how glad you were to see them again as you gave each one of them a hug. Ginny had grown taller, Ron had grown stronger, Hermione was still smart as ever, and the twins were still the same goofballs you had graduated with.
You thought it was unusual that Harry gave you an even bigger hug than he did to his parents.
“You alright there?” You asked him.
“I’ll miss you, you know.” He said. “It’ll be my first year without you.”
“Hey, what about us?!” Fred and George’s voices came from behind you, making you jump.
“He’ll get over it.” You turned to them and waved your hand in front of you. “And he was talking to me.” You rolled your eyes playfully.
“Sure he was.” You could practically hear the smirk in Fred’s voice.
“Who wouldn’t miss their big sister?” Same with George’s.
“Don’t you guys know you’re embarrassing him?” Hermione joined in on the conversation.
She was right. You looked in Harry’s direction, where you were greeted by his blushing face.
Why did it seem like they all knew something about Harry that you didn’t?
“Everything will be alright, Harry. We’ll write to each other.” You gave him a reassuring smile and rubbed his back in an attempt to soothe the redness in his cheeks, but that apparently only made it worse.
“I’m sure he’ll be writing to her more than to his parents.” You heard one of the twins whisper to the other one.
You had an easy time distracting yourself from the grief of your parent’s deaths and your forbidden attraction towards James. There was never a boring day in the Burrow. You were always doing something with Molly and Arthur whether it was training, helping out in the garden, cleaning and cooking, or helping the both of them host Order meetings in their house. Other times, you were writing back and forth to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. In his latest letter, Harry had written that he had become the captain of the Quidditch team, and Ron became the Keeper, both of whom you congratulated in your subsequent letters.
The Order meetings were something you dreaded as much as you looked forward to because it was when you’d be forced to be in the same room as James and Lily, whom you hoped wouldn’t suspect you of having a crush on her husband.
You weren’t expecting to embarrass yourself when you came downstairs wearing Percy’s old sleepwear. In the living room was every adult member of the Order you’ve met so far. Not every member showed up to every meeting, so this was a surprise for you.
You saw Remus and Tonks sharing a seat on an oversized armchair big enough to fit both of them while her parents were standing nearby, talking to them. The younger Tonks was the first person to see you as she gave you a goofy grin and waved at you. Next to the pair, the twins were standing next to each other in their own side conversation. Sirius, James, and Lily were at the dining table. Across the room, there was Mundungus Fletcher looking at a shelf of magical artifacts as if they were the most interesting things in the world, and Alastor Moody stood next to him, as if he were making sure he didn’t steal anything. You thought you saw Molly throw a disgusted look towards Fleur Delacour who was talking to Bill and Charlie.
“What’re you all doing here?” You asked groggily.
“Time for you to go back to bed, young lady.” You heard Sirius say.
“What’s going on?” You ignored him.
You then noticed everyone looking at each other back and forth, making you feel awkward.
“Make sure she doesn’t find out.” Tonks was whispering and you saw Remus and Sirius roll their eyes at her inability to keep her mouth shut.
“Find out about what?” You looked at Tonks straight in the eyes.
“Nice one, Tonks. Now she’s going to find out.” Fred elbowed her.
“At least it’s not us getting in trouble this time.” George whispered to his brother.
“Will someone tell me what’s happening?” You demanded the now silent crowd.
“It’s about Dumbledore.” Alastor Moody was the one to get straight to the point.
“We think there’s a plot to assassinate him.” Remus said reluctantly.
“You think?” You raised your eyebrows at him. “What evidence is there? Who brought this up?”
“We got a letter from one of the students.” Sirius said, looking towards his two companions at the table. “It was discovered that Draco Malfoy had been the one planning it. Voldemort had tasked him over the summer. There were other unsuccessful attempts-”
“What student?” You interrupted him.
“That’s not important.” James said.
“Harry followed Malfoy into the bathroom and interrogated him after he overheard Snape scolding him about how he was supposed to poison Dumbledore, not Ron.” As fast as Tonks had blurred out the story, everyone else glared at her.
“Oops.” She whispered meekly.
“You’re going to save Dumbledore right?” You asked everyone, making sure to look them all in the eye. They all gave each other that look that implied they were planning something that excluded you.
“We can’t let you come with us.” Arthur said.
“Why not?” You asked him.
He didn’t let any emotion show on his face.
“There will be Death Eaters trying to get into the school. If they see you, you’ll be in even more danger. They’re already looking for you.” With a deep breath he added, “Especially because they failed to find you and kill you after they did to your parents. Or worse… Make you join them. I’m so sorry.”
“You mean all this time they were looking for me?” You were shocked at Arthur’s revelation. “That’s why you kept shuffling me around different homes this past year. Because you were hiding me without me knowing.” It was all starting to make sense.
“Arthur, that’s enough you’ve upset her.” You must’ve looked like you were about to vomit because Molly came over to you and put an arm around your shoulder.
“Come on, Dear. Let’s get you upstairs. I’ll make you a cup of tea.” She said to you.
“I’m going.” You said boldly.
“No you are not.” James slammed his hand on the table as he stood up.
“If they’re looking for me, let them find me. I don’t want to hide. I want to be a part of something that makes a difference. Isn’t that what it means to be a member of the Order of the Phoenix?” You shrugged off Molly’s hand from your shoulder.
“Hogwarts Express leaves in two hours.” Moody said.
“Alastor! No!” Molly yelled in a threatening tone like she was dealing with the twins.
“She has a point. If she wants to prove she’s capable of handling herself, let her. I trust her.” You were thankful at least someone knew the right way to treat you like an adult.
You could tell no one in the room was happy with what Moody had to say even if he did have a point.
James couldn’t stop bouncing his leg against his seat. The countless possible outcomes of what could happen to you ran through his mind faster than the train was running. He felt Lily’s hand patting his thigh, as if trying to soothe him.
“I remember my first time riding this train.” She smiled, looking out at the mountains.
James scoffed. “So do I. That’s when I first met you. And Snivellus. You know we’ll see him right? He works there.”
“Come on, James. He’s changed just as much as you did.”
“From what Harry’s told us about him, I know he’s changed from a bitter teenage boy to a bitter teacher.”
“It’ll be alright, you don’t have to be overly friendly with him if you do see him.” James felt comforted as she put her hand on his.
The scenery zooming past the window did nothing to soothe the nauseous feeling inside your stomach that had been there since the morning. One thing you were grateful for was that you were alone in the compartment. You didn’t want anyone else to see you like this, all huddled up with your knees to your chest, looking like a nervous wreck. You didn’t want the others to regret their decision to bring you along. You were starting to second guess yourself. Maybe you should’ve listened to James and Arthur by staying at the Burrow.
You tapped your finger against the handle of your wand that was tucked into your boot. You then moved onto fiddling with the laces of your dress, (the one that Sirius dug out from his mother’s closet.) You had to busy yourself with anything to get your mind off your anxiety.
You were a Gryffindor. It was your job to be brave, you reminded yourself as you let yourself doze off.
You awoke to a knock on the window of your compartment door. You sat up and rubbed your eyes as the faces of Moody and Tonks came into focus.
You opened the door to let them in.
“Good evening, Sleepyhead.” Tonks greeted you, alerting you that it was in fact evening already and that you’d be arriving in Hogsmeade soon.
“Now, you listen to me.” Moody said, as he let his staff bang on the floor in front of him before he and Tonks took a seat in front of you. “I trust you enough to come with us. Tonks and I both think you’re ready.”
You looked at Tonks, who gave you one of her goofy smiles and a thumbs up.
“The problem is,” Moody continued with a frown. “The others underestimate you. They can’t keep coddling you.”
“Don’t worry.” Tonks gave you a reassuring smile. “I remember my first mission with the Order. I was just as nervous as you are.”
“Don’t, under any circumstances, separate from anyone in the group.” Moody said to you gruffly. “Are we clear? You can’t be seen alone by a Death Eater.”
“Yes sir.” You said.
As soon as all of you got off the train, you looked at each other, sensing a more sinister presence across the Black Lake looming over the school.
“They're here already.” Sirius said grimly.
“How? We know the teachers put up protection charms around the school to keep out the Death Eaters.” James said.
“I don’t know, James.” Sirius shrugged. “But we need to get there quickly.”
All of you then rushed to where the carriages were. You looked on sadly as you saw James sitting next to Lily with Remus and Sirius across from them.
You shivered in your dress as you got onto the carriage with Tonks and Moody.
“I know what you’re thinking…” Tonks caught you off guard when she winked at you.
“Excuse me?” You looked to Moody for clarification, but it seemed he was just as confused as you were.
“Don’t pretend like I don’t know what you’re thinking. I went through the same thing with Remus.”
Your eyes widened and you blushed as it then clicked in your brain what she meant. Moody looked on to the side of the carriage, completely ignoring you two.
“There’s no need to feel bad even though he’s married.”
“What?!” You loudly whispered as you covered your mouth. You looked at your two companions feeling embarrassed.
“Moody’s been around too long to not know how to keep secrets and ignore them.” Tonks said nonchalantly.
You felt disturbed that she was able to read you so openly. If she was able to do it, you’d hate to imagine what the others might pick up on from you.
“I know you.” Tonks went on. You wanted to tell her to shut up as much as you wanted her to keep talking. “You’re too innocent to want to hurt Lily. That’s why you’ve never said anything. Don’t be scared of your feelings as long as you don’t act on them.”
“Yeah, I won’t.” You scoffed, more to yourself.
“Then you haven’t got anything to worry about.” She said a little too cheerfully.
“Oh… thanks?” You didn’t know what else to say about her awkward, but well-intentioned attempt at giving you advice.
As you got to the school, your nerves didn’t calm down one bit. In fact, they seemed to multiply. Heeding Moody’s advice, you tried to stay as close to everyone, but you somehow found yourself alone in the familiar dark corridors. You lost track of time, trying your best to hide from any Death Eaters roaming the castle along with the screaming students running for their lives.
You thought you had lost everyone when you heard a voice softly call out your name.
You turned around to the sight of Harry running towards you. He was wearing jeans and a hoodie. You felt tears threaten to escape you. You were so glad you found someone you were familiar with amongst all this chaos.
“Harry, what is it?” You asked frantically.
“It’s Voldemort! He and the Death Eaters got into the castle and now they're battling with the Order in the Astronomy Tower!” He answered you just as frantically. He was also out of breath. “Dumbledore told me to run. And then, my parents told me to go and find you.”
“I’m so happy you’re alright.” You hugged Harry just as tightly as he hugged you. “Where are the other students?”
“Fred and George are helping the Prefects make sure everyone else gets to their common rooms.” He said.
“I have to go help your parents and the others!” You suddenly let go of him.
“Dad told me to get you to the Gryffindor common room where he thinks you’ll be safe.” Harry contradicted.
“I told your dad and the rest of the Order that I’m not hiding.” You contradicted him back. “I’m going to help. Are you coming with me?” You took out your wand from inside your boot.
Harry sighed. “Alright, then.”
Seeing as how Harry was almost as short as you, you had no trouble keeping up with each other’s footsteps as you ran through the castle and up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower. The first person whose eyes you caught were James’. He was in a duel with Professor Snape, who if you looked closely, was deflecting James’ attacks at the Death Eaters next to him. You knew Snape was a powerful wizard, so there was no way he’d do this unintentionally. It was strange to you, but you didn’t question it out loud.
“Kids! Get out of here!” James yelled at you and Harry, which made Snape turn his eyes towards you.
“I’m not leaving without a fight!” You yelled back through the sounds of other screaming wizards around you.
“Stop it! This isn’t the time to try to act like a brave little Gryffindor! You’ll only get hurt! Harry, I told you to make sure she gets to the common room with the other students!” James was out of breath as much as Snape was. You were just as thankful as you were confused as to why Snape didn’t try to attack you and Harry.
“No, Dad. She didn’t want to go. And I’m with her!” Harry exclaimed cofindently. “I’m not leaving without a fight either.” You both gave each other a nod.
For the first time since entering the tower, you took a full glance at your surroundings.
Tonks and her parents were fighting against two witches you recognized as Bellatrix Lestrange and her younger sister Narcissa Malfoy, who looked like she didn’t want to be there, with the eldest of the three sisters repeatedly throwing insults at the middle one, along the lines of “blood-traitor” or “mud-blood lover.” If it weren’t for the wands, it would’ve looked like a typical family argument.
You then saw Fleur, Bill, and Charlie try with their combined strengths to fend off the wolfish attacks of Fenrir Greyback, whom you knew as the one responsible for turning Remus into what he had become. If he was no weaker than three grown wizards combined, you’d hate to see what he’d be capable of in his full wolf form.
The two most powerful wizards in the room however, were Dumbledore and Voldemort, who instead of exchanging words and attacks, put all their energy into a clash of light, daring each other to let go and give into the exhaustion.
It was Dumbledore who gave in, as Voldemort’s blast hit him and sent him to the ground. Dumbledore may have been old, but his speed at getting up was rivaled to that of someone your age.
You saw Voldemort whip his head around to find a new target, you and Harry. He shot a non-verbal attack at you, and with you and Harry’s combined strengths, were able to block it.
You saw James let go of his mission of attacking Snape as he turned to the three of you, and before Voldemort could get a look at him, he pushed him to the ground.
“I told you two to get out!” James yelled angrily.
Using the strength of both hands, Voldemort grabbed James by the collar of his shirt, and tugged him off before pulled him up to eye-level.
“James Potter…” He sneered, as James clenched his teeth, keeping eye contact with him. “Just as weak as the day I tried to kill you all those years ago.”
James grabbed his wrist and pried them off of him, but not before spitting in his face.
“You are not scaring me!” He yelled over the sound of Voldemort’s cackling.
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Snape standing all alone, everyone else too distracted by fighting each other to notice him, but not you and Harry.
Snape aimed his wand at Dumbledore, and you heard the spell being used for the first time.
“Avada Kedavra.” He didn’t sound angry, just sad, like he knew he had to do this and was dreading it. You guessed that with all of Malfoy’s failed assassination attempts, Snape decided to take matters into his own hands.
Except it didn’t hit Dumbledore because Lily pushed him back to the ground, making the blast hit her instead.
The entire battle stopped, and everyone put down their wands.
“Lily! No!” James turned his attention to Lily from Voldemort, who looked like a child watching fireworks on New Year’s.
Harry was being held back by Remus from attempting to lung out at Snape and get himself hurt, you assumed. The only things that came out of Harry were tears and a scream, no words.
You heard Bellatrix’s cackle as she was the first Death Eater to fly away from the observation deck, not without a goodbye.
“Until next time, little sister!” Her maniacal laughter faded along with her. Narcissa pushed past her niece as she wordlessly sprinted down the stairs, probably to go find Draco.
After the other Death Eaters flew away, Voldemort disapparated along with his maniacal laughter that was deeper than Bellatrix’s. Snape was the only Death Eater who remained.
It was James who threw a punch at Snape, but all he did was stand there without a word, letting James use him as a punching bag a couple more times.
“I was right about you! You are still the same terrible person I went to school with! Lily tried convincing me you’ve changed! She was your friend! I can’t believe she ever chose to be your friend! You never deserved her in your life! You will never be worthy enough to have someone like her in your life!” With each sentence that ripped out of him, James’ punches towards Snape became more potent until there was a faint line of blood coming out of his mouth.
“Fight back, you coward!” Was the last thing James yelled before letting his fist drop to look at the forming bruises on his knuckles.
Dumbledore was silent as he came over to James, and put an arm around the crying man’s shoulders.
He gently pulled him away, and whispered, “I’ll apparate her body back to Godric’s Hollow. Make sure you and the others regroup at your home. I’ll meet you there.”
James held his head up, revealing his tears to everyone. He nodded at Dumbledore’s order.
There were bouquets of Lilies everywhere in James’ living room. The number of flowers had greatly outnumbered the people. He couldn’t have known that during the moment Lily was talking about her first train ride to Hogwarts, it would also be her last train ride to Hogwarts. It was like a twisted circle of life, is how James saw it.
Then there was you and Harry. You had lost two parents, gained multiple parental figures, and lost one of them in the span of a year. Harry had never seen someone die before, and it was even worse that the first death he witnessed was his own mother.
He saw you and Harry sitting on the couch together. Your arm was around his shoulder, and he was sobbing his heart out. People used to tell James that boys don’t cry and they should feel shame for showing such a vulnerable emotion in public, but at that moment, James felt proud of his son for having the courage to show his emotions in public, and proud of you for being a good supportive friend to his son.
The rest of the wake went by in a blur, the only other vivid thing James remembered being Dumbledore giving a small speech about Lily’s life before inviting whomever to give their own speeches about her.
This was the last day James would be in close proximity with you for a very long time.
Life went on, but you never stopped thinking about James. After saving up your money, Sirius helped you find a flat in London while Arthur was finally convinced to arrange for you to begin your training as an Auror under the mentorship of Kingsley Shacklebolt. Being as busy as you were, you stopped showing up to the Order meetings even though you received every invitation Arthur had sent you.
Although you were new in the Ministry, Kingsley still held you to the same standards and expectations as he did with the older employees. That only made you more eager to prove yourself which led to you being satisfied with the outcome of your hard work.
That didn’t mean you were any less grateful for the Potters, Weasleys, Sirius, and other members of the Order for helping to shape you into who you had become. You would never stop being grateful towards Lily for everything she had done for you over the past year you’d known each other. You felt that your gratefulness towards Lily and the sadness you felt for her death made you even more guilty of still having that same attraction you had towards James.
You still thought about him every night before you went to bed. Every time you thought about your memories with him while you were in bed, you would experience a dull ache between your thighs that didn’t go away unless you used your fingers, your hairbrush, or even your pillow to rub in that specific spot to relieve it.
Still wearing your camisole and your panties, you tried to drift off to sleep, but once again, your mind imagined that instead of you being by yourself, that James was next to you. It was summer which meant it was way too hot for you to put a blanket over yourself.
Your head started to feel hazy as your fingers traced over your lips, imagining a kiss with James. The knuckles of your other hand found themselves brushing from the back of your ear to your neck, where you remembered James had brushed a strand of your hair behind it during that training session.
There was no denying that jolt of pleasure that ran through you for a split second as his finger accidentally grazed along the seam of your shorts that covered your pussy. As if having your pussy lips being touched wasn’t enough, you had even felt the pressure of his finger on the sensitive little nub just above it. Just imagining his fingers being there again made that ache between your thighs burn even more.
You let your fingertips trail from your lips to your neck before going over the hardened peak of one of your nipples. You gasped at the pleasurable sensation you brought onto yourself. You continued to softly rub your finger over your nipple, then squeezing your breast, alternating between the two actions. The fingers of your other hand then went over the goosebumps covering your stomach before tracing over the lace trim of your panties. Your fingers were so close to circling over your clit and your inner lips which were so swollen from all the blood rushing to them that just the lightest pressure of anything against the thin material covering them would make you explode.
“Well, aren’t you a filthy little girl.” You suddenly heard a deep voice from the corner of the room, and you could see the shiny outline of a pair of glasses. You felt your cheeks reddening as you pulled your fingers away from yourself, embarrassed at being caught in such a private moment.
“James?” You gasped, sitting up, your hair falling to your face.
“You were thinking about me weren’t you?” His features started to morph into clarity.
“How…?” The next thing you knew, you looked down, and your camisole and panties were gone as you were laying down on your bed without anything to cover you.
You tried to move your limbs, but it was as if there was an invisible rope binding them onto your mattress. You looked up, and gasped to see James also wasn’t wearing anything either. He had taken his position in front of your bed, standing in front of it, and he was stroking himself. You were mesmerized by the way his hand slid up and down his hard shaft and the grunts that would come out of his mouth at every other stroke.
“Oh, James. I want your delicious cock! I can’t stop thinking about you!”
You were unable to control your mouth as you found yourself moaning those sentences out loud. You gasped, feeling mortified.
“Aww…” James frowned, feigning empathy. “You poor little slut. You couldn’t help yourself could you? Having all these filthy thoughts about me while I was married. You were a good girl, holding yourself back. But now you feel free don’t you? Free to take me? You’re ready to be a little slut.”
“Please! I’m sorry!” You couldn’t believe he would insinuate something like that. You had not once dared to feel happy about Lily’s death and claim James all for yourself. You would’ve hurt your friendship with Harry, and you would’ve been guilty of feeling like you were replacing his mother.
“You’ve been such a good little girl. Don’t you just want to give in?” James brushed his thumb over your bottom lip. It was as if there was something controlling you, making you unable to resist sucking on his thumb.
You looked into his eyes as he was smirking. He pulled out his thumb with a plop.
“I promise you, it’ll feel really good.” You shivered as he caressed your cheek. “I know that I’m hungry to feast on that delicious looking pussy you’re showing me.”
“Make me feel good, James!” You screamed, and you felt his warm tongue slide up along your inner lips before taking one of them in his mouth and sucking on it.
You released a loud moan that was straight out of those Muggle porno films you had found stashed in Sirius’ home that you watched without his knowledge.
His lips let go of your pussy before he moved onto your face. There, you found yourselves with your lips locked onto each other’s.
You didn’t understand what was happening as you felt like James’ lips were on every sensitive area of your body when his face was right in front of you. You felt a warm, wet sucking sensation on both of your nipples, making you arch your back and moan into his mouth.
Before you knew it, you felt his cock probing at your entrance. You stayed in your position, panting and moaning around him, overwhelmed and drunk on the pleasure he was feeding you. There was tension that started to build inside your core which began to build more and more pressure inside of you.
You were about to scream as you opened your eyes and were greeted by the sight of your bedroom which was empty of anybody else besides you. You were left with disappointment at the orgasm that died down inside of you with your waking breath.
You gasped at the familiar ache between your thighs accompanied by a warm wetness inside your panties.
If you couldn’t finish the job in your dream, you could at least do yourself a favor by doing whatever you could do to pleasure yourself.
You pushed the feeling of guilt that had come up in your dream to the back of your mind while your fingers found their way inside your panties.
You were so wet from your dream last night that it was easy for your finger to frantically slide up, down, and between your inner lips. You felt a wave of pleasure crash over you immediately as your middle finger applied the right amount of pressure on your clit while rubbing it. You came inside your panties while moaning and screaming James’ name.
As fast as your orgasm wore off, guilt took the place of pleasure. Tears started to form in your eyes at the realization of what you had done. Maybe you were the filthy slut that James from your dreams said you were.
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♥️MCYT as Types of Munches♥️
Idk if some of these things need to have a warning, but better safe than sorry
Warnings: face sitting, power play kinda maybe, cum eating whoops, overstimulation, crying if you squint, body worship a lil, mention of alcohol/addiction?, sexual torture kinda?, mention of restraints, restraint if you squint
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The MCYTs as different types of munches.
Dream-Torturous
Dream is an ass. He loves eating you out, he really does and he makes sure to tell you that, however its like a weapon. And don’t get me wrong there’s some days where he’s very sweet and doesn’t over do it, really just wanting to savor your taste, but most days it almost feels like a threat when he offers to eat you out (in a good way). He’s feral, once he starts it’s like he can’t stop until you physically can’t take it anymore, crying, squirting, shaking and aching. No matter how tight you squeeze his head with your thighs, he can’t help keep going, only stopping if you tap out. Literally. Like in wrestling when you’re put into a choke hold and you have to tap the ground or the persons arm, that’s exactly what you have to do with him. He refuses to have you restrained in any way when he eats you out for that very reason. But god, the orgasms and highs he pulls out of you are worth every ache and pain you wake up with the next morning.
Sapnap-Encouragement
Everyone has this idea that Sapnap is in love with face sitting, and I’m sure he is, but there’s something he loves more, which contributes to why he loves face sitting: Encouragement. He loves eating you out making you cum over and over again until you can’t handle it, just so he can tell you that “you’ve got this, just one more baby”. That’s half of why he loves face sitting, his encouragements have a bigger effect. He tells you to grind down on his tongue, and that you have all the power to make yourself cum. Because of your need, obviously you do; however once you try to pull away is when he wraps his arms around your thighs, pinning you to his mouth as he pulls a second, third and fourth orgasm out of you from his tongue.
Georgenotfound-Adoration
George doesn’t have the highest sex drive, so eating you out isn’t regular, but it is a must when you do have sex. He spends more time with his mouth between your legs than his hips, especially after making you cum. He has a thing for that- eating you out right after making you cum so he can taste all you have to offer. As much as that sounds like it’s a power thing, where he wants to overstimulate you, it’s not. It’s an adoration thing. Although he is rough at times and more dominant, his genuine emotional attraction to you over rides anything else. Wanting to taste everything you have to offer is part of him memorizing your body, worshiping it and adoring every drop of you. He wants to remember that taste forever, he wants to remember the way your legs quiver and the way your eyes gloss, he wants to know you better than anyone else, and that includes the way you taste.
Punz-Compersion
Eating you out is the equivalent to a quickie with Punz, except it’s never quick when he has time. If on the off chance either of you are needy and you don’t have the time for him to fully ruin you, he would be perfectly content with just eating you out and waiting until later to get any pleasure for himself. Eating you out brings him genuine pleasure, mostly from the sounds you make. However, if he has the time to indulge himself, you can bet your ass that he’s spending no less than an hour with his head between your legs. He’s an ass about it, teasing you and calling you filthy names all the while laughing when you whine, but you can see through it easily, seeing the ways his eyelids flutter close when he sucks on your clit and feeling the slight sigh of relief against your cunt when he finally gets to taste you after a long day. Yeah, he’ll act all tough and cocky, but you know he gets off on it just as much as you do.
Karl Jacobs-Service
I think you all have a general idea of what I’m going to say about him. Everyone has this idea that Karl is incredibly submissive, however I prefer to think the opposite, but the reasoning for that is for another time. Keeping that in mind, i imagine karl being more of a service dom, wanting to pleasure you being his main priority, his pleasure being secondary. He likes eating you out for fun, without any expectation of having sex or the favor being returned. Half the times he’s not even horny when he asks to, he just has an urge to make you feel good, and him getting turned on by your little whines is just a by-product. Absolutely walks up behind you while your cooking, kneels behind you to eat you out, makes you cum on his tongue, cleans you up, and smacks your ass on his way out of the room to handle his hard-on on his own.
Awesamdude- Sweet
Sam is a big guy, I feel like that’s a pretty well known fact. Muscular, tall, and over all just big. Despite his physically strong and hard appearance, his approach on eating you out is much softer than you’d expect- at first, anyways. He’d be extra gentle, kissing all over your thighs and going extra slow until your begging for him to go faster or do more. Of course since you asked so nicely he would, but only enough to make you stop begging. This man loves your thighs tucked tightly around his head, but he loves your sweet sounds more, wanting to draw out as many as possible, so his hands would be tucked under your knees with them pushed up to your chest so he could have full range and control. He’s absolutely in love with making you feel good, and seeing your face and chest flushed red with embarrassment as you cum would only motivate him to keep going. The sweetest guy really, just wanting you to feel good and be the reason you do.
Foolish- Pussy-Drunk
Foolish has learned that eating you out is the equivalent of having alcohol hooked to his arm via IV. The combination of seeing you completely loose yourself because of his tongue alone, and the distinct taste of your arousal that he is so fond of makes it addicting. No matter how you taste, knowing that it is you, that he’s tasting your arousal, knowing he’s tasting you is enough to make him love it. It lights a fire in him he can’t quite explain, maybe it’s a power rush for being able to do so much to you by doing so little, or it’s an urge to service you and give you exactly what you want, because who could say no to someone who looks so precious with their legs shaking around his head? He’d absolutely end up moaning on your cunt, one hand jerking himself off while the other held your hip gently. You’re addictive, that’s just all there is to it.
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vettelsdarling · 11 months
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Ive seen alot of quote requests and I rly want a Leclerc x fem reader smut where they start out as enemies (example is like Ferrari and Mercedes or Ferrari and Redbull) pls and include these two quotes
“Youre so full of shit Ferrari boy”
“but you keep coming back”
Id be rly grateful if u could write this haha
Touch my rear wing, I dare you
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➪I like the idea! Hope you enjoy what I came up with :)
➪(I’m assuming you mean Charles and not Arthur btw)
➪Also, this both follows and doesn't really follow a specific timeline. I’m just using my creative freedom for this. Some people are cut out of the story because of the reader insert!
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Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Fem!Driver!Reader
Warnings: (18+ content) smut, oral (both receiving), swearing
Word count: 5.6k+
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Backstory
You had always loved racing. Your father was a retired Formula 1 driver and had always taught you and your brother the basics of it. You used to go watch him speed around for Ferrari, which shaped your dream to become just like him. Your brother and yourself were both determined to make it as great drivers. Your mother was a stay-at-home mom with a lot of time on her hands. Therefore, convincing her to take you and your brother karting was no big feat. Especially seeing as your father was a driver himself.
You rose through the ranks faster than your brother, despite having started later than him. Your mother was hesitant to let you race at first, but eventually allowed it. You were called a star and a prodigy. Seeing as you were the only girl there, it made sense. Especially because you hit every apex just right and your overtakes were near-perfect every time.
After karting, you moved further up the ranks, eventually being crowned regional champion in Formula 3 (regional) and moving on to Formula 3.
It was there you met him; Charles Leclerc. He was the only one who seemed to be faster than you. Not only that but the idea of it had gotten to his head. You never actually spoke to him, but you'd see a smirk creep up on his face once in a while after beating you. You wanted nothing more than to wipe it off with the sole of your shoe. You weren't superstitious, but there was sure to be karma coming his way sooner or later.
Luckily that karma came in the form of one George Russel and one Alex Albon. The two of them were just as competitive as you and Charles, eventually making the four of you gain a lot of attraction in the media. You were great friends with George. He always showed a tremendous amount of sportsmanship towards you. One time, he even helped you by letting you pass him, having you win the race. All the whilst Charles was left in the dust. You relished in it.
When Formula 2 came around, you were stuck, yet again, with Charles. That was also when you had your first real interaction. He went up to you before the last race and struck up a rather puzzling conversation. Puzzling in the sense that you had no idea why he was talking to you, or why he even wanted to.
“Hey, you're not a bad driver, but I would suggest you try to maybe stop sulking. People notice.” Infuriating. Absolutely infuriating.
“Maybe you should check up on that girlfriend of yours. I don't think she's into assholes. Maybe stop being one.” Even though you were in your own garage, you walked away. You couldn't stand being in his presence for a moment longer.
You were unlucky because Charles beat you and moved on to Formula 1 before you. You and he had been tied for the championship, but somehow he found his way around to beat you. It was then you realized you had to do something— anything to get into Formula 1.
Your luck seemed to only build after Charles left Formula 2, and you easily won the following championship, signing a deal with Alfa Romeo, which, to your surprise, was the worst thing to ever happen to you.
You'd somehow managed to place yourself in the same team as Charles, making him the only thing you couldn't destroy on the grid. You had to be a fair teammate to even be considered by your dream team, Red Bull. You'd seen Sebastian Vettel in his glory days, and you wanted the same for yourself. However, being in Formula 1 proved to be much harder than 2. You didn't really know what you had expected, because so many stars were competing for the championship.
It wasn't all that bad, though, because he never really said much and the two of you were somehow able to make it work. It was mainly due to the pressure of having to look good. You knew about the media and their swirling rumours. Many speculated that you were Charles’ side piece. It didn't matter to you, as long as you knew just how far from the truth that was.
After the 2018 season, you somehow managed to sign yourself with Red Bull for 2019, driving alongside Max Verstappen. He went on to become your best friend on the grid, as nobody really liked Red Bull and you had to stick together. Sebastian Vettel became a “father figure”, following the death of your father earlier in 2018. It hit you harder than any barrier had ever hit you, but you were able to get through it with the help of Vettel.
It was in 2019, that you finally started rising to the top and watching Charles start to lag behind. The feeling of watching him struggle was like a euphoric punch. Nothing made you happier. You and Max were a powerhouse of a team. He helped you, you helped him. He was more than happy with it, and so were you.
Everything led up to the 2022 season, where you started casually hooking up with none other than Charles Leclerc. It started at a party that Lando threw after the 2021 season had ended.
-Flashback-
You were dancing out on the floor. Your dress barely covered your assets and you'd had more shots than you could count on your fingers. Completely wasted. That's what you were. What made matters worse was that you continued to do increasingly risky things like doing a handstand, which almost made your dress pull down with gravity. Everyone seemed to cheer you on, as they were just as drunk as you, if not more. Well, all but one. Charles lurked in the corner of the room. He didn't drink. You weren't sure why, nor did you care. But his eyes had been on you all night. The increasingly provocative behaviours you exhibited fueled something carnal within himself. Something he wasn't so sure he could control. He hated you, but at the same time… he hated the thought of someone getting their hands on you. He couldn't understand his line of reasoning. He didn't even think he had one.
The line was crossed when you came down to do a split on the floor, which ripped your dress; putting your panties on full display. Nobody but Charles paid attention to the severity of the move, so he pushed through the crowd and picked you up like you were nothing. He wasn't in control anymore. His brain had just switched to auto-pilot. Nobody realized he took you. Nobody realized the two of you were gone.
The next morning, you found yourself in a fluffy white bed, which horrified you. Your sheets were deep green and silk. Nothing like the bed you were lying in. On top of that, your clothes were gone and you were lying in your underwear. Groggy, you pulled yourself up and realized you were alone. Next to you was a bedtable with a glass of orange juice with a pill next to it. There was a card too and it was addressed to you.
“I bet you had a nice time last night. I had to leave early for a meeting, but I left you some things for your hangover. Call me if you need anything and leave whenever you want to.
– Charles”
You were beyond shocked. You were at a loss for words. Had you really slept with Charles? Charles Leclerc? The one person you hated on the grid? You could barely believe the two of you had a friendly interaction, let alone slept together. You quickly chugged the juice with the pill and got out of bed. You couldn't find your dress anywhere, so you decided to go find Charles’ closet. Everything was too big for you, but after some digging, you found a shirt and a pair of pants that you were able to adjust to your own size. You didn't care about your messy hair. You just had to get out of that house. When trying to remember what had happened the night before, you only added to the already existing headache. The conclusion then was; you slept with Charles after getting drunk and you would never ever tell a soul or do it again.
You debated whether to ask Max to come and get you, or call an Uber. You knew Max would pick you up and not ask questions… well if it didn’t involve Charles. You ended up paying for an Uber to not let the secret spill. Max was a trusted friend but you didn’t even want him to know. Vettel would likely just give you any advice a dad usually would, which was why you decided not to bother him either. Besides, everyone would probably be too hungover to care about anyone and anything but their bowel movements.
“Miss, where to?” Asked the driver. You told him the address and he started driving. Unlike other Ubers you’d taken before, this guy was chatty. He told you about his dog, a golden retriever that he named Lila. He talked about everything and nothing at the same time. You had to be careful not to accidentally tune his talking out like white noise.
After a while, you were finally dropped off and you were left alone to soak in the painful false memory of sleeping with Charles.
- End of flashback-
*Still not present. First race of the 2022 season
You walked around your car, gliding your hand around it, feeling the smooth metal against your gloves. That’s when your peace was disturbed by a voice you hated all too much.
“Are you ready for 22?” You turned your head to see Charles with a smug look on his face. You hadn’t seen him or heard from him since the day you walked out of his apartment. It was simply too embarrassing for you.
“Don’t talk to me. Go bother someone else,” you huffed. Max was talking to Horner in the back of the garage. You had nobody to save you from having to talk to Charles.
“After the night we had? I don’t think so,” he said whilst walking closer and almost touching your rear wing.
“Touch my rear wing, I dare you.” The two of you shared a brief look after you said that. Charles then took the liberty of walking closer to you.
“You know what? I have a bet. If I win this race, you come home with me. I just want to talk, okay? If you win… you can ignore me and treat me like trash. Deal?” You contemplated for a while but realized it was in his favour.
“Hey, that’s not fair. I don’t want to go with you and I certainly don’t want the Bahrain curse looming over my head. What kind of deal is this?” You spat. He only seemed to be amused by that.
“Slipped my mind. Okay, then let’s do it like this; whoever places the highest— wins.” You immediately shook his hand harshly and started prepping for the race.
You ended up in P2 with Charles taking the risk of the Bahrain curse. You couldn’t wrap your head around why he would risk the championship just to sit and talk with you. It didn’t make any sense. You didn’t want to talk about that night. Why would he want to? It wasn’t like the outcome ended in a pregnancy. There was nothing to talk about.
After the race, an interviewer came up to you after having talked to Charles.
“—And hello, P2! You were amazing out there! Even avoiding pole position! How do you feel?” You felt like you’d lost everything. It was miserable. You hated losing in races, but you certainly also hated losing bets.
“I mean, I feel great! I was able to stay on top; and to me, it still feels like a 1-2 for Red Bull.” You lied straight through your teeth. It was a strike of sheer luck that you were born with such an amazing PR ability.
“Charles said that you might be upset for placing behind him, care to comment?” You looked at the interviewer with a puzzled look on your face.
“Uhhh, I’m not sure what that’s about. Maybe he doesn’t know about the Bahrain curse?” You chuckled and quickly tried to make your way away from her. She waved and you waved back with a short smile.
Upon arriving at the Red Bull motorhome, you saw Max sitting on a couch with Kelly. He looked satisfied with the win for Red Bull.
“Hey, congrats on P2. Max was telling me about it,” said Kelly. You never really liked Kelly all that much, but she was nice to Max so you didn’t bother her. Penelope, her daughter, was cute and you’d sometimes offer to babysit her for them.
“Yeah, it was a nice race.” You grabbed a juice box from the fridge and let yourself slump down in a chair.
“Why do you look so defeated? This is basically a 1-2 for us.” Max and Kelly made sure to look concerned. You didn’t want to talk about it, nor did you want to think about it. You had to meet up with Charles anyway, so you decided to give a short and vague response, before leaving,
“I guess I’m just tired. I have to go now, actually.”
You waited by Charles’ car, knowing that the paparazzi were taking pictures of you doing so. You tried your best to remain anonymous though, wearing a thick hoodie with no print along with a cap, sunglasses, and a mask. Your hair was tucked inside the hood of the hoodie. Nobody could really tell who you were, but they’d certainly speculate.
“You look like a serial killer; waiting by my car with that outfit,” said a voice coming up behind you. You saw the many fans screaming and the paparazzi wanting statements. Charles ignored them and opened the door for you. Still not wanting to actually converse with him, you decided to sit in the backseat instead. The Ferrari driver rolled his eyes, sighed, shut the shotgun seat door and got in himself. You were not going to sit next to him. You knew that only bad things would come of it.
“So, I’m your taxi driver now? Why didn’t you just get in when I opened the door for you?” He sounded a bit pissy and it was in all honesty pretty entertaining to sit and ignore.
“Hmm. Okay. So you’re only talking when it’s absolutely necessary?” You ignored him yet again. It was a mystery how the drunk version of you got to talking with him— even going as far as sleeping with him. Ever since that night, you’d had dreams about it. You believed they were fragments of memories coming back to you. It was haunting to relive. All those dreams about him; about Charles, they were just like any adult movie you’d seen before. It was embarrassingly detailed.
Luckily, the awkward car ride was short. The two of you arrived at his hotel and quickly got inside. The fact that the two of you were going to be alone in his suite was daunting to you.
“Make yourself at home, I’ll get you something to drink.” You took off your sunglasses, cap, and mask, and sat by the table in the room. Charles served your drinks before sitting across from you. It was like a fever dream; being in a hotel suite with your one true rival.
“I know you might not want to talk about what happened four months ago… but I think we should,” Charles began. You dreaded the atmosphere. It felt heavy. Too heavy.
“Look, I have dreams about what happened and I just— I don’t really know what to say,” you shot in before he could say anything else.
“You remember? I didn’t think you would. You were so drunk, you know?”
“I remember alright. I’ve dreamt about that night so many times now, I think I’m going to go crazy soon.” You buried your face in your hands whilst sighing.
“Yeah… I think I would be embarrassed too…” you looked up in confusion.
“Embarrassed…? I know we’re not exactly mates, but embarrassing?” At the very least, he could’ve tried to be more sympathetic. You’d been extremely drunk that night.
“Yeah, you were so loud. I got complaints from my neighbours.” Mortifying. Absolutely mortifying. He wasn’t talking about your body. He was talking about your moaning. You weren’t sure how you’d recover from that one.
“Shit… but you were technically also a part of it. You’re making it sound like it’s all me.” You scowled at him.
“How was I a part of that?”
“Well, for starters, you’re the one who fucked me. I told you. I keep dreaming that… so much of it… I want to throw up.” It was probably a bad idea to have admitted that, but you didn’t want to lose the dispute.
“Fucked? You think we fucked?” He sounded genuinely surprised. His face also matched the tone of his voice, with his eyes wide open.
“Yeah, against the headboard… as I remember it, we went at it hard. On top of that, I was drunk… so can you blame me for being loud?” His shocked face suddenly melted into a smirk and his signature smug face after rubbing a victory in yours.
“So you’re telling me… you’ve dreamt about me taking you against the headboard in my apartment? Going at it hard?” Was he toying with you? You couldn’t tell.
“You know… that’s not what happened. You were so drunk I had to take you to my apartment. You were yelling and crying the entire time for some reason. I had to change you out of your dress because you threw up on it and you also threw up on the floor. You passed out minutes after you did so…” when you came to that realization, you were beyond embarrassed. The most embarrassing thing was the dreams that you admitted to having. Dreams that weren’t actual memories, but just your imagination. Did you want to fuck him? Was that it? You couldn’t bring yourself to think about it,
“If I’m correct… you were having wet dreams about… me?” You didn’t answer him. You simply got up from your seat and made your way to the front door. You had to leave. However, before you could open it, Charles pinned you to it, trapping you between his arms.
“What are you doing, Leclerc?” You looked at him with doe eyes. His breathing was ragged and you could tell he had some bad intentions.
“I have a new deal to make. For the rest of the calendar, let’s have it this way: whoever places highest wins.” He took a moment to breathe and stare into your eyes somewhat intensely.
“What about the winner?” You asked. The air felt hot and heavy. A knee was pushed between your legs.
“The winner…” he hesitated,
“The winner decides whether to fuck or not.” You gulped at his words and saw the look in his eyes.
“Deal.” The rest was history.
*Present time
It was the last race of the season and you were more than happy to finally take a well-deserved break. You had placed podium plenty of times and won against Leclerc more times than you could remember. The arrangement the two of you had set up was flawed, however. You both knew it was a bad excuse to hook up with each other, as neither of you ever chose to not fuck.
“Fuck, we need to bring this one home. If you win this, you’re the champion! First ever female champion and it’s for our team! Go out there and drive like your life depends on it, yeah?” Horner’s pep talks always got you into your racing mindset. He was the only person besides Max who was really able to lift your spirits like that.
“I’ll be there to fend off anyone threatening your pole,” said Max, who was getting ready to step in. You smiled and went in for a tight hug,
“Thanks, Max. Let’s bring it home for Red Bull!” The two of you got into your positions with your cars. The lineup was in your favour, as you’d placed pole in the qualifying session. Max was in P4, but you knew he’d have no problem working his way right behind you.
As soon as the race started, you sped off. It was smooth, and you worked most apexes just right. The radio sounded and told you that Max was right behind you, which put your mind at ease. You had nothing to be worried about as long as Max was on defense.
“So uh, Max just took out Sainz along with himself. It’s all up to you now. Leclerc is a little under half a second behind you. Your heart sank. Not just because of Max’s sacrifice, but also because Leclerc was behind you. He had the power to snatch the championship from you and graciously hand it over to another driver. You couldn’t have that happen. You simply couldn’t. You didn’t want to let Horner down, and you couldn’t bear to live with letting Max down after his takedown.
“Fuck, okay. I’ll fend him off as much as possible. We’re in the homestretch anyway, right?”
“Yes, just 5 more laps to go.” You gave it your all. You saw red. Everything was just about winning and keeping the Ferrari car behind you.
In the end, you won, but you actually couldn’t understand how. Even though you gave it your all, you did have tiny lapses of moments where Leclerc could’ve snuck in and gone for the win… but for some reason, he didn’t.
You were met with tight hugs and huge roars from fans. Max immediately lifted you up into the air and brought Christian over to do a group hug. Your interview was breezy and you felt like you’d won at life. All throughout listening to your national anthem and spraying champagne on your fellow drivers, you couldn’t help but think about Charles and why in the world he let you win.
You met up with Charles after everything. You decided to go straight to the Ferrari motorhome. There he was. In all his glory. He was scrolling through his phone, presumably checking his emails and his socials.
“Hey, uh, Charles… could we talk for a minute?” You asked. The look he gave you when he noticed was unreadable. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking or feeling. He followed you outside and to a more secluded area where you were sure nobody would be able to hear you.
“You let me win,” you began.
“I didn’t. All I did was—“
“Shut up, okay? I know you did. I just… I want to know why,” you sighed and put a hand on your hip.
“I think you deserved the win. That’s all,” he smiled and crossed his arms.
“You’re so full of shit, Ferrari boy,” you spat and looked away. There wasn’t much around you, but a brick wall and a fence. Nobody would be able to spot you with Charles. The last thing you wanted was for the media to think the two of you were fraternizing.
“—But you keep coming back,” he replied. You slowly turned your head, only to be shoved into the wall behind you. The brunette had both of your arms locked by his hands. There was no escape for you. You had to confront whatever the two of you had been running around doing for the past season.
“Tell me, why is it such a bad thing for us to just fuck and actually feel things for each other?” He whispered. You wanted to deny it. You wanted to deny everything. He was foul, he was rude, he was reckless, but he was yours… he’d always been yours. Ever since he broke up with Giatti, the two of you had an eerie air around each other. One that couldn’t be explained with your past. One that made your heart beat faster.
“You remember the dreams you had about Lando’s party? That was all you. You must’ve felt something for me to have dreamt something like that,” he continued. Oh gosh, the dreams. He just had to bring up the dreams. You knew, however, that he wasn’t entirely wrong. Your stomach would churn with butterflies whenever you thought back to your dreams.
“Screw just fucking. Why shouldn’t we date? Tell me why we can’t be with each other.” He looked directly into your eyes, desperately searching for an answer.
“I… I just can’t— I mean I… I hate you,” you said,
“I fucking hate you, Charles!” He started backing off, and you started cornering him against the fence behind him.
“I hate how you make me feel all of these things I’m not supposed to feel!” You calmed down, and once again, were shoved against the wall.
“Tell me all about how I make you feel. My place or yours?”
“Yours… my room is further than yours,” you said whilst avoiding eye contact.
Charles immediately took you to his hotel suite. It was right next to Hamilton’s. As soon as the door opened— you threw your arms around his neck and he told you to jump into his arms. Your legs were wrapped around his waist and the two of you made out feverishly. There was no time to bring it to the bedroom. The two of you were used to doing it in all sorts of places. The Ferrari driver placed you on a counter and you started stripping each other. He was impressed by your effort to wear matching lace underwear. Whenever you did so, you always claimed it was for yourself, but he liked to beg to differ.
“Fuck, tell me.” Charles was buried in your neck, you couldn’t make yourself answer.
“Tell me how I make you feel,” he gasped before going in again.
“Good… you make me feel so good,” you sighed. His lips latched onto every part of your neck that made you feel like royalty.
“You know what I mean, baby. Tell me how I make you feel.” his demanding voice was enough to make you pant harder.
“You make my… My heart beat faster,” you moaned.
“—And?”
“I feel fuzzy around you.” He loved hearing your declarations of love, so much that he couldn't take the slow pace anymore.
In a flash, he grabbed you by the hips and helped you to the floor on your knees.
“God, you're divine. Can you be a good girl and suck?” you stared at him as you removed his boxers, letting his dick spring free. It twitched in appreciation for your touch. You traced your fingers against a particularly prominent vein and heard his sounds of pleasure. He groaned and bucked his hips, needing your mouth. You met his wishes; starting by licking from the bottom to the tip. When you wrapped your lips around him, he tangled his fingers in your hair and started bobbing your head on his cock. You couldn't take all of him, but he pressed on, making you gag.
“You take me so well,“ Charles sighed, throwing his head back. With the help of his hand in your hair, you went faster, feeling his tip touch the back of your throat with every bop of your head. He seethed through his teeth and after a few minutes, you could tell he was getting close. He was grunting like crazy and pulling your hair as if his life depended on it. God, when he looked at you— he almost came. Tears stained your face and your mascara was running.
“Fuck, baby, I can't hold it anymore,“ he moaned and rammed into your face a final time, releasing his cum down your throat. You swallowed everything. He was breathless and so were you, but even so— he still had more stamina left. Stamina that he needed to use up.
“I want to taste you.“ He sat you on the counter again, before roughly spreading your legs. His fingertips teased you, grazing your inner thighs; getting closer and closer to your cunt.
“Hurry, I need you,“ you sighed and grabbed his hair.
“Beg.“
“What?“
“I said to beg for it.“ The Ferrari driver had a lustful gaze and his eyes were filled with a certain need. The insatiable hunger for you.
“Please?”
“Not good enough.”
“Please, Charles.”
“Tell me what you want.”
“Please… Eat me out, Leclerc.”
“Good girl,” he said before diving in. With a thumb flicking your clit, he began sucking, his tongue messaged your folds in an unreal way. He slurped as if he hadn't eaten in days and you were his salvation.
“Oh fuck, Charles!” You couldn't help but squeeze his head between your thighs. With one hand, he clenched your thigh tightly, continuing to suck you for all you were worth.
Your moans and gasps motivated him to go faster and thrust his tongue deeper into you. Your vision was blurry with pleasure. He was too good, and you couldn't take it for much longer.
“I'm going to cum,” you half-screamed and pulled him closer. He pulled away for a quick second to get a word in,
“Cum on my tongue, baby. Give it to me,” his words mixed with the pleasure of his tongue pushed you over the edge, and you found yourself releasing all over his mouth. He licked you clean afterwards and cleaned his face with a kitchen towel.
Whilst he was walking back to you, you noticed his dick being fully erect again. How that was possible, was beyond you. Apparently, he saw you staring; because he chuckled before trapping you in a delicious kiss. You tasted a bit of yourself on his tongue. It was so erotic, you couldn't fathom it.
“You taste like heaven, babydoll,” Charles whispered. You wrapped your arms around his neck.
“I'm going in. You're still on the pill, right?” He asked before doing anything. You nodded swiftly and bucked your hips desperately.
“Please, Charles.”
“Please what?“
“Please fuck me stupid, Charles” He was caught off-guard by your bold response. It flipped a switch in him that made him go rogue. You were immediately swept off the counter and bent over it instead. He pinned your hands above your head and rubbed your cunt before stroking himself a few times, and then entering slowly.
“Oh fuck, you're so tight.” You heard him groan. When he reached as far as he could with your current position, you arched your back to help him reach deeper. He rested to let you get used to him. You'd had sex more times than you could count, but somehow, you were always tight. This time wasn't any different.
After a few moments, you told him to move; which he did. He almost pulled all the way out, leaving just the tip in. From there, he slammed into you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your back arched like a cat.
“Fuck!” You couldn't help but scream out. The stretch was beyond amazing. He was doing you just right. With every moan and every call of his name, he gained more confidence. The confidence fed him the energy and stamina to go even faster and harder.
You were an utter mess. Your hair stuck to your forehead due to the amount of sweat that clung to it. You were seeing stars and it felt like you were choking. You repeatedly screamed out his name like a holy mantra. It was unreal.
“Scream my name louder, sugar. Let the entire hotel know who you belong to!” You obliged. Your screams got louder and his thrusts— wilder. You felt your legs going numb, so Charles lifted one and it helped him reach even deeper than before. His hips rutted directly against yours at that point. It was heaven on earth.
“Fuck, I'm so close!” You finally yelled.
“Cum with me, okay?”
You went at it like rabbits for a few more minutes before you felt your knot begin to undo itself. Leclerc’s thrusts became more and more sloppy. It didn't take long before you came all over his dick, which pushed him to fill you to the brim. The mixture of your essence and his dripped down your thighs. You couldn't move. You couldn't feel your legs.
“Let's take a shower and go take a rest.” He lifted you from the counter and swung you over his shoulder, walking into the shower. When he turned it on, you felt the hot drops of water rain down on your skin. He helped clean you, as you couldn't stand on your own.
“I'm sorry if I was too rough,” He said whilst scrubbing your back.
“No, I'm fine. This was amazing, Ferrari boy.” He chuckled at your nickname.
After showering, the two of you headed straight to his bed. You cuddled into him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. Your legs were entangled with his and his arm was wrapped around you, pulling you almost fully onto himself.
“Did you mean it? Do you really have feelings for me?” He asked, looking at the ceiling.
“Did you let me win?” You asked.
”... Yes, I did,” he replied sheepishly.
“Then you have your answer.” With that, you found it hard to stay awake for a second longer; passing out whilst hearing the sound of his heart beating to yours.
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𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻...
𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!
𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩
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©vettelsdarling
𝗣𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗱𝗮𝗽𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘆, 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲, 𝗼𝗿 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺— 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻.
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cutielando · 6 months
Text
the british dust ~ george russell
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Summary: The British dust that looms around the attractive British racer affects even the people who don't believe in it.
Words: 901
Other works: my masterlist
♡♡♡♡♡
Everyone says that British men have a special aura around them. Some might even say there is a thing called 'the British dust'.
You thought it was bullshit.
You never understood the hype around the British men. They were humans just like everyone else, but every single person you came across was of the opinion that they had something special.
Again, you thought that was absolute crap.
Until you met George freaking Russell.
♡♡♡♡♡
Getting a job in F1 has been your dream ever since you could remember. 
Your father had always been a fan of racing, watching them every single weekend and even attending a couple of Grands Prix over the years.
When you got a bit older, you started taking an interest in the sport, your father proving to be one hell of a coach who taught you everything there was to know about the sport, the teams, the drivers, the rules.
Going into college, your one true dream was still a job in the F1 industry. A journalist, perhaps, or even a PR manager. Hell, even a janitor would be okay with you as long as you got to go to Grands Prix and meet all of the drivers and see the action in real life every single time.
And, when the opportunity presented itself to become a PR manager at Mercedes, you didn't think twice about taking the job.
Only problem was, you were tasked with being George Russell's manager. The infamous 'British dust' guy.  
You didn't think he was that special. Yes, he was hot and one hell of a driver, but you didn't find anything special. He was just another British dude who you had to work with.
"Hello?" George's voice snapped you out of your daydreaming, making you look up at him where he stood in the doorstep of your office.
"Yes, hello. Come in" you stood up and shook his hand, which you found to be incredibly soft and warm, before clearing your throat and motioning for him to take a seat in front of you.
"You've already got an office, that's nice. I only have a small room which could even be classifies as a broom cupboard" he commented, smiling as he looked around your still unpacked and disorganized office.
You laughed and nodded your head, "Yeah, I heard about your rooms. Not the comfiest places on Earth to stay in, I imagine"
"They're the worst. I barely have the space to stretch my legs out and I need the space because I'm tall as a tree" he said, making you laugh out loud.
He was funny, you had to give him that. Unknown to you, he smiled when he heard you laugh, his heart swelling at the sound of your voice.
"I can imagine. Shall we get down to business then?" you asked once you'd finally calmed down.
"If we must, of course" he exhaled, giving you a subtle wink before leaning back and motioning for you to start speaking.
You went through your agenda for the day, explaining the schedule for the media days in the upcoming days and sorting out any issues he'd previously had.
By the end of your meeting, you had warmed up to the famous Brit, his energy and attitude making you feel comfortable and overall giddy on the inside.
"Do you think I'll win this weekend?" he asked as he stood up, making his way towards your door.
"I don't know, perhaps you will, perhaps you won't" you teased, shrugging your shoulders trying to be nonchalant.
"Wanna make a bet?" the twinkle in his eyes should've been a sign for you not to agree with him, but you found yourself nodding your head.
"Do tell"
"If I don't win, I'll grant you access to my media accounts for the rest of the season" he said.
"And if you win?"
"You go on a date with me" he bluntly said, making you freeze.
This would be highly unprofessional, going out with George even if it was for a bet, but something in you told you to say yes. 
"You've got yourself a deal, Mr. Russell"
What harm could a date do, right?
♡♡♡♡♡
Damn you, George.
He had actually done it.
He won the race.
You were proud of him, you really were. But the butterflies in your stomach freaking out over the fact that you now had to go on a date with George were sending nerves to every single cell in your body.
You took a moment before stepping out of the Mercedes garage to find George and get the media part covered.
"Congratulations!" you squealed once you met up with him, surprised when he enveloped you in his arms and lifted you off the ground, spinning you around.
"I did it because of you" he whispered as he sat you down, not letting go of you.
"Because of me?" you questioned, your eyebrows scrunching together.
"I couldn't pass up the opportunity to take you out, could I?" he teased, his breath hot on your neck under your ear.
Your body let out an involuntary shudder, which made George laugh and finally release you from the tight and long hug.
"You are one of a kind, George Russell" you commented, but a big smile couldn't be wiped off your face.
"What can I say, the British dust must really be a thing" he winked.
You rolled your eyes and pushed him towards the reporters waiting for interviews with the race winner.
Damn you, British dust.
Damn you, George Russell.
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strawberrysainz · 1 year
Text
are we there? lewis hamilton
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“ you think you know lewis hamilton like the back of your hand. a season and some dreams decide to switch that up very quickly. ”
lewis hamilton x reader
a warning — crude language.
word count: 1.6k
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Lewis placed you on the kitchen counter while he turned back to the stove, a teasing smile on his face.
“Come on, baby,” you laughed, taking out your phone to take a picture of him.
He posed stupidly for your camera, and you put away your phone as you simply admired him in the light of the kitchen; it was already dark in England.
“I love you, sweetie,” he said then, and walked over to you, an even sillier smile on his face than yours. “I love you much more than anything in the world, baby. Much more than anything.”
“Even more than sexy pictures, and Roscoe?” you said lazily, tipsy giggles coming from your mouth as you ran your hands over his shoulders, then pulling him in for a hug that made you warm inside.
“Even more than sexy pictures, and Roscoe,” he giggled, and you smiled then as he began to run his hands down your body, food long forgotten…
🏁🫂💋🧩
SAUDI ARABIAN GRAND PRIX, 2022.
You sat up in bed.
Oh no.
A dream about Lewis.
You had been working alongside him for years, sometimes stepping in to assume a personal assistant role in place of his own one when they were unable to do so. you had begun to work with Mercedes in public relations after you decided that you simply had to carry on with the team.
And you’d always viewed Lewis platonically- sharing jokes and smiles but simply just that, nothing more.
Until now, you supposed.
You sort of just stored the dream away in a distant box in your brain, but each night they seemed to get dirtier and dirtier until you couldn’t ignore them; they clouded your thoughts, every empty moment they consumed you- and you were left alone at night whispering his name into a dark room-
“Do you want a word or two to say?”
You realised the question was directed at you.
You shook your head calmly, absentmindedly flicking your gaze to Lewis, who met your casual glance with a crinkly-eyed smile, and you opened your mouth, looking away hurriedly.
“No, Jaz, that’ll be all from my side, thank you.”
You stood up from the table quickly, and you flinched when he said your name.
“Could I speak to you? I need to discuss what approaches to use tomorrow.”
“Of course, Lewis.” You smiled then, a little fakely, but happy to spend time with him nonetheless. You moved to sit next to him, opening up a document on your phone, prepared to type.
You felt yourself focus on parts of him you didn’t like to usually; the rings on his hands, the way his legs-
“So, for the conference tomorrow, I'm in it with Max. I was wondering if when I get a question about how I’m doing shit compared to him—” Lewis made inverted commas with his fingers and rolled his eyes, which you liked, because his face curled up in the most attractive way-
He looked at you politely, turning his laptop to face you.
You looked over the words he had written, but they weren’t registering; you were hyper conscious of the way he was gazing at your face, and you felt like falling into him; but no, that wasn’t great right now.
Right now? God! Pull yourself together!
You properly focused on his words this time, tweaking a few sentences, and turned back to him, smiling. “Yeah, this is perfect. Great job with it,” you said, biting back words.
“Thank you!” Lewis chuckled, and you felt yourself go a little weak in the knees.
You found yourself staring at his face, and he was staring back, slightly puzzled, and you felt really conflicted- to move or not to move?- when Lewis was called away by performance engineers.
You were left staring at the wall, panic filling you up.
🏁🫂💋🧩
“George!” you called, and George turned around with a nod, his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder.
“Can I have a quick chat about what was said in your conference today? I just want to clear what you said so it can go in the files…” you hummed, showing him a doc with his statements and he took the tablet, scanning the sentences, pointing out a few things to you which you quickly changed.
“Thanks, George.. have a good quali,” you smiled, and he gave you a wink.
You took a seat where you always sat, phone out discussing with your colleagues. you never paid attention in q1, knowing it would not impact the team. A few minutes passed, texting and talking.
“FUCK!” A roar came from the back of the garage, where you knew Toto sat, and a sense of dread filled you up as you looked up at the screen.
Lewis Hamilton, qualified p16.
“Holy fuck!” you exclaimed, and sprung up. “Fuck fuck fuck.” You murmured, grabbing the recorder and signalling that you would go with Angela to meet him. The usual girl who did Lewis's press recordings gladly let you go manage the situation, looking nervous.
You walked the short distance to the FIA’s section of the pitlane, watching Lewis’ car pull up. As he sprung out of the car, rigid, you nodded at Angela to give you a moment before you ran to stand alongside him as he was weighed.
“Alright, walk with me,” you said shortly, and he said nothing, walking behind you. You pulled him out of sight of the media or anyone else.
“Lewis, I’d like you to take off your helmet, give it to Angela, and talk to me.”
He took it off- more forcibly than usual- and peeked around the corner, handing it to Angela, and looked back at you, face set in a hard expression and eyebrows raised.
You felt a small surge of heat; you pushed it away just as quickly.
“Listen here. Whatever you’re feeling, that isn’t an urge to push to do better or feel confident that the team will do better in the coming grands prix, it’s gotta wait until after you get out of the media pen and walk through the paddock.”
Lewis bit his lip.
“Alright?”
“Yeah.” He murmured quietly, and you held your arms out for a hug; he looked at you for a moment and brought you in for it.
His hug was comforting, even if he was the one meant to be comforted.
“It’s going to be okay,” you whispered in his ear, and his grasp slackened for a moment before he pulled away, eyes brimming with something you couldn’t decipher; tears, anger, guilt.
“I can talk to you after if you want, yeah? I’m always here,” you said seriously, and you meant it; last year you had slackened when it came to checking in on Lewis, and it built up until after Abu Dhabi arrived and you felt so bad for it.
He nodded, eyes cast to the ground, an invisible pain. You had a feeling to give him a kiss to make it better, a cuddle, something wildly much more than a distanced, somewhat bland conversation.
🏁🫂💋🧩
“He’s feeling let down,” you tell Toto, leaning against the wall of the garage. Lewis had immediately gone into his driver’s room without speaking to the team; understandably so, and it was undoubtedly more safe than letting whatever he was feeling out on them.
Toto sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I know. I know. It’s awful to have him this way, his confidence is bumped.”
You sighed again, looking out to the garage with an annoyed feeling.
“I’m going to go talk to him,” you decided, and Toto shrugged. “Whatever you think will work.”
You bit back a snarky remark as you stalked back to Lewis’ room. You knocked tentatively on the door.
“Come in!”
You entered, closing the door behind you. Lewis was sitting on the small sofa, phone in hand. A nervous expression was on his face.
“Hi,” you said tentatively.
He choked back emotion. “Hi.”
You rushed to hug him on the sofa, and he leant into your arms with a heavy silent heave.
“I'm sorry.” You whispered, pulling back and staring into his expressive eyes. He blinked as tears slid down his face.
“I'm sorry I'm crying.” He said, wiping his eyes. “I feel like I can't cry around anyone any more.”
With that, tears sprung to your own eyes. “I'm sorry you feel that way. I'm really sorry. I slacked off last year when you needed me most. You seemed untouchable, I felt that I couldn't talk to you,” you whispered, and he looked up to the ceiling, tears flowing. “Give me a hug, sweetie,” he said quietly, and you hugged him tightly, crying into his shoulder as he enveloped you in his touch.
You stayed like that for a long time; he rocked you as you stroked his back, revelling in the silence. You heard Angela come in, but Lewis held you firmly and gently murmured for her to give him some time.
Eventually you pulled away at the sound of your phone ringing: it was your head of department, Cornelia. “Hello?” you said quietly, Lewis watching.
“Hi my love, are you with Lewis? Could you bring him to the media pen?”
“Hi, Nelia. Could you give me five minutes?”
“Don’t test me,”
You sighed. Lewis watched you as you shrug, ending the call. “Duty calls,” you whisper, and he sighed. You wipe his tears off his face, murmuring some joke about not letting him down again.
He watched you instead, eyes soft as he studied you work, stroking his cheek. You stand up unsteadily, holding out a hand for him.
“Let's go. Do you want to have dinner tonight?” You ask, reinstating your past tradition of dinner on Saturday.
“Gotta work,” he says hoarsely, and you curse yourself for the insensitivity of it; he’s not at the same level as when you did go out on a Saturday.
“It’s alright,” he answers, saving an apology. “Breakfast?”
“Yeah,” you smile, opening the door.
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leila talks: hashtag emo!! let me know if you want a part two, i’m lowkey invested in this story
here’s my masterlist <3
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kumezyzo · 7 months
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enemies to lovers with bf!sapnap !
this turned out to be way longer than i had anticipated. and it didn't even really get to the lover part. but i can make a part 2 if people are really interested. streamer reader, btw. this is also incredibly long.
anyway, enjoy or dont :) m.list
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you and sapnap met each other in a valorant lobby. you chose to play the sage, and sapnap just happened to be having a bad day. And it just so happened you were both streaming.
"sage, do your fucking job!" his voice sounded through your headset. his tone made you do a double take, snapping you out of your concentrated trance. you looked at your chat and then your camera in disbelief before you made your way over to his downed character.
"ask nicely, asshole," you mutter under your breath, not realizing you were unmuted.
"id ask nicely if you knew how to play the fucking game," he said, causing you to freeze for a moment. then you rolled youre eyes and healed him, praying for the round to be over soon.
when the round was over and you started talking about how rude that one guy was, your chat made it aware to you that he was also a streamer.
"sapnap?" you ask, looking at your chat with a bit of disgust. "he's a big streamer? that doesn't give him the right to be an ass."
you sigh as you open up a different tab and look him up. the first thing that shows up is a picture of his face, and you couldn't help but think he was a little cute. then you remembered his condescending voice and the attraction left.
"he plays minecraft, too?" you ask out loud to no one in particular. you clicked on the first minecraft video that came up and shared your screen with your stream.
you watched a few minutes of the video, skipping through it and making your own judgments on his content.
"notice how he only plays with men...."
that judgment being that he's a misogynist.
he looked you up as well, and he couldn't help but think you were attractive as well. but he couldn't find a flaw in you as quickly as you could in him.
"she sounds.... annoying..." he said as he watched you into your youtube video. half his chat agreed while the other noticed the glint in his eye as he watched you speak.
and as fate would have it, the first time you're in an mcc, you're also put on a team with sapnap. when you see the roster, you think the name sounds familiar. that is before you realize who he was and how much you were going to hate your first mcc.
when your team started training, you tried to avoid talking to him. but it was hard when the game was built on communication.
he would be nice to everyone else, encouraging them and giving them advice, but then a complete ass to you. he refused to call you anything but "sage" and only criticized you.
and as much as you wanted to be civil with him, you simply couldn't. so you started taking small little jabs at him. and from then on, it was constant bickering that your two other teammates didn't bother to keep up with. and some days, you couldn't either.
"sapnap, get your shit together," you say tiredly.
"shut the fuck up, sage," he shoots back quickly. you roll your eyes and sigh, debating whether or not to just leave the call, turn off your pc, and go to bed.
your chats thought it was hilarious. as hostile as it felt some times, you found yourself making jokes that even made him laugh. the clips of you two laughing with each other were few but cherished within both your fandoms.
then it so happened that you two saw each other at Twitch Con. people lost their minds seeing you two greet each other stiffly. and a clip started to circulate. an angle of you meeting the dream team, but saps face very clear in the video.
his eyes raked up and down your body when he stepped back to let you hug dream and george, the glint in his eye returning. then his face turned annoyed as you smiled at his best friends. it was a strong contrast to how you gave him a tight-lipped smile and waved at him awkwardly.
afterward, dream (being the hospitable human he is) invited you out to dinner with them. you couldn't refuse, although the idea of sapnap being there made your blood boil. but you sucked it up and went to have fun with your new friends.
when the pictures were posted, people couldn't help but notice how you and sap sat on either side of dream. it looked like two fighting toddlers being separated by their mother. and it didn't help that dream tweeted it with the caption 'making sure the kids aren't fighting 🥰" people make it a thing that dnf are the parent and you two are the children.
thankfully, you two got along that night, something shifted from completely unable to stand one another to less insulting banter.
"thank you," you said to the waiter as the set down your drink. you smiled at them right before they walked away.
"thank you," he mocked once the waiter walked away. you leaned forward and glared at him.
"im sorry, do my manners bother you?" you asked, trying to fight the disgust on your face.
"when you sound like a bitch, yea," he said, looking down at the menu again.
to
"so, sapnap," you emphasize his streamer name. "what is it with you only having male friends?"
"what is it with you not knowing how to heal people, sage?"
"you really dont have manners, huh?" you said, shaking your head at him. "usually, you say someones name when referring to them."
"not when they can't play valorant."
to
"dont post that," you said fearfully once you see the flash go off. sapnap looked at you with a mischievous glint. you were mid bite when he decided to take a picture.
"or what, sage?" he challenged, narrowing his eyes at you.
people then started noticing how you two were interacting more but also weren't as hostile as before. instead of rolling your eyes or grimacing when something is said about sapnap, you listen intently. you had become good friends with dream and george. you found that hearing stories of the three of them made you warm up to sapnap.
he didn't seem as rude as he was when you first met. and that original attraction was finding its way back to you. it was almost embarrassing to admit that his face wasn't too hard to look at anymore. you found yourself even admiring him at times. and it scared you.
he started seeing you in a similar way. he always thought you were pretty. he never denied that. but now it was easier to admit. he had warmed up to you. he wasn't sure you'd agree, but he might even go as far as to consider you a friend. a mutual one at the very least. and that could be seen in the ways he defended you.
"you know yn, right?" a man said to sapnap through his headset. he was invited to do a podcast. and now, the topic of conversation has switched to you.
"yea, what about her?" he asked, confused as to where the conversation may go.
"i mean, you've seen it first hand. shes kinda annoying," the host said. sap furrowed his eyebrows as he continued. "she acts like such a bitch. jesus christ, i saw a guy donate her like a hundred bucks and just shut him down."
"shes a bitch cause she didnt wanna date some guy in her chat?" he asked slowly.
"he wasnt just some guy, he dm'd her like six times and she just kept saying no. didnt even give him a chance, man," the host said, shaking his head in disappointment. "sucks man. she was kinda bad too."
even though that episode never aired, sapnap still told his best friends about it. and they obviously had something to say.
"nick, i thought you hated her," dream said, confused.
"im not gonna let someone say that shit about her," he said nonchalantly.
"why, cause only you can?" dream joked. sapnap rolled his eyes. "i also just dont get why you're such a dick around her. you obviously like her, so why-"
"i dont like her," sapnap cut him off. he shook his head as dream deadpanned.
"okay, well, like her or not," dream sighed. "shes cool. hang out with her. then maybe you'd actually make some progress with her."
and then you did hang out. in minecraft obviously. but you made a series out of it. you two named it "minecraft for dummies". it was just a series where you two tried to work together in a minecraft world.
it was built on you challanges your viewers would request every week. the clips that came out of it ranged from you two being wholesome to your mics crackling rom yelling at eachother.
"can you make my bed orange?" he asked you as he got more wood to finish the third level of your shared house.
"yea, i got'chu," you said with a giggle as you crafted the bed.
to
"DID YOU JUST KILL MY WOLF???"
"IT WAS GOING TO KILL ME!"
"SAGE, I WILL FUCKING MURDER YOU-"
"WAIT!!! IM ON FOUR HEARTS-"
and as a result of this series, sapnap started calling you by your name on occasion. it was rare and the first time it happened, it through you through a loop. then it kept happening. and it shocked everyone else as much as it did you.
"yn, stop putting this-"
"what did you just call me?"
him calling you by your name, even if its every once in a while, and found yourself smiling at the way it rolls off his tongue. it was just comfortable. both of you denying there were any feelings between you two was alright. it just was.
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i gave up towards the end if you couldnt tell. but i really hope you enjoyed. -nony
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