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sykosugu · 1 month

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♤♢ on the run ♧♡ | prologue

♤ summary: she's an infamous bank robber, and he's the only detective that's been able to get close to her. he was never apart of her plans. but he's got his clutches in her and she can't let go. a geto suguru au

♢ warnings: this story will contain descriptions of violence, destructive behavior, toxic behavior, illegal activities, sexual content, death. use of weapons. forbidden romance

♧ currently: completed

♡ taglist: closed

♤ wc: 1.4 k (they will get longer I promise)

♢ carlile speaks: hi everyone! welcome! I was working on chapter one, and the mood boards (yes boards, there are two more bc I'll do anything to avoid writing even though I love doing it) and this idea popped in to kind of give you a beginning thought as to how they officially met. But chapter one is coming! enjoy this little insight, and I know it definitely is little right now!

you are here | next part

Seventy seconds. That’s all you had until the silent alarm blared at the local police station. But lucky for you, you only need thirty of those seconds to get what you needed. A simple in and out procedure was always how you operated.

In through the front door, dressed to impress. A Bag under your arm and an umbrella in your hand. The umbrella is the key. Literally.

Bank managers always approach you from first entry, wanting to impress someone who looks so lavish; we must keep our high end customers happy. You’re led to the safety deposit room, with the intent of placing your precious jewels into a box.

Until the handle of the umbrella is twisted and a knife is drawn.

The knife held to the manager's throat while he opened every single box he could in the 30 second time span. But you know exactly which boxes to open. You've been surveying this area for weeks now. Camera hacking. One of your specialties. Every customer who entered this room in the last month, you’d seen and known what to take. Totally under wraps; never to be seen until the job needed done.

When the managers think they can overpower a girl like yourself, the gun stashed in your waistband makes its appearance, deftly putting the men in their places.

This was always how you operated. Never the cash; always the safety deposit boxes. Sometimes the items placed inside were of monetary value, but some were of unmatched value; precious family heirlooms that could get ransomed for way more than any cash vault would hold. That’s always what you were after. Sometimes, jewels were involved and that was a plus. A girl can never have too many diamonds. They are your best friends after all. But the ransomed heirlooms, some of kings and queens of the corporate world: that was your MO. You were the Red Queen.

Were.

Suguru was not something you’d anticipated. Suguru was your biggest flaw. He was now your weakness. But he was also the enemy.

He’d been tracking you for months; been minutes from you so many times. You were his biggest project that he’d never been able to get his hands on. You were a myth at this point. Never actually seen, except by the bank managers who were never able to give a good enough description.

“She had big sunglasses, bright red lipstick and a killer smile.”

He knew that much. That was it.

Until now.

He had you.

You walked out five seconds too late.

He had you.

A hand harshly grips the back of your upper arm, spinning you around. Your fist instinctively reaches up, elbow colliding with the person in question; a cracking sound fills the air as your arm connects with their face. You’d successfully knocked their head back. Killing was never your objective when it came to defending yourself, a body leads to problems. You don’t have time for problems. Suguru’s used to combat though, with gritted teeth he takes the blow. Cracking his neck, his other hand reaches to grasp your other arm, flinging you down onto his car's hood as pedestrians continue on their day. Most stop for the show, but others see the badge hanging from his neck and don’t question anything. Your back comes in contact with the car, your head bouncing off the surface; ears ringing from the loud bang. Your arms are braced in front of you as you feel the handcuffs being placed around your hands.

He had you.

Nobody could ever get you. You were like a ghost in the nighttime; but he found you out. Who was this guy? Why does it kind of turn you on? But it also definitely terrifies you.

“We finally meet,” he grins down at you. “I’m Detective Geto, and you’ve been my biggest foe for almost a year,” You just stare back at him. “But you can call me Suguru.”

You were in the back of his car in minutes. Hands cuffed in front of you while he stared at you in the rearview mirror. Unbeknownst to you until now, he’d lied about catching you. He said you’d gotten away again.

He watched you walk into the bank this time. He was the one who was ahead. He finally had the upper hand.

And he liked it.

“No, sir. She got away again.” you heard him say flatly in the front seat. “Yes, sir, I get that but if–” he stops, pressing his thumb and pointer finger into his eyes. “Sir, if i can just speak for a minute,” you can hear yelling through the speaker, but no words can be made out.

Why isn't he telling him you’re right here? What is going on?

“Sir, I had her. She got away. I’ll get her again.,” he pauses again, “Yes sir, I understand. Thank you, Chief. I got it. I’ll handle it. Thank you.”

He’ll handle what? What is happening?

Suguru’s eyes catch yours in the mirror. “You’ve been eluding me for the longest time, Y/N. Or should I say The Red Queen.”

“Call me Ruby. I don’t use that name anymore,” you mutter. Unsure why you’re even responding. What does he want with you? He lied about you to his boss.

“Ruby,” he swirls the name around his tongue, “Pretty,” and he’s starting the car.

“Where are you taking me?” you question, fingers reaching down to pull one of the bobby pins from your boot. You’re always prepared.

“Even if you free yourself, the doors are locked,” he smirks at you in the mirror. You catch his gaze, offering him a glare. “I’m not a threat to you. Not right now.”

What the hell does that mean?

“You’re literally a cop, and you’re not telling me where you’re taking me.”

“I just want to talk to you before I decide what to do next,” his eyes fixed on the road again. You notice the white in his knuckles from gripping the steering wheel so hard. He’s nervous. You could use that to your advantage. Wherever he was taking you, you were going to use your biggest asset: yourself; to get what you needed.

Your freedom. Your biggest job was coming up soon, and you needed to be prepared.

This cop obviously had an attraction towards you. If only he wasn’t a cop, you could entertain the thought of a relationship if he hadn’t been. But honestly, it would probably hold you back.

“Where are we going? Why did you lie? What’s going on?”

“So many questions, Ruby. Live a little,” he chuckles at you. Was this guy insane? A cop isnt taking the opportunity to turn you in? He’d be decorated for the rest of his life.

“Live a little? Do you hear yourself? You said I’d been eluding you for nearly a year, why arent you taking me in? Don’t you want the accolades? Detective Geto takes down the Red Queen,”

“Thought you didn’t go by that name anymore?” He questions, a smirk on his lips.

“I don’t,” you grumble. “But word obviously hasn’t spread yet,” your eyes roll.

“Besides, I'd rather get to know you first,” he says nonchalantly.

“Are you insane?”

“Maybe. But you are too,” he eyes you, making your face redden like your lipstick.

“You don't know anything about me,” you bite out at him. Who does this guy think he is?

“I do,” he states matter of factly. He states your full name. Your fake secured social security number. The list of aliases you use to book hotels, rental cars whatever you needed. He knew what he needed to know. But after seeing you in person, he needed to know more.

He put two and two together based off your appearance. A long black Chanel coat. Big black sunglasses. Dark red lips. The umbrella.

He just knew it was you. He watched you walk into the bank.

“Count to thirty,” he thinks to himself. He’d studied your tactics. He knew them like the back of his hand.

And waited. You were late. One. Two. Three. This might actually happen for him. Four. He’s sweating. Five. You’re here. You’re right here. If he just reaches out—

And now here he was, you in the back of his car driving you to his safe house.

Where he’d get to know what he wanted—needed—to know.

He would figure out a way to know everything.

♧ tags: @celestie0 @lostfracturess @carlacujo @alwaysfreakingout @shervinss @jaelahh @gojolvrr34 @shesplendl

(pls make sure your settings are right to get tagged!)

#jjk suguru #getou suguru x reader #suguru geto smut #geto suguru #geto x reader #jjk geto #jujutsu geto #geto smut #suguru geto #suguru x you #suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen suguru #suguru geto x y/n #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #geto suguru x you

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foxintheferns · 4 months

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I'd love to see Jacob with a single mama. I'd love it if he imprinted on her while she's playing with her little one on the beach. She could be Charlie's niece who he helped move to Forks to give her a fresh start with the little one. I'm thinkin the kiddo is about 1-2, old enough to walk/play in the sand but still young. I can see Jacob being the best papa ever and the pack just LOVING on the kid <3 Please and thank you! <3

Thank you so much for your patience with this one! Because I made you wait so long, I made it a long one <3. Loved writing such sweet lil fluffy stuff. Please enjoy :)

A/N: AU where Jacob and Bella aren’t toxic & weirdly obsessed with each other, and he has his own life and experiences outside of her! Period.

HOME

You sat on the sand with Lydia between your legs, her wispy, silky auburn hair blowing between your fingers with each soft gust of the salty breeze. You faced the ocean, La Push beach surrounding you in all of its striking glory.

Lydia babbled as she played with the sand, her back to you and her arms and legs quite literally covered in the granules. It would be her second birthday in two months, and you couldn’t understand where the time had gone. She grew so quickly, her chunky little arms and legs getting longer by the day, and you wished desperately that you could pause time.

Your ex boyfriend Noah, Lydia’s father, hadn’t wanted much to do with the raising of his child.

You looked down at the side of her sweet face, the buttery soft skin of her cheek glowing with the orange light of the afternoon. It was despicable that anyone could not want to love this tiny human, you thought, that anyone would even consider leaving her by choice. But that was exactly what Noah had done. His booze and his gambling was far too important to him to bother with the raising of a small child.

It made you angry; you felt a relentless and almost violently intense need to protect her. From everything ugly and awful and false in this world, even if that meant her own father. He had never treated you right, always gone for nights at a time doing who knows what with God knows who. The pregnancy had been an accident, but his reaction was not what you’d expected. He’d seemed to be on-board at first, but was never there for you during your difficult pregnancy. You thought back to how your muscles had ached as you were on all fours scrubbing the bathroom floor that one Saturday night, seven months pregnant and inconceivably exhausted. He had come home after being gone for two days, reeking of liquor and barely having time to slur out his angry question of what you were planning on making for dinner before he’d passed out on the living room couch.

You had been expecting Lydia’s birth to snap him back to reality, to throw things into perspective for him. But the man you had practically grown up with, together since 18, had missed her birth.

“Got caught up at work,” had been his excuse when he showed up at the hospital the next morning. Even the labor and delivery nurse had thrown him a glare.

When Lydia was 3 months old, you were forced to go part-time at the job you’d loved, the one that could actually lead somewhere. Without Noah’s help, childcare was next to impossible. Your neighbor, Jess, a stay at home mom of three, was kind enough to babysit Lydia with her own children for a few days out of the week, but you felt awful not being able to pay her much, if anything, most weeks.

After over a year of trying, of desperately hoping and yearning for the man you had once loved to be a father to your sweet girl, you’d finally thrown in the towel. Noah had made it clear that he had no interest in being a dad, and in one of his more blacked-out stupors, had even remarked that if the two of you hadn’t gotten pregnant, things would’ve been easier. Better.

Noah had been gone 11 days, his longest absence yet.

You’d packed your minimal belongings, gathering Lydia’s too and putting them into her tiny suitcase with strawberries on it.

Your mom had passed when you were 16, and your dad was very much like Noah. Oh, how patterns repeat themselves. You didn’t have much of a support system to fall back on when shit hit the fan.

The one person you knew would answer if you called was your Mom’s brother, Charlie.

“(Y/N)?,” his gruff, tired voice had come through the phone that early Tuesday morning. You knew it was probably only 4am in Forks, where he was, but he’d still answered the phone.

“Uncle Charlie…,” you’d whimpered shakily, “I-….”

You didn’t even know where to begin. Uncle Charlie had always been so good to you, checking in and asking how Lydia was frequently. He’d been one of the few people you’d called to share the exciting news of your pregnancy with, and had been ecstatic, urging that you come visit him and your cousin Bella as soon as you could.

“What’s goin’ on? You okay?”, His voice had become suddenly alarmed, and you’d heard the shuffling in the background of him getting up and out of his bed.

Leaving with Lydia was something you’d been wanting to do for a while, but you didn’t think you could actually follow through with it. Saying it out loud felt impossible.

“I need your help,” you’d whispered, your voice low and on the verge of breaking.

That was two weeks ago now.

You sat on the soft sand with Lydia, her tiny fingers gripping your leg for support as she pulled herself up, and you thought back to the fear you’d felt that day. Charlie had immediately paid for a planet ticket for you and Lydia to fly up to Port Angeles. He didn’t waste a moment in inviting you to come stay with him. He’d been clearly enraged, barely hiding his distaste for Noah’s behaviors once you’d let the floodgates open and told him everything you’d been hiding for months.

“Jesus, (y/n). I thought you guys were doing good, I-… I thought he was different, honey. I’m so sorry, kid,” Charlie had spoken into the phone after the words pouring from your mouth had finally come to a halt once you’d gotten him caught up on the current status of your relationship with your baby’s father. You hadn’t realized it, but you’d been hiding it from practically everyone. Your cousin Bella texted you often, and she knew some of the details of how absent Noah had become, but even she didn’t know the extent of it. You were a single mother, from the moment Lydia was conceived, you’d accepted that. Noah was never a dad to her.

“Mama! San!” Lydia’s tiny voice shrieked out as she grabbed a fistful of sand and threw it in front of her, some of it spraying in the breeze and landing across your chest and arms. She tentatively waited for your reaction. Her eyes scanned your face, her pink cheeks pulled into an ecstatic smile. You laughed, shaking your head, and wiped the rough granules off of your skin as you nodded at her.

“Yes, sand!” You picked up a handful of it, holding it out to show her and letting it spill through your fingers. She shrieked again, excited by your intentional dropping of the sand, and jumped several times, her little legs barely able to lift her half an inch off the ground.

You’d been down at the beach in La Push almost every day now. You’d gotten settled in to the extra bedroom at the Swan’s house, and you couldn’t help but feel like a burden, so you went out with Lydia often. Charlie and Bella had insisted, several times, that they were grateful to have the two of you. That they didn’t feel burdened by your presence. A toddler definitely wasn’t the quietest or most polite house guest, but Lydia was truly the best thing you’d ever done, and you prided yourself that you’d managed to raise such a good tiny human all on your own.

She was kind, and gentle. She loved animals, she loved making new friends. She watched the world around her with curious and eager eyes, anxious to explore and see and feel. She laughed and laughed and laughed; she was the giggliest baby you’d ever seen.

Bella offered to watch her whenever you needed a break, and you hadn’t asked for one yet. She was practically begging to babysit Lydia at this point, which had surprised even her; she wasn’t much of a kid person.

You didn’t want a break. You were soaking up this time with your little one as much as you could. You felt free, for the first time in a long time.

The beach felt like home now, and Lydia seemed to think so too. Every time you walked with her down the dirt path toward the beach, she would screech and try her best to run towards the glistening ocean. You’d been at the beach now for an hour or two, and you reached into your bag to pull out more baby sunscreen for her.

“Lyd, come ‘ere babe.” You reached out, gently pulling her to you, and her eyes landed on the pink bottle of sunscreen. She knew the drill at this point, and gingerly leaned against you as you rubbed the cream across her tiny little shoulders and arms. She giggled and smiled as the cold sunscreen landed on her skin.

“Eeee!” She cried, slapping her small hands against your leg as she pulled her face away in protest to you trying to spread the sunscreen across her cheeks. She still stood in place though, squeezing her eyes shut and pouting as you rubbed it in.

“Thank you, baby. Such a good girl,” you cooed as you snapped the lid of the sunscreen closed and placed a kiss on the tip of her little nose. You continued to pepper her face with smooches until she was a screeching, giggling mess on the sand, her arms and legs flailing every which way. You tickled her, both of you laughing loud enough for the sound to travel over the noise of the rolling waves hitting the beach.

After the tickle attack came to an end, you grabbed some strawberries and blueberries from your bag, pulling open the Tupperware container and holding it out to Lydia. Her eyes lit up (strawberries are her all time fave) and she eagerly grabbed at the berries with both hands. After several minutes of snacking, her mouth and face was stained pink and red, and her fingers were sticky. The sand was still warm, although the breeze was starting to cool off a bit.

“Let’s walk, yeah Lyddi?,” you asked, getting up from your large towel and brushing the sand off of your legs. She bounced around beside the towel, falling a few times onto the soft sand as she lost her balance. You held your hand out and smiled down at her, waiting for her to meet your eyes. She reached out without hesitation, allowing you to envelope her tiny hand in yours, and let you lead her down towards the water.

You walked across the gentle waves, only going far enough so that the incoming swells flowed across your feet and ankles. With each wave hitting the shore, Lydia giggled and gripped your hand firmly, picking her feet up as quickly as she could to run from the water as it approached, only to run back towards it when it receded. You bent down, releasing her hand to skim the ocean water, wetting your fingers to clean the berry juice from her face.

As you were wiping your thumb across the soft skin of her chin, you saw her eyes flicker to something behind you, down the beach. Her gaze was intent and focused, and you glanced over your shoulder to see what managed to catch her constantly fleeting attention. A group of four tall men coming down the beach, kicking a soccer ball amongst their group. Their laughter was just reaching your ears now, and they were coming close enough that you were able to make out their faces.

They were quite large, and all but one of them were shirtless. The image rang a bell: they looked like they could be some of the Quileute boys you’d heard Bella mention were her close friends. You knew the beach was on the local Quileute reservation, but it’d been relatively empty in the days you and Lydia had been spending there, and you’d only seen random tourists walking along the beach occasionally. Bella had complained jokingly to you that these friends of hers were annoyingly always shirtless, impossibly large and tall, and that her boyfriend Edward wasn’t the biggest fan of them.

You smiled when one of them looked down the beach towards you and Lydia, and he seemed to return a polite smile at first, but his face melted into an odd expression when your eyes met. It was an indecipherable look. A look you didn’t understand.

He stopped walking, his body halting while his friends continued to move down the beach ahead of him. For a moment, it almost seemed like he was about to wave or come towards you, as if he recognized you like an old friend. The peculiar expression lingered for a moment before he pulled his eyes away quickly, and you saw his mouth moving as he seemed to speak swiftly to the men around him. His friends stopped walking as well, all turning to face him with bewildered expressions. The eye contact between you had been longer than a typical interaction with a stranger, but you felt oddly unalarmed. You were struck with an odd sensation that felt like you recognized him too.

He was the tallest of the group, his shoulders wide & strong. His frame was long and lean, and he happened to be the only one wearing a shirt, though it was a black cut off tank that didn’t cover much of his chiseled musculature underneath. You brushed the encounter off as random and probably explainable, trying to ignore the odd and unfamiliar sensation that prickled across your entire body like electricity.

You turned back to Lydia, but her curious eyes were still locked on the group behind you, wonder filling her face. A smile crept onto your lips as you watched her blink, her long lashes framing her wide eyes. She was beautiful. She was always so curious, so interested. Strangers made her nervous, like any two year old, though, which is why you were utterly bewildered when she broke away from your grasp and started toddling down the shore towards the group of men. You shot up from your lowered position, chasing after her.

“Lydia!” you called, your feet picking up pace.

It was amazing just how fast a two year old could be when they suddenly decided they had a destination in mind. You caught her under the armpit just as she almost fell across the wet sand in her run, and your knees hit the soft sand as you almost fell yourself. You panted, holding onto her and unable to stifle back a laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“What the heck! Lyd-,” you started, looking up from where you grasped her. She was frozen, staring up at something.

She’d managed to close the distance between the two of you and the men, quickly enough that the soccer ball they’d been passing around as they came down the beach was only feet away now. You followed her gaze, and saw two large hands come down to swiftly pick up the ball. Your eyes moved up more still, until they landed on the face of the man you’d just locked eyes with moments before.

His gentle brown eyes were wide, his jaw slack and his expression yet again incomprehensible. You still had a smile on your face, and his eyes flicked down to your grin, the corners of his own mouth lifting up slightly. He gestured toward you with the arm that held the soccer ball.

“You’re, uh, Bella’s cousin?” The sound of his voice was rough and deep. Your grin faltered to make way for the suprised expression that came across your face.

“Oh, uh, yeah! Um, you know Bella?” You asked, taking the brief moment to get back up onto your feet and readjust the flowy fabric of your sundress that had gotten ruffled up in the capturing of your tiny escapee. You still held Lydia’s hand, and she stayed unmoving by your side, watching the tall man with the same awed expression. A grin spread across his face, and his eyes maintained the same electric glow they’d had from the moment you’d looked at him.

“Bella’s one of my best friends, yeah. She’s told me a lot about you…and… uh Lydia, right?” He spoke gently, his eyes glancing down at the tiny human to your right. You looked down at her, too, and she smiled timidly up at the man, stepping slightly behind your leg shyly. You beamed back at him, nodding and running your fingers through the soft silky baby hair on the top of Lydia’s head.

“Yeah, this is Lydia,” you replied, ruffling her hair until a soft giggle fell from her lips.

“I’m Jacob Black,” he glanced beyond him briefly and jerked his thumb over his shoulder, “those are my buddies Quil, Embry, and Jared. You’re (Y/N)?”

You glanced briefly over to the other three men, though they were now immersed in their own mumbled conservation several yards away; one of them was watching you with interest and flashed a warm smile back at you.

You nodded, turning back to Jacob.

“That’s me,” you answered with a shrug and a smile. When you met his gaze again, his eyes were intense, almost pained, his pupils wide. That electric feeling ran through you again. The eye contact between the two of you lingered each and every time it occurred, as if it was an inconvenience to pull away from it for both of you. Jacob knelt down on one knee, tucking the soccer ball under his arm. His eyes only broke away from yours to glance down at Lydia, who was still watching him intently from her place next to your leg.

“Hi, Lydia, it’s nice to meet you,” he murmured gently, “I’m Jacob.”

There was a hesitation, and you were just about to encourage Lydia to say hello to Jacob, but to your surprise she broke away from you once more, ambling across the sand and reaching her arms out towards the soccer ball Jacob held under his arm. In her uncoordinated stumbling over the sand, she started to fall forwards. Before you could even begin to reach to catch her, one of Jacob’s large hands came out in a flash to support her, stopping her mid fall.

“Woah, buddy, careful there!” He exclaimed, a chuckle coming from his chest.

At the sound of his laughter, your baby beamed up at him, her expression suddenly delighted, and after a moment, a giggle erupted from her own little body.

Your eyes widened, shocked as you watched her laugh, Jacob’s large hand still holding her up off the sand. His eyes flickered to you as you broke into surprised laughter as well, and soon the three of you were a giggling mess. Lydia adored making adults laugh. It was the phase she was currently in: to laugh at everything anyone deemed amusing, and it was common that she would even fake laugh to get you to laugh, which would often result in a real fit of hysterics from the both of you

You were astonished that she’d warmed to a stranger so quickly, especially such a large man - a category of human that toddlers tend to decide is terrifying for no reason.

As the afternoon started to bleed into evening, you and Lydia got to know your new friends. Lydia was very opposed to moving away from them, interested in the soccer ball and jumping around in the sand. Jacob continued to stare intently at you every moment that his eyes weren’t required to be on something else, and you didn’t mind it. His energy was warm and gentle, and even his friends seemed to find his behavior entertaining, chuckling and whispering to eachother every time Jacob’s eyes lingered on you for a few seconds too long. You couldn’t help but feel the heat rush to your face with his stares. You hadn’t really felt this noticed by someone, a man, in what felt like forever. And he was absolutely noticing you. He was doing more than notice you. He was ogling at you, drinking the sight of you in like fresh air for a suffocating man. His eyes turned gentle and soft whenever they fell upon Lydia, and he spent the time as the two of you spoke truly attending to her and her endless toddler games, showing earnest interest in the shells she had picked up and started to stack on one of his feet.

“Oooh, wow, now that one’s pretty. Definitely my favorite one yet.” He carefully examined the newest purple shell Lydia had found and handed to him for inspection. She smiled and clenched her fists in excitement, eagerly racing to find more shells in the sand to bring to him.

His eyes slowly found their way back to yours as you sat beside one another. You smiled softly, and he returned it, the smile reaching his eyes and crinkling them gently.

There it was again, that electricity.

Six Months Later

It had been a whirlwind, these past six months. Meeting Jacob Black had changed life entirely for you and your daughter. After that night on the beach, you, Charlie and Bella had visited the Blacks’ home a few times, joining them for bonfires and pizza dinners whenever a hockey game was on tv. Bella seemed adamant that you visit Jacob often, even Charlie seemed surprised with how eagerly she encouraged you to join them and hang out with the Quileute boys. You’d met Jacob’s father, who seemed to welcome you into his family without hesitation within moments of meeting you. He had peered at you with an intensely inquisitive expression, something that reminded you of the odd gut feeling you hadn’t been able to shake…that your new acquaintances were far more interesting than they let on. There was just something about them, and it felt like a secret club you were looking in on, one that caused the hushed, private conversations that seemed to happen frequently in their presence. You’d spoken to Bella about your encounter with her friend right after that first night on the beach. As the rest of that week had passed, Bella had begun acting suspiciously around you. Within days of her odd avoidant behavior, she finally sat you down to tell you things that challenged your perception of the world, forever.

Vampires and werewolves.

Insanity, right?

Bella had explained her relationship with Edward, and you hadn’t believed it at first.

Like, at all. Who would?

In fact, you thought she’d been completely off her rocker, crazy.

That was, until she’d claimed that Jacob had something to do with it, too.

“You need to go talk to Jacob,” she’d urged, “only he can explain what you need to know.”

You’d been absolutely confused, unsure what Jacob Black had to do with anything, especially with this absurd tale of vampires.

“I’ll watch Lydia. Go,” she’d insisted, practically pushing you out the front door. You were insanely curious; you’d never had any reason to question Bella’s mental competence before, and with her frantic efforts to get you to talk to Jacob, you had to know what this was all about. You still of course doubted the absurd story, but wanted to get to the root of the craziness, naturally.

When you’d arrived at the Black’s house, it seemed Jacob was expecting you, and he’d grabbed your hand gently, pulling you towards his little makeshift garage in the back.

You’d spent hours with him that night. Jacob had tried, while his eyes watered and his voice shook nervously, to explain the wildly unbelievable, and yet somehow completely sensical and validating reality of his ancestral destiny.

“I know, (y/n). Please, believe me, I know this sounds crazy,” he’d said as he anxiously paced across the garage, his eyes flashing to your face for your reaction.

You’d shaken your head, trying to connect the dots in your mind. It matched up with the absurd story Bella had told you, only this time he was speaking of wolves, wolves with the instinctual duty to protect from the supposed vampires Bella become involved with deeply. Wolves that were not wolves, but men. Men that included Jacob and his friends.

“Come with me,” he’d finally insisted sternly as you’d silently refused to accept the words he spoke, staring at him dumbfoundedly.

He’d led you outside, to the dark treeline, and placed his hands up in front of him before you could protest.

“Listen, I know this is gonna be hard to see, (y/n). I didn’t wanna have to do this but I need you to understand. There’s so much more to this world than you think there is. Please,” he’d begged, pulling you into a tight hug, his eyes wildly urging yours to listen to him, his shaky voice reducing to a whisper against your hair, “I understand if you never, ever want to be a part of this. But you deserve to know.”

You’d shaken your head, bewildered.

“What are you talking about, Jake?”

He stood back and started to pull his pants down, and your eyes widened, your eyebrow cocking up in confusion. A smile flashed across his lips.

“Remember what I just told you. I’d never hurt you, okay?”

Your mind flickered to the story he’d just spent the last hour telling you, but your brain simply wouldn’t allow you to defy logic to consider the possibility that the man was truly actually about to turn into a wolf.

And yet, you stood there with your jaw slacked open and your eyes wide, your body frozen as he stepped back several feet, his body twitching and trembling and twisting oddly before…

A ripping sound rang out, a wildly violent sound that came from deep within his body. The sound echoed against the trees, before it fell hauntingly silent across the dark backyard. Within less than a moment, a massive red brown wolf was standing before you, his huge head only inches away from your face.

Your mind didn’t comprehend the sight, the reality too unreal and too intangible to wrap around and understand. Those same brown eyes you’d come to know and feel safe in stared back at you intently from the massive wolf’s face.

It was the last image you remembered before you’d fallen to the ground, slipping into a shock driven unconsciousness.

When you’d woken, you had been in Jacob’s bed, an ice pack being gently repeatedly pressed to your forehead and neck.

It had been a rude awakening, but one that had forced open your eyes to a world that quickly became home for you, lifting the veil of reality that you’d come know.

Jacob’s next explanation was that of the concept of imprinting. That night, after you’d settled and moved out of your state of shock, started speaking real words again, Jacob expressed why he felt it was necessary to expose you to his world. He’d explained the ancient way of imprinting, what it meant for him, what it meant for you. That first day on the beach, the way he’d look at you, that electricity. It all made sense now.

“It’s you, (y/n). Now that you’re here, I will follow you anywhere. Even if you don’t want to be part of this, I’ll always protect you and Lydia from afar. Always. I can’t imagine a world anymore without you, a life without you. The moment I saw you, I felt it. My heart was yours,” he’d murmured, his arms around you as he rubbed your back to calm your tremors that had come across your body as you tried desperately to adjust to your entirely new concept of existence.

That felt so long ago, now. You’d met the Cullens soon after you were welcomed into the world of the supernatural, joining Bella in her secretive lifestyle of hiding the direct truth from Charlie, only letting him in on what he absolutely needed to know. Charlie was over the moon that you and Jacob got together; he pissed Bella off with how openly he approved of your relationship with Jacob over hers with Edward. Jacob didn’t feel right having you live in a spare bedroom at the Swan house, and had practically demanded you move into a home on the reservation with him. He’d jokingly insisted that it wasn’t his fault, that the imprint had forced him to need you in his sight at all times. You didn’t resist, elated to finally feel welcome in a home with your Lydia. And it wasn’t hard - Jacob made that incredibly simple. He so openly loved Lydia nearly as much as he loved you. Sometimes, you wondered how deeply the imprinting had impacted him. He accepted it and took it on with respect. He never pressured you to be anything but there, in his life. He didn’t seem to mind in the slightest or even really notice how slowly you were allowing him into your heart. The relationship you had with Jacob had begun as a deep and true friendship, but the imprint connection was impossible to ignore, and there was undeniable attraction you felt for him, even beyond his beautifully kind heart and spirit. You held hands constantly, even before you’d established any sort of romantic connection. The first night Jacob had kissed you, you’d expressed your hesitation at pulling him into your life. You’d gotten used to men not wanting much to do with a single mom, after Noah had made it clear that you and Lydia were essentially a burden in his life. You were scared, not only for your own heart, but for Lydia’s. You couldn’t bear to bring another man into her life only for him to reject her like her father had. But Jacob? He’d adamantly refused to let your anxieties overcome you. He loved you, he’d insisted. All of you. Lydia was part of you. So, he loved her. It was that simple to him. He was often just as anxious when Lydia was out of his sight as when you were.

You remember the first time Lydia had called Jake ‘Dada’, several months after you’d been exposed to this world of fantasy. Lydia had gotten so comfortable with him, more comfortable than she’d been with any person, besides you, before. She babbled with excitement every time she heard you or Charlie or Bella mention him, and begged to see him frequently. Once you’d moved into the small red house with Jacob, she’d jump and squeal every time his truck pulled into the driveway at the end of the day.

That day she first said the word, you’d nervously glanced at his face, searching for his response.

She’d been holding his hand, walking along the shore at La Push. It was winter by this point, but Lydia needed her regular beach walk, and was bundled in her tiny red puffer jacket and white hat. She’d stooped down to pick up a shell, gripping it in her small fist, and jerked her hand out to him, dropping the shell into his hand.

“Dada!” She’d squealed as she waited for his approval of the shell.

His eyes had lit up and an expression of utter shock, which had quickly shifted into ecstatic bliss, moved across his features. His eyes had flashed to yours, and he clearly struggled, with everything in him, to hold back a massive grin. He was unsure of your reaction. Your eyes had melted back at him, and you were completely unable to resist the smile that crossed your lips. His dark eyes had turned glossy, and he’d looked back down at Lydia’s impatiently waiting face as she’d stared up at him, grasping the shell and embracing her in a massive bear hug. She’d laughed and shrieked, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck.

At Lydia’s 2nd birthday party, the whole pack had celebrated with you and Jacob at Billy’s house. The rest of the boys had happily taken on the role of proud uncles, practically fighting over who could hold her whenever you brought her over.

Life was peaceful, and you’d taken on a job at the La Push Farmer’s market. Childcare was a breeze now: on any given day while you were at work, either Sue & Charlie or Emily would eagerly babysit Lydia if Jacob was out on patrol or working his shift as a mechanic at the local bike shop. Lydia now had a family that was larger and more loving than you could have ever dreamed for her.

And you couldn’t ignore the fateful gift that you’d received too. Jacob Black was yours, and you were his. And you knew that, without a single doubt, he’d protect you and your daughter with relentless fervor for the rest of your lives.

You were safe. You were loved.

You were home.

#twilight #imagines #fanfic #twilight imagines #jacob black #jacob black x reader

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ddollfface · 2 months

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is it possible for you to expand on the alphabet ‘H’ for yandere!athlete? I’m just curious to see the full extent of his punishment when he ‘snaps’. You don’t have to. This is my first ask so I’m just curious

— 🐏 anon

𝐀 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝

𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗔𝘁𝗵𝗹𝗲𝘁𝗲 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

"I'm not feeling myself today, so it's alright if I feel you instead?"

Trigger Warnings; bad writing, lovesick behavior, manipulation, toxic relationship, love bombing, reader is called 'girlfriend', fake emotional cheating (it'll make more sense later), um I think that's it, pretty tame ngl, honestly it's shorter than my usual posts sorry(( If I missed anything, then please let me know ♡ You are now 🐏!Nonny! Congratulations, you now have your own tag! I hope this is up to your standards... I kind of went on a tiny, just a tiny tangent, but what's new lol

Okay, ngl, I've been waiting for someone to ask about this, so thank you 🐏!Nonny for asking)))

Now, to the question. I would like to preface that it would be very, very, very difficult to make LoveSick!Athlete 'snap', seeing as he's a very patient person, especially with those he's close to. Growing up, he had to be patient and easygoing. He was the oldest of his siblings, so he had to be responsible; had to step up as a father figure for his younger siblings, as he never had a real dad.

He's very soft with you, always speaking kindly, and never letting his anger or annoyance get a hold of him. He wants to be the best for you, truly, but there are just some things that make people... y'know snap. Even for people like LoveSick!Athlete, who has the patience of a saint.

So, now that we know this, we have to think of a scenario of when and why you'd ever push LoveSick!Athlete over the edge; what would've you said to make him that angry?

It'd probably be something along the lines of questioning either his loyalty to you, or the caliber of his love for you, and how much he provides for you. You'd have to take away his purpose and smush it; dragging it through the mud, and spit on it. Now, that would get him going. There's one thing that LoveSick!Athlete hates, and that's someone who's ungrateful.

He's done so, so, so much for you, can't you see?

It would've started from an argument, likely you bringing up how he seems too receptive to other girls on campus, too willing with their antics. And that just didn't sit right with you. You didn't like your boyfriend, in this scenario, hanging around with girls, who you thought to be very, very, very pretty.

Of course, LoveSick!Athlete thought this to be insane, something he hadn't even thought about. Ever since the two of you started dating, he hasn't even looked at a girl, let alone thought about sleeping with one. How could you even say that?

In this scenario, I can see LoveSick!Athlete being petty and becoming flirtatious with other girls just to show you that his behavior before was nothing. If you thought that was flirtatious, then wait until you see him now. Instead of pushing the girls to the side, excusing himself before they could corner him, now he's looking the girls up and down, giving them a little smirk, leading them on. He might even set a hand on their lower back, leading them through the party, maybe even kiss her on the cheek, if you've been rather ungrateful.

Now, LoveSick!Athlete isn't enjoying this, after all, you're his one and only, but you have to learn your lesson. You have to understand that he's been so kind to you, so appreciative of your relationship. Don't you understand? He doesn't like doing this; it's a punishment.

You, seeing all of this, would obviously be distraught. You'd feel so, so, so betrayed. Where had your sweet, loving boyfriend gone? Why was he replaced by some sleazy womanizer? You'd be both sad and pissed the fuck off. You wanted him to tone it down, not multiply it by one hundred!

No matter what, even if you're angry as hell, you'll end up in LoveSick!Athlete's arms, hugging him tightly. He'll find a way to sweet talk you back to him, telling you that you're his only one, that he's just showing you that it wasn't that bad. He'll explain his public image to you; he's gotta stay on top of it, surely you understand, babe? I have no interest in those girls. They're just thinking with what's between their legs. You have to trust me.

Now, that's if you question his loyalty to you, but if you question how much he loves you (which is kinda of related to loyalty, but just ignore that), then you'll face a different type of manipulation. Mans got a whole tool belt on him (I've been waiting to say that lol).

Questioning how much he values you, your affections, your words, and your presence, will lead to love bombing. And for those who don't know what love bombing is, it's a manipulation tactic where the manipulator will use excessive affection to make their victim depend on them for love, believing that they'll only be valued by the manipulator.

LoveSick!Athlete is very familiar with this form of love since he grew up with a mama who has bipolar disorder-

(To be clear, I don't mean to say that everyone with bipolar disorder is a mass manipulator or anything. In certain people, especially mamas who are juggling an abusive marriage, two children, and postpartum all at once, it can be a lot and lead to bad behaviors. Just wanted to say that as someone who deals with a mama with bipolar disorder)

-Now, as a young adult, he's grown the habit of absentmindedly using manipulation tactics to get what he wants. It'll all start with a small argument, you'll question his lover for you, if he even cares for you. After all, he seems to be more attentive over his image than you, his girlfriend!

And all LoveSick!Athlete will do is smile at you, saying that he understands your concerns and that he'll do better. Obviously, this will confuse the hell out of you. Who responds to an argument like that? Certainly, no man you've ever dated!

Even if he doesn't realize it, he'll begin to show excessive amounts of affection after the argument. He'll constantly be giving you hugs, clinging onto you like a leach, and spamming you with messages/calls. You'll grow accustomed to the overbearing affections, allowing it to become a part of your daily life, but the moment you're used to it, he'll rip it away.

Suddenly, it's as if you don't even exist, like you're just another girl to him. Of course, he'll acknowledge you as his girlfriend, but he's no longer touching you. He's not hugging you, having an arm wrapped around you waist, nor is he holding your hand in public. It's as if he's embarrassed about your relationship. You'll begin to think that LoveSick!Athlete is cheating on you (he's not).

And this sudden behavior change is so delayed that you won't even relate it to your argument, thinking that it was a whole separate issue. And LoveSick!Athlete won't realize it either; it's just subconcious decision he made without knowing.

At some point, you'll come crawling back to him, desperately wanting the affection you used to be overwhelmed by. Of course, LoveSick!Athlete will be overjoyed, welcoming your upfront behavior with open arms. To you, this is like whiplash. Just a few days ago, he was off-putting, giving you the cold shoulder, and now he's leaning on you as if he can't stand himself, what the hell is going on?

And that's when you realize that you're not dating the most... stable individual...

Not to mention what he let his teammates do to you... but that's for another ask, yeah?

#lovesick!athlete x reader #bad writing #lovesick #yandere oc x you #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere male #x reader #obsessive love #𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡'𝙨 𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚'𝙨 #𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚 #🐏!𝙉𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙮 #request #nonny asks

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celluloidbroomcloset · 4 months

Text

I want to talk about Ed's "I loved you, best I could" and Lucius's "maybe the time he spent with you is the best it's ever going to get for him."

We see how clearly Ed fears he's unlovable, but there's another facet that is just as important to how he responds and the way in which he tries to push people, including Stede, away: the fear that he's unable to love someone else in a way that doesn't hurt them.

From what we know of Ed's past, we see that he's not had many real, nontoxic friendships—"pirates don't have friends"—and though he considers Calico Jack and Annie and Mary friends of a certain type, the damage they do each other as a matter of course means that he's never been safe with them. Izzy may be one of the first people in Ed's adult life to even try to say that he loves him—and even that is qualified: "I...have love for you." That love is tainted and toxic, by piracy itself, and by the abuse that Izzy has tried to claim as love. None of the people in Ed's pirate life prior to the Revenge have been able to unequivocally say that they love him, and I think we can infer that he's not been able to say that he loves them. The closest he manages what he says to Izzy, after Izzy is supposedly dead: "I loved you, best I could."

And it's this line that indicates, more than anything, that Ed may believe at this point (his lowest point, where he is already dedicated to killing himself) that he's actually incapable of loving someone properly. He has indeed experienced real friendship and love, not just with Stede but with the crew. It seems clear that he thinks he's done something, or been something, to make Stede leave him, and he's trying very hard to make the crew hate and fear him enough to kill him. His other friends that we've met—Jack and Izzy—are dead (or he thinks they are). He's truly isolated, and it seems he believes that that isolation is entirely because of who he is, not just being unlovable, but being a "bad person" unable to love someone else.

We see this at work already in Season 1, in Ed's inability to do anything to stop Izzy from harming Stede. Stede is related to Ed's mother, the other person in Ed's life whom he loved without toxicity. Ed's murder of his father was to protect his mother and himself, but it ultimately (it's implied) leads to him running away to become a pirate. Having had a person who loved him, he fled to avoid his violence poisoning her further. The duel between Stede and Izzy repeats the process, but Ed is unable, here, to stop the abusive father from harming the person Ed truly loves and who has shown him genuine love. Ed's love for Stede brings Stede into danger and nearly gets him killed.

The second time, Ed brings Calico Jack onto Stede's ship. Ed's reason for leaving the Revenge with Jack is his fear that Stede will eventually see him for what he is, and reject him: "This is who I am, Stede. Can you see me now? You were always going to realize what I am." This comes after Jack has killed Karl and harmed other people in Stede's crew. The undercurrent is that Ed himself has brought violence on the people that he loves, purely by his association with Jack. Again, Ed's love for others is not just a weakness in the eyes of Jack and other pirates, but a danger to the very people he wants to protect.

Which is why Stede's rejection of Lucius's statement—that the time Ed has already spent with Stede is the best it will ever be for him—and his continued hope and expression of love for Ed is so important, not just to Stede's characterization, but to Ed's. Because it isn't just that Stede loves Ed, but Stede's conviction that Ed loves Stede. Stede firmly believes that Ed is capable of love, that the love they experienced wasn't a whim or something that could easily be discarded ("a love like ours doesn't vanish in an instant"), and that Stede himself is not going to accept the idea that Ed's love for him in Season 1 is the best it's going to get. He knows that Ed is capable of love, and that Ed's love is not poisonous or dangerous.

Season 2 isn't just about Ed learning that he's loved, but also about him learning that he is indeed capable of love. He tries to help heal the damage that he has done, not just as Kraken, but as Blackbeard. He tries to give the crew joy, what there is within his power, and to express his love for them through turning "poison into positivity." He learns to love Stede better by becoming a better man himself. Most of all, though, he begins to understand that he is not poisonous but has been poisoned, and he has to let the poison bleed out.

I have more to say about how this works in Season 2, but that's enough for now.

Side note: I do think this is another narrative reason why Izzy has to die. He is one of the last connections to the poisonous past, a major player in Ed's inability to recognize his own capacity for love, and a stumbling block to Ed being able to both accept Stede and the crew's love, and to understanding that his love is not the cause of violence.

#ofmd #our flag means death #edward teach #ed teach #stede bonnet #ofmd meta #ofmd season 1 #ofmd season 2 #izzy hands #calico jack #revenge crew #the crew of the revenge #ofmd s2 #gif

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peaceloveandf1 · 10 months

Text

Regret Me- CS55

summary: To say that you and Carlos have a toxic relationship would be an understatement. The constant back and forth has finally forced you two to break up for the 3rd time. And this time it’s for good. Or is it?

pairing: Carlos Sainz x reader

rating: R for smut ;)

…………………………………..

“Lo siento. No quise decir nena. Sabes que te amo. Lo siento”, his voice plays through the speaker of my phone again for the third time.

This cycle of fighting, fucking, apologies, and breaking up seemed never ending when it came to Carlos and I. We could never make it last. We’d say that we are breaking up for good but like a moth to a flame we’d get drawn back in. I told him that this time was different. And I meant it.

“Fuck him. he’s just trying to get in your head.” My best friend Claudia said, snatching my phone and deleting Carlos’ message. “We’re going out tonight. Dan and the boys want us at Jimmy’z.”

“Claudia, I don’t know. Carlos will probably be there” I try to reason with her. Not wanting to run into Carlos at the club tonight.

“All the more reason to go. You know Daniel wants to fuck you. Make Carlos feel like shit… the way he makes you feel” she argued.

“No no. I’m being the bigger person.” I attempt to reason with her.

“Well I already told him we were going so get something picked out” she said, getting up and flipping through my dresses before selecting a tight black one that would have any guy on their knees.

“That one definitely” I say, my confidence coming back and grabbing a pair of pink platforms.

“The car will be here in 10.” Claudia said before going to the bathroom.

……………………………………………………….

Claudia and I down 3 shots before getting into our car, and by the time we arrived at the popular Monaco club I’m definitely tipsy.

“names?” The security guard asks as we strut to the door.

“They’re with me man.” A voice flows from the darkness behind him.

The body connected to the voice emerges and it belonged to none other than Daniel Ricciardo.

“Danny!" my voice comes out, flirtier than expected.

"Hey baby, long time no see" He smirks, pulling me into a hug before Claudia.

To say that the club was crowded would be an understatement. As we walked in, my jaw dropped. I've been to Jimmy'z so many times before but with the Grand Prix this weekend it was more packed than I've ever seen. Daniel led us through the crowd toward the VIP section, where a number of Daniel's friends are sat.

Thankfully, Carlos was not one of the Formula One drivers sat at Daniel's table.

"Hi you guys" I try to say over the music.

"Hi y/n, how are you?" Lando Norris' voice floated over to me.

"I'm doing good. Are you ready for the race?" I ask him, meeting his hug as he walked closer.

"I am. Are you coming? I wasn't sure about it because of...well you know?" He said, trying to avoid saying the name of his former team mate.

"No, uh-" I began.

"She'll be there. With Redbull though." Daniel finished my sentence for me.

"Uh- Yeah I'll be there. I'll make sure I stop by Mclaren before the race." I say to Lando.

"hey. you want to grab a drink" Daniel whispers to me.

"yes please" I giggle as he leads me away.

"y/n, you look absolutely stunning." He says to me after ordering our drinks.

"Thanks Daniel. You look hot as always" I feel my cheeks heat at his compliment and so I compliment him back.

"I always try to look my best for you" He says, winking at me. "but, I have to ask. What's going on with you and Carlos?"

"ugh. Just the usually. We fuck and then fight and he can't commit and then gets mad at me. I told him I'm done." I huff in annoyance.

"I'm saying this to you as a friend, y/n. Carlos loves you. But he doesn't deserve you."

"And who does?"

"I can think of a few. Come dance"

....................................................................................................

Daniel and I had been dancing for multiple songs and I can feel someone's eyes on me. I turn in Daniel's arms and lock eyes with none other than Carlos Sainz. If looks could kill, Daniel would have be more than six feet under.

I merely smirk and quirk my eyebrow at him before continuing to grind on Daniel. His fingers were digging into my hips but my attention was still on Carlos.

After two more songs of suggestive dancing, Carlos sauntered over to the two of us.

"Hey man, can I steal y/n for a second." He asked, his voice surprisingly calm.

"Um.. Yea sure man" He said to Carlos before turning to me, "Come find me when you're done. I think Lando wants to do something with us and Claudia."

"I will. This won't take long" I say to him as Carlos takes hold of my arm.

....................................................................................................

Carlos essentially dragged me to the bathroom by my arm, cutting everyone in line, and slamming the door behind us.

"What the hell was that, huh?" He demanded, steam was practically coming out of his ears.

"What was what, Carlos? Dancing with a friend?" I say innocently, knowing my intentions were anything but that.

"Oh nena, we both know that it was not friendly. You were practically fucking him" He seethed.

"Maybe I was going to. Until you interrupted us, to do what exactly? ¿Lloriquear como un bebé?" I fire back at him. Now it was my turn to be angry.

"Don't act like he'd fuck you as good as me." He growls, stalking towards me.

"Oh he wouldn't? Cause I think he would. Have you seen him?" I gasp as I back into the wall of the bathroom.

"No, baby, I don't think he could. I know your body way too well" He says, his hand brushing my thigh.

"prove it." My voice coming out no louder than a whisper.

That did it for him.

And so the cycle started again when his lips enclosed mine. To say that his kiss was aggressive would be an understatement. The anger he had for me and Daniel all came out with this kiss. Carlos's hands were cemented to the wall on either side of the bathroom wall. I let his tongue slip past my lips and take full control. My hands flew to his hair as one hand squeezed my throat and the other slipped under the hem of my dress.

"Carlos.. please" I whimpered as his fingers slipped past my panties.

"Qué amor, qué necesitas" He whispers, fingers toying with my clit.

"Tú Carlos, te necesito" I moan out, fingers flying to his hair.

I flip us around and fall to my knees in front of him, his mouth open is surprise. My hands find the zipper to his pants and yank them down with his boxers. Biting my lip, I gaze up at him through my lashes. One thing I can always do is make Carlos fall apart with that look.

As I settle on my knees, I spit on my hand and begin to stroke him slowly. His moans fill my ears as I finally take him in my mouth. Carlos's hands tangle themselves in my hair, pulling it away from my face. As I bob my head, I lock eyes with him again. He is trying to hold himself back from fucking my mouth, not that he hasn't done that before. But before he lost control, the grip on my hair tightened. He gently pulls me off of him and pulls me up to his level.

"I love your mouth....but I need to be in you, amor" He growled, turning me to face the mirror and pushing me over the bathroom counter.

He slips a condom on and I feel him line himself up. A moan escapes my lips and he pushes himself inside me. He begins to move and his pace is relentless. Carlos was never gentle but this was more rough than before. My name slips past his lips and he continues to thrust into me. His hand minds my hair again and pulls me up.

"Look at yourself, putita. You think Daniel can make you feel like this" He growled in my ear.

I stare at myself and him in the mirror and simply moan as he keeps up the pace he's set.

"I said look at yourself, y/n" He says, grabbing my chin with his other hand.

"No no, he couldn't Carlos" I gasp, the pleasure and pain mixing to form a deadly combination.

His hand left my chin and found purchase on my clit again. With his hand on me and him in me, I began to feel a familiar tightness beginning to takeover my body.

"Oh Carlos" I moan out, "I'm close"

"Let go." He commands, his hand moving faster.

I come with a loud moan, my mouth hung open in pleasure, no sound coming out. Carlos keeps thrusting before I feel his hips stutter and he cums after me.

"Ay, fuck y/n. You're perfect" He groans, pulling out and helping me clean up.

"You fuck good Carlos but we aren't getting back together." I hiss at him before stalking out of the bathroom, leaving him standing there.

#carlos sainz x reader #f1 x y/n #daniel ricciardo x reader #f1 x you #f1 smut #formula one

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swiftieblyth · 28 days

Text

Director’s Daughter

warnings- fluff, kinda protective dad, toxic coworkers, online hate, panic attack

a/n- sorry it took so long! My writers block had been really bad lately:( hope you guys like it!

Tom was on set looking around when his eyes fell upon you. You, the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. You looked so beautiful and majestic just looking around. He had never seen you before and wondered what you were doing on set. He thought you could be lost so he walked up to you.

“Hi,” he smiled, sticking out his hand to shake yours. “I’m Tom.”

“I’m Y/N.” You smiled, shaking his hand.

“I haven’t seen you here before, is there anything I can help you with?”

“No, I’m just looking around. But thank you. What do you do?”

“Oh, I’m an actor. I’m actually the lead.”

“Oh, that’s you! My dad speaks very highly of you!”

“Oh, he does?” Tom asked. “Who’s your dad?”

You went to answer but before you could you heard your dad.

“Y/N!” The director smiled, walking up to you and giving you a hug. “How are you? Did you get here alright?”

“Yes, Dad.” You smiled, pulling away from the hug. “I miss you! How are you doing?”

“I’m doing very well, honey. How’s work, going?”

You cringed at his comment, not wanting to tell your dad that you got fired and pretty soon you will be out of money.

Tom seemed to notice your reaction and quickly improvised to quickly change the subject, making a note to possibly ask you later. “Oh, I didn’t realize you were Y/N, as in his daughter, Y/N.”

You smiled at him, grateful for the changing of subjects.

“Tom, I see you’ve met my pride and joy!” Your dad smiled. “Say, why don’t we all go out to lunch?”

💜💜💜

“So, Y/N,” your dad started. “What have you been up to?”

“Oh, not much.” You let out. “But it seems like you’ve been busy.”

“Yes, well we’re about to rap up! He smiled. You loved watching your dad talk about what he loves doing.

“That’s amazing, Dad!” You smiled, taking a sip of your wine.

Your dad was about to say something when his phone went off. He looked at it and saw who it was. “Oh, sorry, I have to take this.”

“Of course.” You smiled. Your dad smiled, kissed your head then walked off answering the phone.

“Can I ask you something?” Tom asked.

“Depends on what it is. I might have had to much to drink.”

“You haven’t even finished your first glass.”

“I very rarely drink so it might just be enough to make me talk.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. But may I proceed?”

“Be my guest.”

“Why did you act weird when your dad asked you about work?”

“Oh gosh,” you nervously chuckled looking down, running your hand up your face. “Um, truth is I got fired.”

“What? Your dad told me you had this amazing job in New York, and you were the best person there.”

“Yeah, I was.” You let out. “But then some people started spilling lies about me and I got fired.”

“Thats terrible. But why don’t you want your dad to know?”

“Because then he’ll try to get involved and that’s the last thing everyone needs.”

“How so?”

“Because it will make things worse at my job, and then the press will get a hold of it and destroy him and end his career, so then both of us will ultimately be out of a job if he got involved,” you explained, glancing over at your dad.

“So what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. All my clothes are in trash bags in my hotel and I’m leasing my apartment out to people hoping to get enough money. I’m here until filming ends but after that I don’t know.”

“What if I helped you out?” Tom asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean, I won’t like make it a big deal or anything, but I live in Brooklyn so when you go back to New York, you can actually just come stay at my apartment. I have an extra bedroom that you can us!”

“Are you sure? We don’t really even know each other. We just met today.”

“True, but I’m sure by the time we’re done filming in two weeks we’ll know each other better.”

💜💜💜

He was right. The two weeks had come to an end and you and Tom were practically best friends! You didn’t want to admit it because you would be living with him but you secretly had a massive crush on him.

“What you thinking about gorgeous?” You heard Tom ask knocking you out of your thoughts.

Gosh, why did he have to call you that? Gorgeous! It just makes you want him more.

“Just life,” you replied, trying to keep your voice even.

“What about it?” His piercing blue eyes were looking at you so intently you felt like you could drown in them.

“Just my whole situation.”

“He,” he let out, cupping your cheek. You were trying so hard not blush at the contact. “You don’t have to worry about it anymore. You’re going to come stay with me until you get in a better spot.”

“But what if it takes too long?”

“It won’t. It doesn’t matter how long it takes you are always going to be welcome at my apartment for as long as you need, even if that’s forever.”

“Thank you.”

💜💜💜

A few weeks later (you chose how many)

You were sitting on the couch when you heard the door unlock. You looked up, smile on your face as Tom walked in.

You saw the upset and concerned look on his face as he walked in, talking to someone on the phone, making your smile fade.

“Yeah… Im home now, I’ll talk to her. Thanks, Rach.” Tom hung up and let out a sigh.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, fear all over your face.

“Have you been on Instagram at all today?” Tom asked, sitting down next to you.

“No, why?”

“You’re going to half to talk to your dad about all this.”

“What do you mean? What happened?” You asked, as Tom handed you his phone.

“Look.” He let out as he showed you all the hate posts about you.

Y/N L/N daughter of y/d/n seen walking home with actor Tom Blyth

She just got fired from her job and now she’s with Tom Blyth?

She’s such a slut!

Tom can do better

She got fired from her job for lying about herself

“Oh my gosh,” you breathed, tears streaming down your face as you struggled to breathe.

Tom took back his phone and saw that a mental breakdown was starting, and quickly pulled you to his chest.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. We’re gonna fix this.” Tom’s phone started to ring and he saw it was your dad calling him. “Shoot,” he breathed answering the phone. “Hello?”

“What in the world is going one?!” Your dad yelled.

“Mr. L/N, I’m so sorry, we should have told you-“

“How long has this been going on?”

“Sir, now’s really not a good time.” He explained glancing at you. “I promise we’ll explain everything but now’s not a good time.” He looked and saw you weren’t breathing as you shook. He put his free hand on your face and rubbed his thumb against your cheek. “Hey, darling, breathe, breathe. You gotta breathe, love.”

You looked at him as best you could, tears blurring your vision. You saw that he was taking deep breathes and you copied his actions. “That’s it,” he smiled. “Good! You’re doing great, love, that’s it. Just keep going. I’m sorry, Mr. L/N, but I’m going to have to call you back later.” Tom hung up the phone and you looked at him.

“T-Tom?”

“What is it?” He asked, heart breaking at the sound of your voice like this. “What can I do to help?”

“Hold me?”

“Of course,” he cooed, pulling you to his chest. “I’m right here. We’ll figure this out, together.”

“I can move out.” You struggled.

“What?” He asked pulling away. “No! Especially not right now, you couldn’t do that to yourself.”

“But I don’t want to make things bad for you.”

“Hey,” he breathed, tucking some hair behind your ear. “I don’t care. I’m going to be with you every step of this, okay? We’re going to fix this.”

“I love you,” you breathed, hugging him again, not even thinking about it.

“I love you to darling,” he smiled, kissing your head as he held you tight.

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cain-speaks · 9 months

Text

🍭 𝙎𝙒𝙀𝙀𝙏 𝙏𝙊𝙊𝙏𝙃 🍭 || Macaque x Reader Oneshot

» sweet tooth (cavetown) « 0:45 ─〇───── 4:07

╔⏤⏤⏤⏤╝❀╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗ AUTHOR'S NOTE ╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗❀╔⏤⏤⏤⏤╝ ➤ This is a oneshot. ➤ This is romantic. ➤ Reader uses she/her and is a cat demon, so she has cat-like features/behaviors! ➤ Described the clothes but tried to keep it simple/vague so ppl could add more details if they'd like! ➤ BRO THIS TOOK SO LONG I'M SORRY. I kinda lost the plot a few times I think,, and I got super into the shadow story,, hope this is good!! Also sorry if I switched tenses at some point, it happens rip. Also also if the kiss scene is bad I'm so sorry, I'm awkward asf LMAO. ➤ TRIGGER WARNINGS include profanity, a little bit of angst, referenced toxicity, and referenced murder. ➤ Word count: 3,494

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

❝ A sweet tooth for you, I'm wide awake .❞

Your tail vibrates excitedly as the timer goes off, alerting you that the mango pudding is done chilling. Grinning widely, you almost run to your fridge, throwing open the door and crouching to pull the cool dessert out. You take a deep whiff as you wander back to the counter, shutting the fridge door with a bump of your hip. It smells heavily, and an experimental shake of the pan leads you to believe the sweet treat has successfully set.

You set down the mango pudding and turn to the dishes, rinsing them in the sink and leaving them in the basin to be thoroughly cleaned later. As you scratch a particularly stubborn splash of dried pudding from the whisk, you look over at your oven, squinting to read the numbers displayed.

5:47.

"Oh, cow-milk," you hiss under your breath, finishing up with the whisk and nearly tossing it into the basin.

I'm going to be late! you fret as you pull off your apron, throwing it upon the counter as you rush to your bedroom to pull on your outfit: a simple white turtleneck under a soft long-sleeve and high-waisted plaid pants, complemented with long socks and short, buckled heels. Once you finish with your outfit and additional accessories, you grab a basket on your way out of your room and quickly fill it with cutlery, cubed mangoes, sugar, and of course, the pudding.

You pause for a second, ears flicking about as you try to make sure you haven't forgotten anything. Your time is cut short as another alarm sings on your phone, titled Get The Fudge to Mac's!

You squeak, shoving your phone into your pocket and spinning on your heel as you race out of your home, narrowly keeping the basket from slapping against your side.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

You're fairly certain the only reason Macaque doesn't snap at you slamming the dojo doors is because he heard you coming.

He's curled up on his couch, a hefty book in his lap—probably about something medicinal or floral if you had to guess. Your eyes flicker to his face, scowling as you see his signature smirk, golden-brown eyes scanning your hunched-over figure in amusement.

"Look what the cat dragged in," purrs the demon.

"You—hah—think you're soooo funny," you grit out, shuffling to the couch with a glare.

"When have I ever been wrong?" Macaque asks.

The monkey slaps his tail across your face before you can recite the "a" portion of your alphabetized list.

"How come you're so late today?" he teases. "Normally you're here before I am."

You roll your eyes and give a half-hearted bite to the demon's tail, barely grazing the fur, but he pulls it away with a narrowed gaze anyway. You give him a dramatically sweet face, fluttering your lashes as you set your basket on the table.

You make a lazy gesture at it. "I made something for us."

"Oh?" Macaque asks, cocking an eyebrow. "How romantic, starlight."

For a split second, you consider letting your embarrassment at the implication get to you. But then you decide if Macaque wants to be a little evil, you may as well join him.

"Only the best for you, moonflower," you coo back, revelling in the way the black-furred monkey's face heats up around his spiked mask. You immediately laugh at his blush, far more elated at your ability to fluster the stoic demon than you think is normal, adoring the way his ears wiggle as though trying to hide his face.

"Laugh it up, kitty," he grumbles, reaching out for the basket.

You lunge forward and smack his hand before his claw tips so much as brush the handles. "Nu-uh! That's for after dinner, loser."

Macaque frowns and squints at you, shaking his hand and blowing on it in classic dramatic theater kid fashion. "What are you, five?"

"Out of five~!" You sing-song, scooping up the basket as you jump to your feet. "Now get cooking, Macaroni."

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

When Macaque announces the food's almost done, you decide to raid his wardrobe for pajamas.

You zoom up the stairs before he can say a word, but to your surprise, he doesn't make so much as a sigh as your thundering footsteps fade into his room.

It's weird. Normally Macaque always whines about you snagging his clothes, complaining about the pastry stains or endless amounts of cat hair that ends up on them—which is a small price to pay when you're constantly making him yummy treats! But tonight he's oddly quiet.

Come to think of it... he's been acting off for a while.

You noticed it last month. Your time spent with the monkey had turned more physical—training, teaching you how to make certain foods, dancing, cuddling. And amongst his standard sarcasm and snark, he was complimenting you a lot more, too. You'd even started finding little trinkets around your house! So unless some other purple-coded weirdo was breaking into your house to leave you jewelry and pretty flowers, it had to be Macaque.

But on the other hand, Macaque seemed to be... distancing himself. A canceled plan here and there, an excuse to leave the room every now and then, a strange new sense of secrecy within the demon, as though he was guarding something from you. As if he was afraid of you coming too close all over again.

It was so confusing. If you allowed yourself to consider that the demon had fallen for you of all people, what were you supposed to make of his behavior? That he hated the idea of loving you so much that he was deciding between making a game of it or completely pushing you away?

The thought strikes you right in the chest, your bottom lip falling victim to your sharp teeth.

Just recently you'd come to terms with just how much you really like the monkey—how much you love the sound of his voice and the way he drags you into trouble and his devotedness to you as a friend. It'd been an earth-shattering realization, really, one that left you tossing and turning in bed and damn near ripping your fur out.

How could you be blamed? Macaque was hardened like stone in the aftermath of his past, resulting in a closed-off and apathetic creature, a lone wolf in spite of his nature. It'd taken so, so much time and patience to get to where you two were now, laughing and poking fun at each other in his dojo, his safespace.

The last thing you want is to lose everything because your silly heart loves tragedies.

"Starlight!" Macaque's sharp call comes from downstairs, making you jump. "The hell are you doing? I said dinner's done!"

"Ack—I'm coming, just a minute!"

You quickly throw on a loose shirt and shorts, struggling a bit with the hole for your tail before finally settling the limb and bounding out of the room. Immediately, an aroma of deliciousness hits your nose. You almost stumble down the stairs due to the distraction, righting yourself with an embarrassed flush (boy, are you glad Macaque didn't see that) and carefully making your way into the kitchen.

Your eyes widen at what you see. A large bowl of chǎofàn sits at the table, neighbored by a plate of tángcù lǐjǐ and another of xiǎolóngbāo. The scent is divine, and you would call the meal a gift from Buddha if it weren't for the smirking demon leaning against the counter.

"Like what you see?" he asks cockily, tail sweeping against the ground in a lazy sway.

"No way you just made all of this!" you exclaim, grinning.

"Maybe I'm just that good," replies the black-furred monkey with a wink, fetching two plates and some silverware out of various cupboards and drawers.

"Not that good," you snort, fetching your basket from the fridge. "Come on, what's the trick this time, moonflower?"

The demon falls strangely silent at your question. You raise an eyebrow at his back, waiting for a response. Finally, in an uncharacteristically small voice, Macaque says, "I've been preparing."

There's more to it. There's definitely more to it, but you won't push.

You set the basket down on the floor and take the plate held out to you, happily filling it up before moving to your seat. Macaque joins you on the opposite side, silent save for the short scraping sound of silverware against glass. The uncomfortable silence threatens to spoil your appetite, and you spend a few quiet minutes praying that the demon across from you will say something.

"Is it good?"

Thank Buddha, you think, immediately put at ease to hear his voice.

"Duh," you say, swallowing another forkful of delicious food. "Your cooking is some of the best I've ever had."

"Oh really?" Macaque leans forward on his elbows, hands laced under his chin, and you feel your face warm ever-so-slightly. "Then where do I rank, starlight?"

"Top ten at least," you tease, reaching for more chǎofàn. Macaque unlaces a hand to pick up the bowl and pass it to you.

"At least," he chuckles. "Well, eat up. I have a play to put on."

"A play?" You repeat, cheeks round with rice.

Macaque nods. "Yes." Quickly, he adds, "for you."

You very nearly make a quip about the romance of dinner and a show, but seeing his tail tense and thud against the floor makes you reconsider.

Instead, you smile. "I'll be there."

The monkey snorts. "Better be. If you stand me up for rice and chicken, I'll never make it again."

You fake an angry grumble. "Don't you have to go prepare, smart guy?"

He blinks. Once. Twice.

"Oh," he says, simply at first. Then his eyes widen. "Oh, yes! I have to—there are things I have to—I'm going now." Macaque cuts his rambling short and just barely avoids sprinting out of the kitchen like his tail is on fire.

"Don't—" you cringe at the sound of something falling, followed by a quiet yelp. "—hurt yourself on the way out..."

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

You sit amongst soft blankets and pillows, tails curled around your knees as you wait for the play to start. The light of Macaque's lantern bathes the dojo in a violet hue, shadows dancing with the sway of the lantern as Macaque gets into position. The monkey's innate shadow powers and connection to the lantern make it easy to manipulate it and the dark for his purposes, so part of you is confused that Macaque settles himself so far away from you. You reason that maybe the demon's just feeling extra dramatic for this story.

Or maybe this is it, you think.

Even if you don't know what that means.

"Welcome viewer, to a shadow play the likes of which have never been seen."

You smile at the signature opening line, a soft purr rumbling in your throat as you listen closely, ears perked in Macaque's direction.

"Here we follow another tale about the tragic Warrior." Macaque's voice reverberates around you, and you watch as a simplified silhouette of hi—ahem, "the warrior" manifests from the shadows. "Though this story is unlike the others—for instead of our Warrior bearing yet another arduous chapter of life, perhaps he has found his happy end.

"Everyone knows the tale of how the Sun came to betray the Moon. But what very few have to come to learn is that it was the moon that brought on such a tragedy. You see, many centuries ago, the Moon could only see their dark side—blemished, indecipherable, and lacking in light. So often the moon thought of their dark side and wept, believing that if it was all they saw, it was all anyone could see. And then the Moon realized something. They were the Sun's only companion, their only friend, so surely, surely, the Sun would give their light to them.

"And at first, the Sun did everything they could to show the Moon just how bright they could be. The Sun taught the Moon everything they knew, and the Moon took that knowledge and taught it to others, becoming a beloved warrior. And when the Moon became the Warrior, they changed the Sun into a Hero—a well-shaped, perfect vessel of holiness and goodness.

"The Sun allowed for this because they loved the Warrior, so they locked themselves within the Hero. And while the Warrior loved the Hero very much, they were so blinded by the love of their light that they didn't see what they were doing to their beloved Sun.

"Years passed and the Warrior had taken almost every bit of sunlight. Only their heart and a small sliver remained, which the Sun branded on to the Hero's golden cudgel and hid beneath stone so the Warrior could not find it. This angered the Warrior, who still could not see what they'd done to the Sun, for they were so hidden within the Hero. He said, "my hero! Why do you hide your light from me? Is it not mine, too? Have I not helped you shine?"

"The Hero replied, "I hide nothing from you, my Warrior, certainly not our light. I simply have no more to give you."

"The Warrior was displeased, and this displeasure, coupled with the dimming Sun, poisoned their light until nothing remained but a thin halo around the two of them.

"This terrified the Warrior—to see that they were so close to becoming the Moon again, so close to being consumed by their dark side, that they demanded the Hero give them their heart. Only this time, the Hero refused.

""You are not a hero," spat the Warrior. "And you are no longer a warrior," whispered the Hero. The Warrior was so angry, so enraged, that they attempted to swallow the Sun itself. They peeled away the Hero's stone body to reveal the blazing heart beneath, fully intent to rob them of every last bit of light they had, even if it meant they'd never shine again.

"The Sun broke free of the Hero's perfect body, and, using the light on the golden cudgel, banished the Warrior to a place of no light. No stars. No song. Only darkness.

"A place where the Warrior and the Moon would blend in perfectly."

While you've never heard the story portrayed this way, you find it heartbreakingly easy to tell he's talking about his death and descent into Diyu. You fiddle with your hands, pressing on the paw pads as you stare, watching the Warrior turn into wisps as a glowing mass of shadows (the Sun?) forms into a tendril and strikes them.

It's almost too much to watch, your brain caught up in what preceded Macaque's death. Is this why he's been so nervous? It would make sense—the version of the tale makes him vulnerable to say the least, and it's oozing with painful, regretful honesty. Macaque may not be a liar, but the truth has never been easy for him.

The scene changes, shifting in a quick montage.

"For centuries, the Warrior rotted in their anger and sorrow. So angry were they that they allowed themselves to be hung from strings like a simple puppet, used as a weapon to harm undeserving victims."

Flashes of burned and otherwise destroyed villages wrap around the dojo, all with a chained Macaque hovering above, eyes burning. The last image you recognize as the Monkie Kid and his group. A shadowy tendril wraps around the kid's limbs, attached to him in a similar way to Macaque's chains. Your stomach twists.

"Even when the Warrior finally forgoed their wrath and reconciled with the Sun, they still could not find it in them to shine. They'd ruined the Moon many years ago, and now the Warrior was ruined, too.

"...or so they thought. One day, the Warrior came across a maiden. She was gentle and wild, comforting and unapologetic, unwavering and bold. She was a river, a storm, a mountain who stood unblinking before the weight of the Warrior's darkness.

"The Warrior thought they were doomed to break her, as they so often did to strong things. But then the Maiden produced a mooncake from her robes, split it in half, and said, "Would you share this treat with me, O' weary Warrior?""

A feminine silhouette appears before the Warrior, dressed in a flowing hanfu and flowers. Most interestingly, the Maiden has tufted ears and a long, fluffy tail just like—

Your face erupts in a shocked blush as understanding dawns on you. The first time you met Macaque, you'd been out selling mooncakes. It'd been a good day, and by the end you had a single treat left, which you fully intended to scarf down while watching the sun set. But then you'd seen Macaque, leaning against a bridge and watching the reflection of the sun in the river, and he just looked so sad, you thought a mooncake would add a little brightness to his face.

A pity cake it might have been, but you think it was one of the best pity cakes you've ever had.

"The Warrior took the Maiden's gift. Together, the two ate at their cakes until they were naught but crumbs and the sun had long set. Before they parted, the Maiden smiled at the Warrior.

"And the Warrior glowed.

"The Warrior glowed so bright that moonlight shown through the cracks in their skin, that stars came down to twinkle in their fur and they could hear the sweetest dreams whispering in their ears, and all they said was "Mooncake Maiden" over and over again, for the Warrior had finally found someone to glow for, not because of."

You almost bust out laughing, a mix of adoration, shock, and amusement bubbling in your chest. "Mooncake Maiden", huh? Maybe you should start a business.

"For weeks, the Warrior and the Maiden continued to meet. The Warrior continued to glow, feeling more and more like the great warrior they once were. They even began to think of themselves as the moon again, not as an imperfect surface, but as a new vast and complicated world, one they wanted to explore by the side of the Maiden. All they had to do was ask her."

The shadows merge into a single ball, gliding towards you and settling before you. The ball reforms, revealing Macaque kneeling in front of you, your hands held gently in his. But what really catches your eye is his glamor—or lack thereof. His six ears, the reason for his namesake, unfurl from his head like flower petals, glowing shades of blue, pink, and purple that illuminate both of your faces. His fangs elongate past his bottom lip and a white halo of fur surrounds his face, shimmering in the gentle light.

His eye, blind though it may be, is milky and spotted like the bright side of the moon and you can't help but think it's the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen.

"And now to discover how this story ends," he says softly.

"Macaque—" you begin, only to fall silent when he squeezes your hands.

"I know I'm not a hero," Macaque says. "I think I might always be a little evil—a trickster, a bit of a thief, a bully every now and then; a shadow of something good. But you make me feel... real. Like I can be something more, something people can love and adore without getting hurt, and I haven't felt that in a long, long time, starlight."

You blink, feeling something wet tease the corner of your eyes. Your heart thumps in your chest, tail unfurling from your knees and reaching out. Macaque meets it halfway and they curl around each other like ribbons.

"I love you," whispers the Six-Eared Macaque. Louder, he says it again, and you shiver when he says your name. "I love you, and if you'll have me, I'll be yours for eternity."

Your mouth feels dry, your body nearly numb with—what, shock? Excitement? Happiness? Exhaustion because you're feeling all the things? Probably.

But still, your heart swells at the confession and your hands slip from his to cradle his face and you say, "I love you too, Macaque."

Macaque grins, eyes shining wetly. His hands go to your cheeks, thumbs brushing under your eyes. His ears flap against your hands for a second, and then he whispers, "can I kiss you?"

Your heart nearly explodes. But you give nothing away as you utter a soft, "yes."

You're not quite sure what to expect when his lips meet yours. Fireworks, or maybe like a puzzle piece is shifting into place. You think you can safely say you feel neither, but you do feel both of your growing smiles, until you're pulling away to laugh and Macaque follows suit.

When your giggles die down, you pet the demon's ears again. "You wanna have dessert now?"

The black-furred monkey huffs, leaning into your touch. "In a minute," he murmurs, and then he's bringing you back to his lips.

❝ I like you—say it back .❞

#cain speaks #[ 🧨 ]#cain writes #[ 🩸 ]#lmk liu er mihou #lmk six eared macaque #six eared macaque x reader #lmk macaque #macaque x reader #lego monkie kid #lego monkie kid x reader #lego monkie kid x y/n #monkie kid #monkie kid x reader #lmk #lmk x reader #lmk x y/n

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chris-corner · 1 year

Text

Consolation Prize - Part 2

Pairing: Max’s Sister Reader x Lewis Hamilton

Summary: After ignoring you for the whole winter break, Lewis is back for the new season and sees you flirting with someone else. Combined with his frustrations at the underperformance of the W13 and Max taking the lead once again, he just has to show you who you actually belong to.

Warnings: 18+, sorry guys more hate-fuelled sex but slightly less angry, jealousy sex, just a bit (probably a lot) toxic, fingering and getting eaten out, overstimulation, unprotected sex, light bondage (hands tied to bed), under-negotiated kinks stillI guess, some spitting and slapping.

Notes: Look… I really was going to do a fixit but also there's lots of cute Lewis fics out there and I kinda love the toxic vibes so Im sorry but also not sorry for writing this. Also its filth.

Word Count: 4624

Part 1

Masterlist

The winter break, you have to admit, was pretty fucking painful. You’d sat waiting for a text you were pretty sure was going to come for the first week or so. After all, it was all such a mess that you were sure Lewis would reach out, and then maybe the tight churning feeling in your chest would stop. Maybe then you could talk through what happened and try and figure out a way to move forward. Sure, it still hurt, but you could understand that it was the heat of the moment and Lewis wasn’t in the best mindset, and neither were you.

When a week passed and you’d still not heard anything you started to panic. After everything you’d been through you thought that you would come out of this okay, that your friendship, your… whatever you were becoming, would mean more to Lewis than this.

By the time the new season starts, you’re done being sad about it, instead letting the anger curl up and make a home in your chest. Fine, if he wants to act like a dickhead then whatever. You try and convince yourself you don't care, and for the most part it works. You’re not your brother, and if Lewis can’t see that then fuck him.

Still, when you walk down the paddock on your way to see Max for the second race of the season, your Red Bull jacket half hanging off your shoulders, you can’t help but panic about seeing him. What if he looks at you, what will you do? What if he wants to talk to you? What if he ignores you? The questions won't stop swirling around your head and you’re so close now to passing the Mercedes garage.

In a desperate move, you spot a Red Bull mechanic also heading your way and you quickly make your way over to him, introducing yourself and slipping your arm into his, linking your bodies together. He looks a little surprised, but doesn’t seem to mind. You’re Max’s little sister, there's a lot you can get away with.

It’s so hard not to look over at the garage to see if Lewis is there, but you manage it, laughing a little louder than necessary at whatever the guy, whose name you’ve already forgotten, is trying to say.

If you had, you’d have seen Lewis look up as soon as he heard your laugh, eyes tracking you until you were out of sight, his jaw clenched as he took in the sight of your linked arms and matching Red Bull logos.

Honestly, the guy (whose name you still can’t remember but it’s too late to ask now) isn’t all too bad, and you find yourself going along with the back and forth chat that’s been bordering on flirting. He’s new, you find out, and single, you also find out, and not too bad on the eyes. Still, it’s not like he’s Lewis. You can’t help but feel a stab of pain as the thought crosses your mind but the anger rises in you again and you find yourself flirting a little harder.

Part of you worries it might be a little cruel to string him on like this, but another part of you figures that you probably should work on moving on from whatever that shitshow with Lewis was, and even though it would probably piss Max off, why not this guy. (You don’t even let yourself think about how mad he’d be if he knew everything that went down last season.)

It just happens to be perfect luck that the few times you see Lewis over the weekend are the times in which the dude is really trying his best to flirt with you, and if you lean into it a little bit when you catch him looking who can blame you.

It all comes to a head when someone grabs you by the arm and roughly pulls you into a side room as you’re making your way to meet Max at the media pen.

“What-” You start, shoving the arm off of you before you realise who it is.

Lewis.

He looks at you, jaw clenched, and you feel your breath leave you. God you want him so badly, still, after everything. He’s in his white mercedes shirt, clashing with your Red Bull team jacket, and his hand is still gripping your arm.

“What are you doing?” He asks sharply, his voice low.

You take a breath, composing yourself before you say something stupid. Remembering your anger as you look at his fury.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise I needed your permission to come to races now.” You snark out.

“No.” He snaps. “What are you doing with him?”

Your eyes widen, oh. Is he jealous?

“Why do you care? It’s none of your business Lewis, you made that really fucking clear?”

He pushes you up against the back of the door, his body pressing into you as he clashes his mouth against yours, biting at your lip and before you know it you’re kissing him back, kicking yourself for giving in so quickly. He slides his knee between your legs and your breath hitches in your throat. He smirks against your lips, moving to bite at your throat as he makes his way up to your ear.

“Do you really think he can give you what you need you little slut?”

It really should feel more insulting. Your anger hasn’t fully gone away and yet here he is, acting like he has the right to be jealous, calling you a slut like this is what you do.

Instead you let out a breathy whine in the shape of his name.

Just like that he’s gone. His hands, which were around your waist, his mouth, the press of his body all gone. You stumble forward a bit, looking over to see him standing a few paces away from you, a frown still on his face.

“Come to mine, later tonight.” He says, the words coming out more like a demand.

“Fuck you Lewis.” You say back, suddenly feeling like you could cry but you refuse to give him the satisfaction.

He clocks the change and something close to guilt flashes across his face watching you shuffle to compose yourself.

“I..” He starts but you quickly interrupt him.

“No Lewis you can’t do this. You can't… after everything that happened, after you just left me like that and didn't call or text or anything.”

“I needed space.” He says, but he sounds unsure now. “Look, will you just come to mine after the race tonight, please.”

You take a breath. You’re pretty sure it’s a terrible, terrible idea but maybe you can talk it out, maybe you can work past this. “Okay Lew.” You say softly.

“Make sure nobody sees you.” He frowns and tags on, like being seen with you would be the worst possible thing in the world. You feel the stab of hurt again and quickly push it down.

Then just like that he turns and leaves, brushing his hand gently against your arm as he does with a small smile.

You hesitate before knocking, pretty sure this is a terrible decision. Max had won the race, Lewis had come p10, struggling pretty much all through the race. You know he’d seen you celebrating with Max. You made eye contact with him as the guy from earlier picked you up and swirled you in the air, letting you down in a way that brushed your whole body against his. Still, despite everything your eyes locked with Lewis.

He looked furious.

You didn't even know if his offer would still stand, and if it did, you’re pretty sure he’s not going to want to sit down and talk things out after all that.

Yet, here you are, standing in front of his door.

It’s fucked up. You know it is. You know that if you go in that it's just going to end in upset and hurt. But then again, you also haven’t been able to get the memory of his cock filling you out of your head, nor the way he slapped your ass and fucked your throat. Before you know it you’re knocking, squirming and pressing your thighs together with anticipation.

He looks surprised to see you when he finally opens the door, and you feel your heart rate spike with the thought that you might have made a terrible mistake, but he quickly grabs your arm and pulls you inside.

“I didn’t think you’d come.” He says once the doors are closed.

You take a breath. “I’m sorry about your race.”

It seems to have the opposite effect to what you wanted. His face heardens and his jaw clenches slightly.

“You seemed to be having fun regardless.” He grits out. “Why are you here? Did your mechanic not put out in the end?”

It’s needlessly cruel, but you feel yourself squirming at his words. His eyes darken as he notices, and he moves forward to crowd into your space.

“Or do you know that he can’t give you what you need like I can?”

Okay then, talking like adults is off the table, toxic sex it is.

“I distinctly remember not getting what I needed last time Lewis.” You quip, goading him with the reminder of how he didnt let you cum.

“If we’re going to do this we need a safeword.” He tells you, seemingly ignoring your dig,

It’s as close to an admission that you’re going to get. As close to him acknowledging how fucked up this is. Still, it settles something in you that despite all of this, Lewis is still Lewis under it all. He’s still the guy you fell for. That if you backed down, told him how you felt, that maybe things would be different,

Still, you don't want to take the risk, and the heat between your legs is screaming at you to stay quiet.

“Ferrari.” You say, needing something that’s not going to come up in conversation, something Lewis won’t use to dig at you when he fucks you, something thats not Mercedes or Red Bull connected.

He nods his agreement, before guiding you into the bedroom.

Your heart is racing as he wordlessly shrugs your Red Bull jacket off, placing it down on the bed before slipping your top off too. It’s almost cold and methodical but then he runs his fingers over the thin fabric of your bra and you gasp as your nipples begin to harden at the touch.

He pulls you into a kiss, biting almost bruisingly at your lip and slipping his tongue over it a second later, all the while slipping his hand down to unbutton your jeans. You help him, shimmying your trousers down and stepping out of them before pushing back up to capture his lips in yours.

It feels almost normal, almost like everything you wanted as he unhooks your bra and you let it fall between you, grabbing onto his arms and feeling the muscles flex beneath your touch.

Until it doesn't.

He pulls back just as quickly as he did earlier, leaving you standing there exposed, nipples hardening with the cool air, in just your panties.

“Get on the bed.” He instructs, voice harsh.

You scramble to comply, lying on your back and looking over at him as he grabs your jacket,

“Might as well make this thing useful.” He laughs. “Hands together above your head, grab the frame.”

You do it and he smirks down at you as he uses the arms of the jacket to tie your hands to the bed frame.

“What a sight.” He says, leaning back and admiring his work, looking at you laid out in front of him without a protest. “I almost want to take a picture.”

He looks at you, a clear question in his eyes and when you say nothing he smirks, getting out his phone and clicking a few pictures of just your hands, tied up with the Red Bull jacket clearly identifiable. He doesnt get your face or you’re body in though, and you can't help but let out a small sigh of relief.

“I wonder what the team would say if they saw that.” He teases. “Maybe I ought to send it to them, show them what a slut their golden boy's little sister is. Maybe I should send it.”

“Lewis.” You warn, but his words make you squirm. He puts his phone down but doesn't let up.

“I bet you’re getting off on this aren’t you. I bet your little pussy is soaking already.”

“Lewis.” You repeat, but this time it comes out much more of a whine.

He smirks, shoving your legs apart and manhandling you into the position he needs to settle between them. It hits something at your core, being treated like this, like a moveable little doll.

“Seen as though you didn't get to cum last time, how about we see just how many times you can come tonight.” He smirks. “I want to see you cry for me.”

“But first.” He says. “I want you to beg for it.”

He brushes his hand up your thigh, across the seam of your underwear and up to your chest. He takes his time teasing your nipples, running his fingers over them and pinching at them slightly before leaning down and taking one into his mouth. You arch your back up, moaning as he bites down before soothing it with his tongue. His other hand reaches between your legs, a feathery brush against your clothed pussy.

“Lewis please.” You cry out, trying to push up into him but he moves his hand away.

He pauses, moving to bite at your neck collar bone. “Not good enough.”

He moves over to your other nipple, repeating the process and pressing against your with a light touch again.

“Lewis I need you in me please, I need you to fuck me.”

He pinches your inner thigh, right at the seam of your underwear as he bites down a little harder on your sensitive nipple, the other still hard and cold from where his spit has been left on it.

“Lewis, come on please. I want you to fuck me. No one else can Lewis, just you. I need your cock so badly.”

He pulls of you with a smirk, running his thumbs over both of your sensitive wet nipples to see you squirm against the restraints before he moves down between your legs,

“You beg like a whore.” He tells you plainly, not even looking at you as he holds your legs apart. You feel shame welling up inside of you but it’s quickly tempered by lewis pressing against your covered pussy, watching as the fabric darkens with your wetness,

“Look at that. Soaking already. I knew you would be.”

Without much warning, he pushes two of his fingers into you, over the fabric so that the roughness pushes into you as he uses his other hand to brush over your covered fabric.

“I want you to cum like this.” He says over your moans. “I want you to cum into your panties like a desperate little toy, needy enough that you’ll cum before I can even get them off you.”

He presses into you a little harder, jamming them inside of you as he quickens his pace.

It’s embarrassing, the way his words, this situation, his fingers on and pressing into you get you worked up so quickly, but before you know it you’re cumming, soaking your panties around his fingers as you do. Red hot shame fills you at the speed it took for him to get you off, and you can feel the blush rising on your chest and face.

“Wow.” He laughs at you. “That really was quick wasn't it, you must be really desperate for it.”

He slips your underwear off, and looks at them contemplatively.

“Open your mouth.”

He balls up the soaking wet fabric and presses it into you, making you taste yourself as you lay there, tied up and fully naked, cunt dripping and your underwear shoved in your mouth. He looks at you with pure lust in his eyes.

“Actually,” He tilts his head. “I think I'd rather hear you.”

He pulls the panties out of your mouth and throws them over the side of the bed, smirking as he watches you close your mouth and taste yourself. It’s ridiculous how he’s just treating this like a game, just using you in whatever way he wants for his own amusement, like you’re just there as a little sex toy for him to position and play with until he gets exactly what he wants, no regard for how humiliating it is for you,

He spreads your legs again, gently pulling you apart so he can look at your dripping wet pussy. Then, without any warning, he leans over and spits directly onto your cunt, watching it drip down your folds and mix with your wetness.

“Fucking filthy.” He mutters following the spit with his fingers, running them down your pussy and fucking them straight into you, ignoring your gasp as he brushes over your sensitive clit.

He fucks into you with quick harsh strokes, grabbing your inner thigh with his other hand to keep you spread wide and pressed into the bed. It feels amazing to finally have him inside of you, even if it's just his fingers.

“Look at you laying there taking it. Taking whatever I give you huh?”

“Yeah.” You breath out,

He moves to thumb over your clit again, and you clench around him as you let out a high pitched whine.

“What do you say?”

“Thank you.” You gasp out as he thumbs your clit.

He smirks.

“What’s his name?”

You can't quite grasp what he’s asking, the pleasure you’re feeling under his hands almost too much. “What?”

“The mechanic you couldn't keep your hands off all weekend. What. Is. His. Name.”

He punctuates his words with thrusts of his fingers right into your dripping cunt.

“I don’t know.” You gasp out.

“You don't know?”

“No I, I think he told me …but I forgot. I don’t know.” You try.

“You don’t…” He lets out a cruel mocking laugh. “You’re such a whore, giving it up for anyone aren’t you, don’t even have to know their name.” He pauses, but his fingers don't. “Or were you just doing it to fuck with me? Is it not enough that the car is shit? Is it not enough that Max is fucking humiliating me on track? Do you have to fuck with me too? Get inside my mind and make me jealous and pissed off?”

He seems to be getting into his monologue, fucking his fingers into you faster, curling them up inside you as he brushes your clit with his thumb faster.

“If you’re such a good fucking team how about every time Max wins on the track you let me fuck your little cunt exactly how I want. That’s fair don't you think?”

Not really, you think, it’s not fair at all, it’s incredibly fucked up.

He pauses after he’s said it, hands stilling, looking at you as if he knows that he’s gone too far.

Contrary to everything you should be feeling, his words make you moan and tighten around him, so maybe you’re just as fucked yourself. At your noise he starts fucking you again, the pressure on your clit and the effect of his words pushing you to the edge. The idea is so incredibly bad but also if you got to do this more then of course you were going to take it. You came here today after all.

“Okay. Yeah.” You whine out, and without warning you feel yourself pushed over the edge, tightening around his fingers as he drags yet another orgasm from you.

“I can't believe.” He grunts out, fucking into you still as you scream his name. “That you think you’re a good enough consolation prize.”

It’s cruel, but you’re pretty sure it's just all part of the game. Although the words are sharp and cutting, there's not the same anger there was before in Abu Dhabi.

“Lewis please.” You squirm, the feeling too much for you now. Everything is too sensitive.

Instead of letting up though, he leans down and runs his tongue over your cunt, pressing into your folds and dragging against your clit hard enough to make you shout out,

He pulls away. “You’re ruining my sheets.” He comments, looking at the pool of slick beneath you, before leaning back in to suck at your oversensitive clit.

You can't help the noises that are falling out of your mouth, a mindless babble of choked sobs and whines and half formed protests. It’s surely only a few minutes at most but it feels like an hour of overstimulation before he stops again.

“Fuck. You look so fucking hot when you cry.”

You didn't even notice the tears running down your face until he pointed them out, desperate and frantic.

“What's up baby?” He mocks, voice laced with condescension. “This is what you wanted isn't it? To cum? You asked for this.”

You can't even protest anymore, just let out a choked sobbing noise as he thumbs at your clit before pressing his hot wet mouth against you again, flicking his fingers up unrelentingly as you strain against your tied hands.

“You know, I was going to make you cum again before I fucked you but I think I want to see you cry while you cum on my cock.”

He gets undressed finally, stripping out of everything this time and you look at him through tear streaked eyes, watching the way his muscles flex as he slips out of his underwear and palms his rock hard cock.

Wasting no time at all, he runs his cock up against your sensitive cunt, coating himself in your wetness while you wiggle your hips up, desperate for it both to stop and for him to fill you up. You quickly get your wish as he pushes inside of you

“Fuck you’re so tight still.” He practically growls out when he slips inside of you, despite everything the stretch of his cock still pulls at you and you throw your head back and moan at the feeling.

“Just you Lewis.” You choke out. “Just you.”

You hope he gets what you mean. That despite everything that happened you haven't been with anyone since him. You havent fucked your way around the Red Bull mechanics.

“That's my good little slut.” He praises, fucking into you hard.

He runs his hand up to your chest, palming your tits before gently slapping one, watching as it bounces under his hand.

“Fuck.” He breathes out. “Can I?”

You don't know why he's asking now, after just doing everything before this, but you can't help but smile at the wonder in his voice, the uncharacteristically gentle question.

“Please.”

He repeats the action a little harder, the sound of the slap loud in your ears as he continues to fuck into you, groaning as you tighten around him. You think he’s going to do it again but he just thumbs your nipple, rolling and pinching it between his fingers before he leans down and takes it into his mouth.

He sits back up, watching your chest bounce as he thrusts into you before pausing to spit on your other nipple, thumb immediately running through the wetness, before following it with him mouth, gently biting at it.

It’s so good that you feel yourself getting close to the edge again.

“Lewis, Lewis I’m..” You choke out, and he gets the message, pulling back and moving your legs so that they rest on his shoulders, pressing you forward as he fucks into you deeper.

He snakes his hand around to find your clit, quickly flicking between feathery touches and hard presses, unrelenting until you finally break.

This time, it's almost painful when you cum, the pleasure ripped out from your core as you clench around him, tears falling from your face as you cry out his name in a choked sob.

“There you go.” He says affectionately, then, with more bite, “that wasn't so hard was it.”

He pulls out of you and runs a hand up your cunt, collecting your wetness and watching as fresh tears fall when he rubs against your clit, your cunt shaking under his touch.

He grabs your tit roughly, smearing your own wetness on your chest. Grinning down at his work, he does it again, watching you whimper for him before he spits down on your chest for good measure.

He quickly unties your hands, directing you to hold your tits together for him, which you do even though your arms feel a little numb from being tied. He gets between you, dick still wet from your cunt, and thrusts up between your tits, fucking them as you lay there, teary eyed beneath him.

He’s just made you cum three times, using your body however he wanted, playing with you like you were just there for his amusement, a little, what did he call you, consolation prize to make him feel better. This really seals it for you, him fucking up into your tits just because he can, knowing that youll press them together like a good little girl for him, your own wetness acting as lube.

“Open your mouth,” He says, breath heavy and voice strained, and you do, letting him fuck up and brush the tip of his cock against your tongue.

That must do it for him, because before you know it he’s paining your tits and your face with him cum, groaning as he watches you take it.

It’s humiliating, you think, but mostly, mostly it’s really fucking hot.

He moves off of you, looking down at you before swiping his cum off your cheek. You briefly think it’s a rather caring move, before he shoves his fingers into your mouth for you to clean them, repeating the action until you’ve taken it all, swallowing it down like a good little slut for him.

“Shit.” He says, laughing a little as he sits back against the bed.

“Yeah.” You say a little breathless.

You sit in silence for a while, recovering with his body a warm solid presence next to you. At one point he slips his hand over yours, threading your hands together.

“You okay?” He asks eventually, his voice a little unsure.

“Yeah.” You smile up at him, tired and exhausted. “You?”

“Yeah,”

It’s not the talk you envisioned coming into this, but it’s something.

“Can I use your shower before I go?” You ask, blushing slightly.

He laughs a little, running his fingers briefly over your sticky chest. “Yeah, of course.”

When you get out of the shower, he’s not in the bedroom anymore, so you quickly get changed, stuffing your ruined panties into your pocket and grabbing your jacket.

You find him in the living room, and he watches you as you make your way towards the door.

“I meant it, you know. About fucking you every time he wins.” He says before you open the door.

So maybe you’re not as okay as you thought. Still, you can't help but be a little thrilled at the outcome.

He raises his eyes as a challenge.

“So did I.” You wink, quickly slipping out of the door before he can reply.

Looks like you’ll be coming to a lot more races this season then, you know, just in case they don’t fix those porpoising issues…

#whoops #lewis is a bit mean #pov you're max's sister #im sorry im so insane #f1 imagine #f1blr #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton smut #x reader #max verstappen #is mentioned

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magicfootballstuff · 10 months

Text

Divided (claudia pina x reader)

Summary: You and Claudia have had different approaches to the Spanish national team while the dispute with the federation is still ongoing but one thing you can both agree on is that Vilda is an asshole.

———

This is actually worse than if you’d never even been called up to the preliminary squad.

Your first thought, once you’ve got past the initial crushing disappointment of finding out that you haven’t been included in Spain’s final squad, is that you’ve got to somehow find it within you to tell Claudia that you won’t be going to the World Cup after all.

It’s been the source of quite a few arguments between you and your girlfriend over the last few months. Claudia, resolute in her decision not to return to the national team until actual change has been made, accusing you of putting your own career over your integrity. You, plagued by injuries over the last few years that saw you miss out on an under-20 World Cup and last year’s European Championships, desperate to get to a tournament, this an opportunity to be your first senior one.

The arguments haven’t had any lasting damage on your relationship, but it’s reached the point where you both actively avoid talking about the federation or the national team, just to save yourselves the hassle of another fight. You told Claudia when you were selected for the preliminary squad and left it at that, keeping emotion out of it, telling her more for the logistical purpose of informing her that you might be away for most of the summer than because you were expecting any kind of congratulations from her. As it turned out, she did congratulate you, though somewhat half-heartedly, and told you that she was happy for you. Happy, you noted, but not proud.

So that’s where you left it. Both aware of the situation, you wishing that Claudia was going with you and her wishing for you to stay at home in defiance with her, not that either of you vocalised that, in case of another argument.

But it was all for nothing. You’ve sacrificed your integrity, or so Claudia would say, and you’re not even getting the reward of a place at the World Cup.

You wish you understood why.

You played seventy-five minutes of the friendly against Panama and though it wasn’t your best game, it was still a solid performance. You bagged an assist and didn’t make any major blunders, so you rather naively hoped that you’d done enough to earn your place in the squad.

It was a bit of a shock, therefore, when Vilda called you into his office this morning to tell you that you wouldn’t be travelling to New Zealand. All he told you was that there were other players who better fit into his plans for the World Cup. No apology, not even an explanation for why you don’t fit into his squad or what you need to work on in your game to have a better chance of selection next time.

He’s an asshole, you can practically hear Claudia’s voice ringing through your head.

She’s been telling you as much for months, never shy about voicing her distaste for the man nor the many reasons why he’s unfit to lead a women’s national team full stop, least of all one of Spain’s calibre, to a World Cup.

You don’t like him either - what he lacks in compassion, he more than makes up for in unsubstantiated ego and toxic masculinity - but you were willing to try to put that aside, to be courteous and professional if it means finally getting to represent your country at a major tournament.

Now you might hate him more than Claudia does.

At least Claudia will probably be relieved. You knew that she would cheer for you if you went to the World Cup - you personally, rather than the team - but she’ll surely be happier that she doesn’t have a need to pay attention to the tournament anymore now that you’re not going.

Once you’ve processed it yourself, you FaceTime Claudia to tell her the news. Maybe slightly sadistically, you want to see her face when she finds out that she was right.

“I didn’t make it,” you admit, though you’re sure that Claudia must have known already from seeing your red-rimmed eyes that you weren’t calling her with good news. “I’m not going to New Zealand. I’m not going to play in a World Cup.”

Claudia’s eyes close, her head falls forward as she processes your words. To your surprise, she looks genuinely confused and disappointed by the news. Part of you had been expecting her to react more outwardly with an outburst of 'I told you so', to use this as proof that she had been right about Vilda and the federation this whole time.

But as divided as you’ve been in your approach to the issues with the federation and their running of the national team, you and Claudia are always going to be united in your support for each other.

“Shit, baby,” she says, opening her eyes. Her eyebrows are knit together in a frown, but there is sympathy in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say. I know how much you wanted this.”

“It is what it is,” you say, trying to pass off your disappointment with a shrug, if only to ward off a fresh wave of tears from spilling down your cheeks. “Vilda doesn’t think I’m good enough.”

“Do you want me to fly over there and punch him?” Claudia asks, with more of the emotion you expected from her. “Because I will. Right in his stupid face.”

You picture it in your head, little angry Pina marching up to Vilda with his smug smile and sending him halfway to New Zealand herself with a single punch. Maybe it would finally knock some humility into him.

“Yes please.”

“He’s an idiot,” Claudia continues her impassioned rant. “I mean, we’ve always known that, but he’s particularly stupid not to take you to the World Cup. Did he at least tell you why?”

“No,” you answer. “Just that I didn’t fit in with his plans.”

“He can shove his stupid plans up his stupid ass,” Claudia rants.

“Claudia,” you warn her, because while you agree wholeheartedly with her sentiment, your girlfriend does have a habit of getting carried away in her passion sometimes.

“What?” Claudia protests, feigning innocence as if she hasn’t threatened violence multiple times in the last few minutes. “His plans are stupid if they don’t involve you. Sure, you don’t score many goals but you got nearly as many assists as me in the league this year in half as many games after you came back from your injury. Plus, you’re fast, you’re versatile, you’re good under pressure. You’re an asset to any team.”

“You’re biased,” you counter.

“I am,” Claudia agrees. “But anybody else would say the same.”

“Not anybody,” you point out.

“Anybody but that egomaniac. You’re passionate and you’re Catalan - that’s what scares him. It’s never been about whether you’re good enough on the pitch, it’s about who you are off it.”

“I think that’s worse than if I just wasn’t a good enough footballer,” you say with a grimace. “I can always work on my game, but I can’t change who I am.”

“And the people who matter will never ask you to change. I never want you to change. I know we haven’t always agreed on this situation, but you inspire me every day. I was stubborn and I’ll continue to stand by my own decision, but you wanted to change things from the inside. You had a dream to represent Spain at a World Cup and you did everything you could to try to achieve that, even if it meant telling me to fuck off, which isn’t always an easy thing to do. I admire you for that.”

You smile at Claudia’s admission that she’s not the easiest person to come up against, something which you know all too well from the fights you’ve had during the course of your relationship.

“Now we can both tell him to fuck off.”

“I like that plan,” Claudia grins at you. “Now I can either make a voodoo doll of Vilda and we can set fire to it together when you get home, or I can start to look at vacations for just the two of us so we can forget about him and the World Cup completely.”

Claudia seems to know exactly what to say to make you feel slightly less shit. In your disappointment and heartbreak, you hadn’t considered that there is at least one benefit to not going to the World Cup - that you now get a proper summer break to enjoy with your girlfriend before pre-season starts.

“Remember when we talked about going to Greece?” you remind Claudia.

“To Rhodes? I’ll look into it,” Claudia promises you immediately. “And I really am sorry you didn’t get your dream this time. It’ll happen one day, I promise. And I’ll be right there to support you, even if I’m still not on the team with you.”

“I love you Claudia,” you blurt out.

Her eyes soften in adoration as her lips curl upwards into a smile.

“I love you too.”

#woso imagine #woso x reader #claudia pina x reader #claudia pina imagine #established relationship #fun fact: i saved this fic under the working title 'fuck you jorge vilda'

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honeybadgercomeback · 1 year

Text

Spotter

Summary: An overheard phone call leads to an invitation to spend the holidays with your gym buddy and usual spotter, Lance. But when he tells you just who he is and what his life is like, you decide that spending Hanukkah with people who like each other is so much better than anything else with your family.

Words: 4.5k

Warnings: Mentions of a semi toxic family situation, mentions of past relationships ending, mentions of cheating.

AN: Just as a warning, I’m not Jewish. I’ve done a lot of research to write this accurately, and if I made any mistakes please do let me know so I can fix it! For those who celebrate, Chag Sameach!

—

“Yeah, Mom, I get it. I understand what you’re saying. Exactly, I wouldn’t want to look sad in the back of the photos. Just let me know when they’re sending RSVPs out. I’ll talk to you soon.” You stabbed at the red end call button, throwing your head back against the wall of the gym. This was great. Just great. Because three weeks before the holidays was exactly when you wanted to be uninvited from your family Christmas.

“You ok?” You turned to see Lance, the guy who shared your gym and spotted for you when you were doing weights standing down the hallway. The Canadian had become a friend since you’d started paying too much money for the gym in Monaco because your trainer worked out of there now.

“I’ll be fine. Just holiday planning.”

“I don’t know what Christmas is like, but from the movies and what friends have said it sounds stressful.” You raised an eyebrow and he elaborated. “I’m Jewish. I get the minor holiday that people compare to Christmas because of the time of year when the only real similarities are giving presents and eating chocolate.” You laughed and he smiled at your reaction.

“That sounds about right. I was on the phone to my mom, she politely advised that I skip Christmas at home this year. My sister’s bringing her fiance home for engagement photos. Apparently I’d be a ‘distraction’ because he was my college boyfriend.” You mimicked your mother’s accent, making Lance smile this time.

“So what’s your plan? Staying here for it?”

“At home in Nice, yeah. I’m going to get some wine, some cheese, and stay at home watching crappy movies. Are you doing anything nice? Heading home yourself?”

“Yeah, I’m going to Montreal. I’ll spend Hanukkah and New Years with my dad and sister. It’ll be fun, I think Chloe’s bringing her fiance who thankfully I have never dated because that would be awkward.”

“Want to get back to work?” He grinned and followed you to the free weights as you used your frustration to hit a personal best.

Three days later you were getting off the elliptical as a hand touched your shoulder. It made you jump as you turned to yell but Lance stood there in surprise, hands up apologetically.

“I called you, I’m sorry! I thought you’d heard me.” You pulled out your earbuds and he cringed at his mistake.

“It’s fine, it’s only you. What’s going on?”

“Come home with me for the holidays.”

You stared at him in shock, watching his expression closely. It felt like a joke.

“Doesn’t Hanukkah start in like a week? Plus flights to Canada? I can’t…” You trailed off and swallowed deeply as surprise and embarrassment took over your expression. “I really appreciate it, but I don’t think I can do it.”

“Look. When we finish working out can we get a coffee and talk? Please?”

Usually you’d say no, but you’d gotten to know and trust Lance over the past year. You couldn’t help but agree with him.

Once you’d changed and tied up your hair the two of you sat in a cafe people watching. The Christmas lights glowed on the dark night and it was beautiful to see the buildings lit in white. The two of you had ordered but Lance got his credit card to the cashier before you could, insisting he’d invited you out so he was paying.

“Offering means a lot but I’ll be fine, really. I know exactly what I’m going to do for the time I’m off.” You said after taking a sip. Lance shook his head and you realised it’d be a harder battle than you expected.

“I didn’t say anything because I figured you knew. It’s rare for me to be able to go anywhere, especially here, and people not know who I am. But you don’t. Remember how I told you I drive for a living?”

“Of course I do. What, do you drive horses or something instead of a car?”

“Try Formula One cars. Lance Stroll, driver for Aston Martin Formula One team at your table.” He held out his hand for a handshake as you looked at him.

“Seriously?”

“Completely.”

You listened as he explained what he did for a job, about who his family were and how it worked. You didn’t know a huge amount about that world and listened to everything.

“So you want me to come to Montreal with you for the holidays? Seriously? I…why?” You couldn’t understand why he wanted to spend time with you.

“You don’t treat me like other people do. You treat me like a person. I figure we’re friends, and I don’t want my friend to be home alone. It’s not fair on you to spend it by yourself.”

“Are you really sure?” He took your hand and squeezed once.

“I’m positive. I already told my dad I was inviting a friend to come with me. Chloe’ll be there with her fiance. It’ll be really nice to have someone there whose life doesn’t revolve around sports you need to wear protective equipment for. Scotty’s a snowboarder.” He quickly added the last sentence when you raised your eyebrow.

“I guess I’m going with you.”

You organised to work from home for the week before Christmas so you could go, and the morning of your flight you were packed and ready to go. Lance arrived at your apartment building in an SUV with a grin, taking your suitcase to put in the car before you could do it yourself. Instead of the usual terminal you flew out of he pulled up to a smaller building. The two of you went through quickly and got your passports checked before being directed to a tiny plane. It took a few moments for everything to hit you that you weren’t getting a flight to Paris and a connection.

“Lance. Seriously?” He smiled at your exasperated tone and pulled you to the quickly opening door.

“It was easier than trying to organise connections that worked. C’mon.”

You settled into the plush leather seat with a bottle of water in front of you as the pilot left the cockpit to fill you in on the flight plan and times. There’d be a stop off in Gander to clear passport control, but otherwise it was an easy flight. You let the news wash over you as you pulled out your work laptop to check the models you were working on.

“What’re you doing?” Lance asked once the plane was airborne, pulling out his own tablet to work.

“Carbon fibre designs. I work on aviation design and fuel burn, we’re looking at how it degrades over time and how long it can go without extra maintenance.”

“Want to see it snap at ridiculous speeds?” You smiled and he turned the tablet to show you a video of two cars colliding. One went up on its rear wheels and landed hard on the ground before continuing, but the other spun multiple times as the wheel rolled away. It was badly damaged and you stared at the debris on the roadway.

“That’s normal for Formula One?” You asked but Lance shook his head.

“It was my fault, I shouldn’t have over out the way I did. I was in the green car.”

It hit you what he did for a living and you shook your head, staring at the way so many cars had weaved around him to avoid hitting him.

“You’re crazy. Actually crazy.” He laughed and the two of you split an overly large sandwich, settling into doing your own work while you flew.

Landing in Gander was freezing. You were in a thick coat as the two of you ran off the plane through the snow flurries into the customs building. Your details were checked and everything was confirmed before they stamped your passport to let you through. While you were waiting to get back to the plane Lance’s name was called, two people running up to join you.

“We got a flight up here, figured we could hitch a ride the rest of the way? Scotty just finished his competition so we’re only getting in now.” The woman spoke, holding her hand out to you. “I’m Chloe, Lance’s sister. This is my fiance, Scotty. I heard the two of you are gym buddies? Please tell me you have gossip on Lance.”

The rest of the flight was fun, the four of you laughing and joking as Scotty showed you and Lance videos from his snowboarding contest. He was clearly talented and you both clapped at the podium video. But once you landed in Montreal your nerves started to get the best of you while you all made your way to a car. Lance again insisted on putting your case in and you sat on the back seat with Scotty as the heater ran for you.

Lance and Chloe had the front seats and you spent the drive looking out the window at the snowy vista surrounding you. Scotty squeezed your arm and you turned to him.

“It’ll be fine. Lawrence is really nice, I was terrified my first time here,” he murmured so the siblings couldn’t hear. You squeezed his arm in thanks without saying anything.

The house you arrived to was large, and Lance took your case in one of his hands as you all made it up the shovelled out drive. A tall man appeared as you made it inside, wrapping Lance and Chloe in a hug. He shook Scotty’s hand before holding it out for you to take.

“I’m Lawrence, Lance’s dad. It’s nice to meet you.” You shook it firmly while introducing yourself to him and getting a smile.

“Lance mentioned that you were coming with him, nobody should be alone at this time of year. We’re glad you could be here.”

It didn’t take long for you to be shown to a guest room and you put your bag away. Once you came downstairs it was almost dark, everyone gathered in the kitchen. You watched as the menorah in the middle of the table was lit and three prayers were said, nodding along the same way Scotty did. It was sweet to see and you felt included in it despite not understanding the words.

Once it was lit the five of you stayed in the kitchen, watching Chloe and Lawrence fry latkes and everyone shared stories about the year that had been. Lance taught you how to play dreidel with his arm around your shoulder as you spun the wooden toy. When it landed on gimel the table pushed the pile of chocolate over to you, making you laugh. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had so much fun at any kind of family event, or even if it had happened before. The days had work in the mornings before you and Lance exercised in the gym and in the evenings the menorah was lit and the five of you spent the evening together. You had been worried that it would be fussy and you’d be unwelcome, but instead it was calm and relaxing.

The morning of day four you were curled up in the living room with your laptop on your thighs as Lawrence came in.

“Busy day?” He asked and you smiled with a shrug.

“Just trying to work some aerodynamics out. We’re looking at making small changes to winglets for fifty to seventy seater planes to increase fuel efficiency and decrease emissions. But the financial gains are so minimal compared to the installation cost that a lot of companies aren’t interested.

“What exactly is it that you do?”

You went through the work you did on moulding carbon fibre for small passenger planes to improve how they flew and reduce emissions. Your job was to make sure that whatever you did was aerodynamically sound, and the most recent prototype you’d worked on had just been approved by the FAA and EASA for use in two of your biggest markets.

“You presented it to the regulators?” Lawrence fixed you with his gaze, interested in everything you were saying.

“I didn’t really have a choice, someone had to present and I know it best. But I enjoy the work and explaining it to people. There’s a lot that we can do to make little changes to improve the world.”

“That makes sense. Have you always worked on planes?”

“I used to work on trains too. My bachelors is in applied physics, and my masters is in aerodynamic engineering. I like working out how to make things work more efficiently and use less energy. Hence this, it’s the final slide I have to check for the year.”

“Then I should let you get back to it. I was going to order some pizzas for dinner tonight, does that work for you?” He smiled as he stood up and you smiled back in acceptance, your attention returning to if the mock up could be sent to the 3D printer so you could have a design prototype ready when you were back in January.

Things between you and Lance were shifting. It was strange, but it was good. At least you thought so. When the four of you sat and watched a movie he sat beside you on one couch as Chloe and Scotty sat on the other curled up together. The two of you moved closer to each other as the days went by until his arm started going around you to pull you to him. The first night it happened he held you tight as Die Hard played. You and Scotty had the argument about if it was a Christmas film while the Stroll siblings looked on and laughed at your antics. It was fun and there was near constant flirtation and you were terrified that if anything happened you’d have to leave early. But things were good and you wanted them to stay that way.

Which meant you should have known that everything would come careening down around you.

It was the morning of day six of Hanukkah and you stood outside with a coffee firmly clasped in your hands. The other three were having a snowball fight as you laughed but once Chloe threw one at you staying away was a lost cause as you jumped in. The four of you ran and laughed like kids until the loud tone of your cell ringing interrupted the shouts. You pulled it out and frowned, trudging back to the porch to answer it.

“Hey Mom.”

“Honey, when is your flight getting in? We’re at the airport and the one you’re usually on came and went but you didn’t arrive. Did you need to change to a later one?”

You checked your watch and shook your head, taking a sip of now cold coffee before you spoke.

“I’m not coming home. It’s like you asked, you didn’t want me interrupting the engagement photos and making a scene because my sister is marrying my ex boyfriend.”

“You should have known that wasn’t what we meant for you to do! It was that you should leave early instead of waiting until January. That was all.”

Your anger was rising and you just wanted to hang up, but you didn’t want to disturb everyone else. You didn’t realise that Lance had been listening in, and as soon as you said “mom” he was on his way over to you.

“Well you didn’t make that clear. I’m spending the holidays with friends and I’m happy. Your presents are in the mail, I paid extra so they should arrive on time. I’ll fly home in January to see people then.”

“What will people say? You need to be here or someone will make a comment about you not being here for family. You can’t—“

“Can’t what? Can’t tell my mother that I’m doing what she said I should do? Can’t come home for Christmas because you’re afraid I’m going to make a scene? Have to be invited to spend time with people so they don’t think I’m totally alone? Can’t see my childhood friends because I’m going to hear the “oh you poor thing” crap again and again? I’m doing what I need to do for myself. It’s not fair to act like I’m the one at fault here when I’m the one who brought someone home for Christmas one year and found him in bed with my sister! So if I can’t be there because you don’t want the stories or discussion then let me be where I can at least pretend I’m happy with people who like me for me.”

“Baby, are you coming back?” Lance called loudly from beside you which made you turn and look. Chloe and Scotty were just beside him and it was clear that they’d heard your mini rant. Lance winked and you decided to play along.

“Yeah, just let me finish this call!”

“Who’s there? Who are you with?” It was clear the unfamiliar accent had confused her.

“I’m with people I care about and who care about me. That’s what matters. I’ll call you Christmas Day.” You hung up the phone and leaned back before Lance put his arm around you and pulled you in for a hug.

“Everything ok?” He asked and you took a deep breath before shaking your head.

“She thought I was coming home after the last time we spoke. Because definitely, of course I’m coming home to see them. Of course.”

His arms tightened around you to hold you close as you leaned against him for a few moments. You felt his hand move your hair so he could whisper into your ear.

“I let them know the basics of what happened. I didn’t want to say everything, that’s your business, but they were worried.”

“Thank you.” You smiled up at him, his brown eyes sparkling and comforting. When the two of you separated Chloe and Scotty insisted on a hug before shepherding you inside out of the cold. Chloe began melting chocolate to make luscious hot chocolates for you all, laughing as Scotty and Lance both started worrying about what it would do to their meal plans. Everyone made you smile and you told stupid jokes as Lance showed some of what he called his stupidest race moments on YouTube to make you laugh.

That night the five of you were back in the kitchen to light another candle. Lance was the one who took control of lighting it and saying the prayer, the words washing over you again. Instead of just the menorah there was more prayers for the Sabbath and another candle lit. Lance murmured that they were mostly doing it because of Hanukkah but you just smiled and leaned in. There was more fun and laughter, playing games as everyone sat and enjoyed. Lance was glued to your side for the entire evening, his arm on your waist pulling you close. The dark blue sweater he wore was soft against you as you stayed glued to him, his hand on your hip as you said goodnight. The two of you ambled up to the bedrooms, Lance still holding onto you.

“This has been a lot of fun. Thanks for inviting me, Stroll.” You smiled up and watched the crinkles around his eyes deepen as he grinned back at you.

“Thanks for agreeing to come. You deserve some fun holidays, not just sitting around alone in your apartment.” The words were said so earnestly and the couple of glasses of wine you drank over the evening had lowered your inhibitions. After a few seconds of looking at him you reached up and pressed a kiss against his smile. But Lance didn’t respond so you stepped back, terrified you’d misread the signs.

You hadn’t and he pulled your body against his as he moved to kiss you properly. One of his hands cupped your cheek, holding you still as the two of you separated.”

“That isn’t why I asked you here at all, but I’m really glad we did that.”

You spent the night together, curled up in Lance’s bed as he explained each of the trophies that lined his childhood bedroom from his early years of carting. He explained what each one was from, giggling at the way you congratulated him for long ago victories. The night passed while you were talking and joking in a blanket cocoon you created together.

The final two days of Hanukkah were spent with the friends you’d made. Chloe taught you how to ski, giving you a spare pair of ski boots and helping you strap into the cross country torture devices. You took selfies and she took a video to send to Lance of you making your way across the frozen land. You looked utterly ridiculous but had a lot of fun. The biggest benefit was Lance massaging your sore calves that evening on the couch as Chloe stuck her feet in Scotty’s face encouraging him to do the same. Neither of you could stop giggling.

The last day was also Christmas Day, but you didn’t really care. Christmas had only ever been a seeing family holiday for you rather than a religious event, and you were more than happy to get to spend time with people who actually wanted to spend time with you. Now that the first kiss barrier had been broken Lance kept pulling you in for hugs and pushing kisses to the top of your head that you returned to his cheek. It was clear you were more than friends and Lawrence gave an approving nod.

That morning you were the first one up, calling your family for a thirty second call before making breakfast. Lawrence was the first one down as you pulled a waffle off the maker, surprising you when you turned around to see him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you, thank you for cooking. You didn’t need to.”

“It’s one of the traditions I always do at this time of year, a big breakfast for everyone. I hope you don’t mind.” You felt self conscious about it, it was his kitchen after all. Lance had told you it would be fine but you still weren’t sure.

“How can I mind coming down to food here for us? I heard movement as I was leaving my bedroom so everyone else will down soon. Thank you for this.”

“You’re welcome.”

It was quiet for a few minutes as you whisked eggs in a pan until Lawrence spoke again.

“You’ve worked on planes and trains, how do you feel about working with automobiles?” Your forehead crinkled as you turned to look at him while still stirring the scrambled eggs.”

“I like things that go really fast. Working on a car seems like it’d be boring after working on planes.”

“What about a Formula One car?” You could have heard a pin drop before he continued. “We need a new head of aerodynamics for the team, I’ve been interviewing candidates trying to find someone. Our previous head went to a different team. Ever since you explained what you do I’ve done some research and I think you’d be the perfect fit. It’s not an easy job, there’s a lot of travel and you’ll be working with some hardheaded engineers and regulations that have millimetre wide restrictions. But if you’re interested I can have a full job offer later today.”

You’d stopped stirring at this point, barely having the presence of mind to pull the pan away from the hot burner. You hadn’t been looking for a new job, especially not in Formula One or in an industry where you’d never worked before. It didnt feel real.

“Is this because of Lance and I?” You hated asking the question but you had to. To his credit Lawrence shook his head immediately.

“Never. As soon as you told me that you deal with strict regulations regularly I wanted you for this. I do understand if you need to think about it.”

“Will you send me the offer? I’m not saying I’ll take the job, but I need to see all of the details. An email’s the best way to do it.” You recited your email and he took it down quickly to send you the information. Once he had everyone else started coming downstairs so you served up the cinnamon rolls and everything else you’d made.

That afternoon you were curled up on the couch with Lance, watching the snowstorm blowing outside. Your phone buzzed with an email from Lawrence containing your offer. While scanning the details your eyes widened.

It was more than you’d expected. Financially it was a big jump from what you were being paid and the benefits were fantastic. Working from the UK and travelling to every race, paid work travel, lots of paid days off, health insurance and more. You stiffened while reading it which made Lance run his hand down your arm.

“Everything ok? Was it your mom?” His voice was roughened with sleep and you smiled softly, leaning over to kiss him.

“It’s good. I have a question for you though. How would you feel about seeing me at least twenty four weekends next year?” You could see the moment that the significance of your question hit him.

“Seriously? How?”

You explained the offer, how his dad had walked in while you were working and you were seriously considering it. You wanted to say yes, but a budding relationship and so much travelling felt worrying.

“If you want to take this, do it. I’ll support you no matter what.” He took a breath before continuing. “But I need to tell you that once people find out we’re dating they’ll say you got this job because of nepotism. Which we both know isn’t true, that you deserve this, but its what they say about my seat. I don’t want you to have to deal with any of the crap.”

“I’d deal with it anyway. Any partner of someone well known gets it. But this way we can at least work together and see each other. I don’t mind the worry and the randomness talking crap. We know the truth.” You pulled his face to yours to kiss him, Lance pulling you onto him and holding you close.

“This is more than just for right now, isn’t it?” He asked, his voice barely audible against your ear.

“It is for me.” You linked your hands together, feeling him squeeze it tightly before wrapping his arms securely around you.

That evening he posted a rare photo on his Instagram story, the five of you with a fully lit menorah in the foreground. There were matching grins and arms around shoulders, two couples clearly defined. You knew comments were made online, and even more when your appointment as Head of Aerodynamic Engineering was announced and you did an interview with the social media team, but you ignored every one of them while your research spoke for itself. And the morning when you arrived to the track for preseason testing in Bahrain holding Lance’s hand made the shouts louder than ever, but watching your work begin to pay off meant it was all entirely worth it.

#lance stroll x reader #lance stroll x you #lance stroll fluff #lance stroll imagine #lance stroll x y/n #lance stroll reader insert #f1 x reader

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tloujm · 1 year

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Headcanon I: Yandere

Warnings: Yandere is an archetype that defines a character whose love, admiration, and devotion is so strong that it can be expressed through forms of obsession and possessiveness.

Author’s Notes: I truly do not believe that Joel has a Yandere personality. He has some traits that may fit the archetype, but not enough for it to be consistently considered Yandere. Though Yandere is ultimately toxic, and he is ultimately a toxic man, I somehow like reading them and figured I’d stray off the path of canon once more to do one for him. Honestly, I feel like this is tame compared to some of the yandere I’ve read in the past. This is all based in the same universe as the main storyline that I JUST realized that I never created a title/name for.

Ship: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Joel is all about survival. It stemmed from not letting his daughter’s death be in vein, then it just became a habitual instinct. When you came into his life, it became this intense drive.

Admittedly, he didn’t trust you at first, but when he finally let his walls down, they never came back up at least for you

Surviving to Joel means having the “either its you or me” mentality and he almost always chooses you over anybody else, even himself

Joel is 100% ok with sacrificing his life for yours

He would for sure take a bullet for you in a heartbeat

It’s just a cherry on top that he knows that you would do the same for him.

On one hand, he wants nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with you, so he will make sure that the both of you survive

But on the other hand, he believes that he will see his daughter again if he dies and what better way to get there than to save you

Especially since he couldn’t use his life to save Sarah

He only survives for you

You are his reason

The same reason that he asks you to search for when you get mad at him for taking you away from the fireflies

You never told him what your reason was, but he desperately wanted you to say that it was him

His brother is a bonus reason once they reunite in Jackson

Ironically, he becomes more protective over you when the two of you decide to stay at the settlement.

Outside of Jackson’s walls, he needed you. He tried his best to do everything for you: shoot, sneak around, escape, etc...but he had to admit that he probably wouldn’t have made it out of some situations without you.

Within Jackson’s walls, it was easier to make sure that you were safe, but he still knew that there were dangers.

The number one danger that he anticipated was getting too comfortable

Baring the surname Miller, he became a well known citizen of the settlement

Joel used this to his advantage and made sure he kept eyes on you at all times through his connections

There was very little that you could hide from him at the end of the day

Joel tried not to let anything suspicious get to him, but he is more of an act first, think second kind of man

This would sometimes lead to arguments

Especially when you first find out about this and how long it’d been going on for

He’s done a good job at keeping all of that away from you and it takes you a while to catch on

He knew that you’d consider it spying instead of how he intended, care and protection.

Insists on giving you guitar lessons when he is in a lighthearted mood

Or when he knows that you are mad at him and he wants to say sorry

Despite how he comes off, he has an incredible amount of patience for those he cares about and is willing to take the time to teach you things

The two of you fall into a relationship without formally defining it

During your journey, before making it to Jackson, the two of you never got intimate. There were implications of romance, but there was never an appropriate time or place to act on it.

Once in Jackson, Joel was tired of dancing around the matter and took control of it

As soon as the two of you were left alone again by Tommy and Maria, he caressed your cheek in his hand and confessed his feelings with brevity

His vows were simply “I am yours and you are mine”

With the famous Joel glare gaze

He waited for you to agree

And luckily for the both of you, you did

He made sure that the two of you didn’t separate by having you live with him

He never stepped over your boundaries physically

As aforementioned, he has an abundance of patience and waits until you are comfortable enough to share a bed with him

As soon as you do, Joel is all in

His arms are wrapped around you

When he moves in his sleep, which is rare bc he sleeps like a rock, you move with him to keep the same locked position

Practically has a heart attack when he wakes up to a cold empty bed

Doesn’t consider himself a deep sleeper, but somehow you still manage to escape his grasp for one reason or another throughout the night without him noticing

Joel responds by laying a leg over yours to hold you in tighter

One of the first reasons why he feels the need to keep eyes on you

Wanna sign up for scavenging or patrol routes? Only if he has the time to sign up for the same ones you do.

Wanna work in the community gardens? Joel’s not afraid to get his hands dirty.

Want peace and quiet with the watch tower duty? He’ll be up in the tower first waiting for you to show up to your SHARED shift.

You asked if he ever got tired of you from being around you all day

Joel: “No” *continues to sip his coffee casually*

He knocks on the bathroom door if he feels that you are taking an excessive amount of time to check on you

Yes, he genuinely misses you, but he also wants to make sure that you haven’t suddenly died on him.

His protectiveness over you, before it got overbearing in Jackson, is what initially caused you to have feelings for him.

He is a possessive lover which has enough pros to keep you going, but definitely has its cons

As a private man, Joel is not into PDA

But he will do so if he feels his relationship is being threatened by an outside force

The most PDA he will do on a regular basis is keeping his hand on you at all times

Not necessarily hand holding, but keeping his hand on your lower back, back of your neck or your waist.

Sometimes, his fingers would dig into your skin to pull you closer to him

He would never harm or put his hands on you, but he left marks

A lot of marks especially after a pretty spicy night

As a private man, he likes the marks to be in places that he could only see

Every so often, he would let you leave the house with clear and visible marks even if there are no direct threats, just as a gentle reminder to anyone who is interacting with you in general.

He prefers his mouth or hands over anything to mark you; no ropes or other extra toys

Also in private, he loves to cuddle

He loves that you enjoy the weight of his entire body on top of yours

He especially loves it when you wrap your legs around his waist to pull him in closer than he thought he already was

Despite this, he makes sure that he doesn’t fall asleep in this position as he is afraid of suffocating you

He, instead, prefers to have you lay on him

Not just next to him with your head on his chest or an arm slung over

He wants your entire body on top of his like a weighted blanket too

Part of his obsession infatuation intoxication with you is because of your natural scent. Your pheromones if you will

Yours in particular drive him crazy in a way he’s never felt

The source is your sacred middle which is why there is never a dull moment in your and his sex life

Even in non sexual ways, he loves being around your pussy

cockwarming

Joel likes to lay his head on your fupa/lower stomach for the soft warmth and to easily take in your scent from the close proximity

If he’s not in a position to be touching you, he very often has his own eyes on you

He’ll offer up his special Joel glare that he saves just for you (barely any different from his usually glare)

While Joel is more serious than playful, he likes to turn it into a game by seeing you fight the urge to meet his gaze and to see how long it takes before you do so

He always gets jealous but is good at controlling it if the two of you are near each other and you are not giving him at least an once of attention.

Joel has a desire to protect you from unseen forces too, like colds or the flu, but doesn’t beat himself up when he fails to do so

He takes advantage of the times that you are sick because he gets to keep you all to himself in the house

Joel will put his foot down about not being able to work his patrol shifts because he’s too busy caring for you

Joel finds himself conflicted between not wanting to see you in pain and having you be completely dependent on him.

He’s also conflicted about getting you pregnant

He doesn’t want more kids for various “practical” reasons

Afraid of feeling guilt over replacing Sarah

Taking his energy away from protecting you to protect someone else

Afraid he may become too soft to protect either one of you by being wrapped around the babies finger

But he also wants kids with you for various reasons

One of his favorite ways to mark you is internally with his cum

The heavier you grow with his child, the more dependent you’ll need to be of him and it’ll be longer than a cold

He’ll convince you to be a stay at home mom, so he wouldn’t have to worry about the whereabouts of two separate people as the child would always be with you.

A child would most likely encourage you to stay within the settlement’s walls

He’ll try to convince you to want a child too

If you are not ready for one, he will be super patient and bring it up every so often to see if your answer has changed

At the end of the day, he has lost too much in his life and he will do everything in his power not to lose you either

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junnieverse · 7 months

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LOGICAL ➳ Y. JUNGWON

➙ synopsis: you had known from the beginning that your relationship with jungwon was far from perfect, many would simply put it as toxic because of how manipulative he was but you were too blinded by love that all the lies and deceit felt meaningless. it was too late before you realised how dysfunctional it all was, love wasn't logical after all.

pairing: yang jungwon x gn!reader

genre: angst, lovers to exes au

word count: 1.1k

warnings: not proofread, jungwon is toxic (and so is your relationship with him), reader cries at some point

a/n: this is officially the first one done for the series! I hope you guys enjoy it, reblogs are highly appreciated too! :)

— GUTS X ENHYPEN SERIES MASTERLIST !

Everything had seemingly came crashing down and you were stuck right in the middle of the storm.

It felt like everything you knew that he'd told you was just acid burning through a surface.

Yang Jungwon was no saint. He may have looked like one but, looks can be deceiving.

Everyone had warned you about him and his manipulative ways but you were smitten.

You had fallen for him and hard, nothing anyone said could've stopped you from letting go of him and the deep connection you had.

You were brainwashed, yes, but what made you feel stupid was how long it took you to realise that your relationship with Jungwon really meant nothing to him.

He simply drew you a picture of everything you wanted, the picture perfect relationship with the most perfect boyfriend but you couldn't see the cracks in this little fantasy.

You were mislead into a fake reality that seemed so perfect that you were afraid of losing it.

Only after you saw the truth behind it all did you realise how much control Jungwon had over you.

He made you doubt the obvious and simply believe and stay in the fantasy he'd painted out for you because 2 + 2 actually equals 5 right, it didn't make sense at first but then again nothing in your relationship did and so you just chose to blindly believe whatever and every grain of critical thinking seemingly dispersed slowly.

"I really am a fool huh. I could've stopped it from going on for so long but I let that master manipulator have his way." you say laughing bitterly as your best friend sat beside you rubbing your back comfortingly.

Constantly seeing the signs that he was never a good influence to have around and yet you ignored the warning signs because he made you 'happy'.

You had heard all the rumours about him and yet it went through one ear and right through the other choosing to not believe the truth behind everyone who was trying to protect you from getting hurt.

"Jungwon, who was that girl I saw you with the other day with your friends?" you ask him looking down nervously.

"Hmm? Oh that was... a friend of mine." he says monotonously as he walks past you not bothering to say anything else.

You knew deep down that it was better to trust your gut instincts and they were telling you that he wasn't being completely truthful yet you once again turned a blind eye to your boyfriend mistreating you because the following day he would shower you with gifts and tell you how much he loved you.

He deserved just that much forgiveness right.

You were blind in love and this little world you both had was enough for you.

All you needed was Jungwon to feel complete you thought.

It was evident that you were holding onto something that wasn't pure and sincere, your relationship with Jungwon was nothing but lies and deception but you still saw 'the good side' in him.

How he lead you to believe he was changing, becoming a better man for you.

And yet, the more he lied to you, the more you started believing the things he'd say.

"It's possible for people to change. Jungwon is changing just for me, don't you guys see it?" you tell your friends thinking fondly of him as your friends shared a knowingly worried look between one another.

"(Y/n) snap out of it, Jungwon keeps messing with your feelings, he's gaslighting you." one of them says trying to calmly express herself.

Leaving him wasn't any easy either, you'd been committed for a solid two years now and you weren't willing to throw that away.

He would call you less, he was less affectionate, he was staying out with friends more and he was gradually gravitating away from you.

Everytime you finally had enough of him and would call him out, he somehow found a way to win you over to give him another chance.

"You know I would never hurt you baby. I had too much to drink and did something stupid but you know I'll always love you." Jungwon said holding your hand in his as he wiped your tears with his other hand.

He sure was convincing you thought, he knew which exact poisonous words to use just to have you running back to him.

It was nothing but broken promises and the same story.

He would mess up, you would call him out, you both would get into an argument and he wakes up the next morning begging for forgiveness but never owning up to what he did.

You couldn't let yourself keep suffering like this anymore.

Nothing made sense, you thought he was the perfect guy you fell in love with in the beginning but now you don't know who Jungwon became, better yet maybe this was a side of him he hid from the very beginning like everyone warned you about, but you were slowly losing yourself through the dysfunctionality of your toxic relationship with him.

The fantasy world he'd created for you was crumbling down and you started to see him for who he really was.

You started to see how distorted everything he'd say was only after you finally chose to see the truth.

You thought it was a bright and magical island but this fantasy had it's faults, from the green skies to the red grass... how didn't you see this all before.

"God I'm so stupid." you say thinking back to your past relationship.

You tried making him happy, that was your main goal your entire relationship, to see Jungwon smile and be the reason behind it.

It made you blame yourself thinking you couldn't even keep your own boyfriend happy.

He trapped you.

It all felt like endless drowning and you didn't know when you'd hit the bottom.

Jungwon made sure he had you wrapped around his finger just so he could use you as he pleased and wiggle his way back into your life by painting a false picture of someone he never was... and you fell for it each time.

You both had so many problems in your relationship, very clearly your problems were unsolvable and you just kept trying to make something out of nothing.

Who was to blame but yourself.

You put yourself in this position, you could've stopped it all from the beginning when you realised how all Jungwon did was mistreat you but you didn't.

Because you 'loved him' ?

He couldn't even give you just that much back so why did you put yourself through so much heartache.

"This whole love thing is fucked up." you say looking at your best friend who nods beside you.

Love was never logical but you had to learn it the hard way.

SERIES TAGLIST: @enhastolemyheart @jungwonscafe @firstclassjaylee

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yandere-toons · 2 years

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I loovvee percy jackson!! Hows about some platonic headcanons for luke castellan? The original sympathetic edgy sadboy.

Luke Castellan (Platonic Headcanons)

WARNING: yandere, death, violence, abduction, psychological manipulation, toxic mindset.

EVERY TIME his friend comes to him with complaints about another camper harassing or bullying them, Luke listens and takes note of the name so he can intimidate the camper later. Even if the complaints are not a call to action, that is how Luke chooses to interpret them.

His way of exacting revenge is to make the camper his next sparring partner. Many of the half-bloods gather to watch his swordplay, and Luke disguises his agenda as a lesson in how to parry and disarm one's opponent.

The camper has no hope of winning when faced with a vengeful and driven Luke. He rips the weapon out of their hands before they have a proper chance to defend themselves and shoulder-charges them into the dirt.

Depending on the severity of the transgression and how upset it made his friend, Luke will do this again and again until the camper is bruised and exhausted.

If anyone has the mind to question his apparent hostility, it is dismissed as Luke adding a touch of realism to the training session to better prepare everyone for how unforgiving the monsters will be.

Should his friend be there to witness his triumph, Luke teases them about enjoying the sight of the camper getting bested. Regardless of whether this is true or not, Luke believes he has done his friend a service and takes pride in the fact that the camper is most likely afraid of him now.

It does not take long for Kronos to catch wind of the relationship, what with Luke dreaming of his friend most nights. Kronos seizes the opportunity to lead Luke further astray and perverts these dreams into nightmares about his friend dying.

Their death is always the result of negligence by the gods, such as his friend falling under attack by monsters and making a prayer for help that goes unanswered. The lighter nightmares are of his friend rotting alone in the Hermes cabin, abandoned and forever unclaimed by their godly parent.

Luke descends into paranoia and hatred for whoever his friend's godly parent is, devoting what little time he spends away from his friend to stewing over imagined threats to their life. He views his mission as bringing them salvation and delivering them from the uncaring grasp of the gods.

Anytime his friend is presented with a quest or the offer to join one, Luke takes on a bitter attitude and states that the gods deserve no favours from them. He has no qualms about sticking mortals with Backbiter if they come across any humans who treat his friend badly.

Coming back from a quest dead or with injuries is certain to get someone else killed. Luke blames the other members of the quest for, in his eyes, failing to protect his friend. He holds a grudge against these people that spans years, and he makes sure they catch the tip of Backbiter one day.

Once he ditches Camp Half-Blood, Luke hounds his friend to hop aboard the ship Princess Andromeda and embrace Kronos' revolution. He promises the coming of a paradise where they no longer need to waste their life waiting for the right god to acknowledge them.

He refuses to take no for an answer, convincing himself that rejection only means someone has corrupted their perception of him and lied to them about his goal. Luke sends monsters to correct this wrong by abducting his friend and attacking anyone who goes to intervene.

Percy sees this order in a dream and warns Luke's friend not to leave the camp for any reason. The poisoning of Thalia's pine tree makes this a bit of a moot point, as monsters begin to slip through the cracks in the barrier and wage various kidnapping attempts.

Kronos grows wise about how this conflict is distracting Luke, so he starts to assault Luke's friend with nightmares about betrayal and their gruesome death. Kronos aims to turn them against the gods and Camp Half-Blood so that they will come running to his side, allowing Luke to focus on the task at hand.

Luke is careful to instruct the monsters on Kronos' payroll that his friend must not be harmed. If they are brought before him battered and bloodied, Luke erupts in rage and tries his hardest to have the monster responsible executed.

He forges a story in which they have proven to be a useful war asset to shield them from Kronos, and Kronos, noticing how much Luke's sanity rides on their life, dangles the threat of a fate worse than death for them if Luke fails to uphold the cause.

If his friend does convert to Kronos' side or at least pretends to convert, Luke considers them his new family and taunts anyone who would persuade them otherwise. Lying to Luke is a tricky gamble because Kronos will suspect the deception and whisper it in Luke's ear until Luke wonders if Kronos is onto something.

When doubt creeps in and Luke finds his loyalty to Kronos wavering, he seeks out his friend and begs them to flee with him. He speaks of leaving both the gods and Kronos behind in favour of being on the lam with no one but each other.

Do anything you want with my work, but never make me boring!

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generouskittentidalwave · 5 days

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Watching the She-ra reboot after 5-6 years

Hey remember that show in 2018 that came out on Netflix during Tumblr's Twitter era and stirred up enough toxicity to turn you into Dave the Skeleton in the highschool science classroom?

Well BUCKLE IN for a RIDE cause I recently watched that show for the first time after avoiding it for YEARS, after seeing the fans and the haters be so devoted to either the fans praising it like a godsent deity or haters devoting their whole life to finding something wrong with every aspect of the show that it makes you wonder if they realized that they've become the Catra that they sought to destroy, I decided to avoid even touching the show and went about my life in other fandoms.

Well years have passed and like a Hallmark movie time abruptly went on and the drama soon faded, the tides have settled, the war has ended, and neither side remains the same. The fans have grown up, matured and enjoy the show as it is and the haters have lost all that sweet sustenance back in 2019 and have went the ways of the DoDo. With everything finally settled, I joined in on the rush of new fans recently that started rewatching the series and wanted to display my thoughts as well as a first time watcher ^^

I went in well aware of all the criticisms in mind, and having seen the original She-ra, and I just gotta say that my worrisome thoughts on watching it was completely washed away from the start of the show. I was worried of Adora being that one marysue character that is from the bad guys side but is actually a good a guy with the personality of white bread and with flaws of just being "a little bit QuiRkY" but she completely shooed away those fears. She is a well balanced character with a unique and well done backstory, her character breaking away from the steriotypical chosen ones and her having flaws that don't take away her being a good person but instead have their own charm and relatability that makes her very fun and down to earth. She is so golden retriever coded and I love it. What I like most though is that she wasn't "random main character comes in to lead everyone to victory out of nowhere" , instead of making her the unsaid leader, they made her the main character who is the muscle of the group and part of the heart and has to learn overtime and understand their ways instead of making her the leader. It makes way for her to pave and earn her way as being the main character instead of it being given by default by making her the leader and I love that break away. And that break away also helps to counter the fears I heard about the white savior trope by making Adora the way she was and making Glimmer and Glimmer's mom the queen the actual leaders of the rebellion that they helped start.

Love the best friends squad, I love Glimmer's growth and her bond with Adora, I like how she went downhill and built herself back up again as a person as it was very realistic with her being so young and having to replace her mom as queen. Bow is my spirit animal, period, but I really want to know more about his huge family. I imagine that because they are all historians they must go to the academy or similar academies that Bow was meant to go to and I can see why they wouldn't question him not being there as 12 siblings is A LOT to keep track of. Swiftwind is great but he shall always be known as Horsie and the queen's sacrifice hurts everytime I see it, I love how she owned up to her own flaws. Shadowweaver messed up being a mother figure 3 times, she needs parenting classes fr, 'nough said. I love all the princesses but Mermista is my personal favorite. Also why is aunt cast named Castaspella, I can't even say it without dying of laughter 💀🖐️

Now I know some of you are sitting at your computer with 5 monsters in hand and sweat anxiously dripping from your forehead as you dramatically hover over the keys just WAITING to write a five page essay response if I even dare to utter the name Catra and her relationship with Adora. So, I'ma give you my opinion.

Honestly, their romance was the end goal since the beginning and the story made that clear and honestly I like Catra's growth as a character from her knowing she has anger issues and actively working on it to better herself, helping to save others and helping to save Adora in the end. Her realizing that pushing others away to protect herself only harms her and everyone around her in the end and her realistically taking it slow and steady to better herself as a person for herself and for Adora is something a really like. Yes their relationship was hella toxic, especially in the middle (but I do like how Adora recognized that and punched Catra when they were in the portal). The build up was great, the middle ground of her doubling down was great, and I think her growth at the end was great and that the two are happy and not in a toxic relationship with eachother anymore at the end. I think what truly makes it odd is although the redemption was great the time constraints made it so they couldn't flesh it out to help answer and address the past actions that were caused by her, they did so great with her slowly becoming better and better, and so it wouldn't have come off as bad as it did if they had just a bit more time to address everything with that instead of being forced to dive right into it which definitely left a- well- less than good impression to it's audience. But they tried their best with what they could do and honestly for a show as surprisingly dark as this I'm just glad they aren't in a toxic relationship anymore and are happy in the end and that Catra got redeemed. It definitely wasn't trying to romanize abuse, however it came off as such due to constraints and them rushing the ending which gave plenty of ammo to people who already hated the show to have a reason to hate it more. In my opinion if you don't like it that's valid, if you do like it that's valid, me personally I'm not a romance person so I couldn't care enough either way.

Now to address some things I know some people are waiting for, but in speed run fashion. Mara's She-ra design was the fault of the designers not agreeing on what they wanted her to look like, I was expecting her to have brown flowing hair not blonde, I get the stripping of individuality message they tried to go with, it just needed better designers and better execution but that's as deep as it goes. It's not that they are racist, they are more along the lines of "you need a more organized team cause her design changes every five seconds like wtf" kind of situation. I'm glad they didn't automatically forgive Hordak or accept him but I'm glad he was changed enough to not be a killer that's mass murdering people anymore and as long no one is dying by his hands anymore and people don't automatically forgive him then that's fine by me, whatever keeps others from dying a horrible unnecessary death.

Overall, in conclusion, love the show, great depth, great characters, love the humor and amazing magical girl transformations, awesome rep, stronk princess punching things, would most definitely recommend, especially now with all the wave of chaos it's initial release sucked in now evaporated. (Seriously there are full tags and blogs deticated to hating a show about glowing princesses fighting aliens, it's okay to not like a show but come on people there is more to life than that 💀) Enjoy it, have fun, and I hope you have a great day/night! ^^

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