#its just a wonder this went over my head for so many years and only Now do i see it all. i'm broken dont talk to me rn

[delirium1217]

crystal clear

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

“It’s just… not my type of scene, that’s all,”

“Your brother’s engagement party is not your type of scene?”

“Is that really surprising?”

“I guess not,”

The conversation fizzled out, as if it had any fighting chance anyway. Regulus kept staring at tiny details to keep himself steady. The lines in the brick wall in front of him. The way the wind blew away his cigarette smoke.

It’d been too overwhelming inside, filled to the brim with people he hadn’t seen in years. Hungry eyes filled with questions and inquisitions. The shimmering hue that came over everything. Like he’d wound up in an overexposed photo, flaring white and red and orange all over the dance floor.

“Look,” James started back up again. He didn’t even have the excuse of smoking to keep talking to him, “I know things have been - awkward between you and well, everyone, since uhm, uh, it all. And I don’t know if you’re here to reconnec-”

“I’m not here to make amends, James,”

That seemed to catch him off guard. Regulus wondered if James wasn’t used to him being this blunt. Ah, well. Too many things have changed for this not to change too.

He took a deep breath, “That’s fine. I just wanted to say, we all appreciate you being here,” he paused for a second. “Sirius. Even though he has odd ways of showing it, he’s glad you’re here. Remus, too, his whole ‘don’t ruin his day’ speech is just nervous jitters,” his hands were flailing along his words, like he was trying to mime them out.

Regulus looked down at the floor, fragments of silver confetti were taking the shape of real constellations over his shoes. Clever little bit of magic.

He didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t blame them for how they acted. Sirius - initial anger followed by weird sentimentality. Remus, all confrontation and ragged edges. He knew what they all went through. He knew all the betrayal that had left them this fragile.

He wasn’t here to ‘reconnect’. If he was, he’d be doing a piss-poor job at it. Was that something he wanted? He didn’t even consider it. Reconnect, and what then?

“It’s just – did you really have to crash in at 10 am after three years of refusing contact?”

It wasn’t an unfair question. Still, it prodded at something in his chest. Something that pulsated and smouldered. He instantly felt the urge to seize up, and push away. It disturbed him how easy it was crawling back into his old skin. The viscera automatically reworking itself into the shape it had once been.

This, he told himself, this is why he left. This place dragged the worst out of him.

If James was expecting an answer, he didn’t show it, leaning back on the brick wall beside him. As if the question was a mere suggestion, something to consider. He’d think it patronizing if it were anyone else.

He looked over at him. White shirt crumpled, sleeves pushed up, tie dishevelled and wonky. The hazy sheen the evening held seemed to swell as he looked at James. As if the stars had fallen and framed his face in their wake.

It was still there, he slowly realized. The tug of want. He felt his hands ache. The incessant urge to touch and feel. He’d tried so badly to bury it. It was still there, sticking its ugly head out of the sand.

Stilltherestilltherestillthere.

An awkward blob of emotion and pheromones and terrible circumstances. He couldn’t look anymore.

“I-” he heard himself start, as if he had no control over his own tongue.

“I’m not supposed to be here. The letter with the portkey was on my dresser. And I couldn’t-“He took a deep sigh, eyes flickering across the floor, “I couldn’t bear to fail him today too,”

The words hung between them. James didn’t react, only nodding slightly. He got the impression he was being treated like a skittish animal. Maybe he was.

“I get that,”

He turned his head towards him, eyebrow raised. “No you don’t,”

“Okay, maybe I don’t,”

A smile tugged on Regulus’ lips. James hadn’t changed a bit. Ever the empathetic, even when it made zero sense.

“Hey, I got you to drop the frown!”

He instantly went back to frowning again. This promptly led to James laughing, in a way that sent Regulus careening years back.

“Thank Merlin I haven’t lost the ability to do that,” James went on.

Snapshots flickered through his head. Himself, a miserable little thing, observing from across hallways and classrooms and Quidditch fields. He wanted to hate him so badly, the boy who’d stolen his brother. He never stood a chance.

The end was there as well. That year was nothing but an open wound in his mind, a festering, rotting tunnel of memories he tip-toed around. But James was there. The only person who could get anything resembling a smile out of him. The stars above the astronomy tower, brighter and brighter as winter turned into summer. Prefect rounds and silly little bickering. They were the only things he’d allowed himself to revisit.

There were so many things left unsaid. So many things Regulus abandoned when he took the Mark. That last night – the one where he pushed James away flashed across his mind. He’d taken whatever fragile relationship they’d had, and he smashed it to the ground.

They hung between them, too.

“I, uhm. I think I owe you an apology,”

James looked at him. Wide dark eyes that he knew shone startling hazel under the sunlight. It was unfair, this effect he still had on him. Turning Regulus into something soft and fragile and vulnerable, even after all this time. He thought he’d left it all behind.

“Yeah?”

“The way I left things, it wasn’t right. I don’t want it stand between us,”

“I thought you weren’t here to make amends?” The wink that followed made Regulus’ heart perform a disgustingly loud percussion routine.

“Yeah well. Some things you just can’t avoid,”

“Ah. And I’m one of those things?”

Yes. All the miles I put between us were useless. Yes. I can’t help but want to crash into you.

“No. I just can’t go back and have another thing I fucked up haunting me,”

James was suddenly somber again, as if he just remembered the grim details of everything that went down.

“Alright, that’s fair. Well, no need to apologize, after all that you did,”

This was wrong. Something was off. He was lying, all this faux calamity was for show.

He didn’t care how long it’d been since he last saw him, James had never not demanded more. More explanation. More words and whys and hows. It was one of the reasons he’d left things so untouched in his sixth year. James Potter would’ve tore down his defenses one by one, till he had none left.

He narrowed his eyes at him. It'd gotten cold outside, or maybe the alcohol warming him had dissipated. The noise from the party inside winding down. The cigarette butts littering the coarse ground.

It was tremendously uncomfortable, yet James had stayed for about twenty minutes, while Regulus smoked, talked and…for what?

“What is this really about, James? Why are you out here?”

“I- you just looked so upset and-“

“Plenty of depressed people at a wedding,”

“Engagement,” James corrected

“Whatever, same difference,”

“It very much is not when I’m the one who planned it all,”

“You planned all of this?”

“Uh, yeah. Why did you think I froze when you showed up? Estranged younger siblings really do throw a wrench into whatever party you have planned, y’know,”

He did not think about why James froze up, because he was too busy staring at Sirius, who looked like he could kill him, “I could imagine,”

The thought of James frantically planning an engagement party was a bit absurd, like something from those muggle comedies his roommates liked to watch. Despite the mood he’d developed, the urge to laugh filled his chest. The mental image of James, his hair more of a bird’s nest than usual, turning red over the wrong type of flowers or cake was incredible.

He supposed it did make sense, James was so close to both Sirius and Remus. Of course, he’d know exactly what they’d want.

That explained all the off-beat magic and tidbits of mischief he’d seen today. Those confetti constellation charms. Whatever the dance floor had that pushed people together. The ribbon streamers flying in between dull conversations, asking people questions. The empty glasses you could mutter whatever you wanted into. It was all so well-crafted. It made him ache.

He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was a ghost floating through.

“Uh, speaking of the wedding. I’m planning that, too. Obviously. As if they could hire someone better than me. But, uh, uhm.” He took a deep breath, like he was readying himself to jump off a cliff, “I kind of told them you’d stay till the wedding,”

At first, he thought he’d misheard. “You-what?”

“Told them you’d stay till the wedding?” He hesitantly said, “Sirius was such a mess, he couldn’t deal with the fact that you were leaving afterwards and I just- I panicked,”

He stayed quiet for a second, his mind slowly processing what he’d heard. When he did, he got the sudden urge to cry.

“I just- no. That’s-“Regulus found himself fumbling. He’d left this. He’d left this all behind, he couldn’t do this again. “No. No, I’m not coming back,”

“But-“

Sadness burned into anger, a whiplash of emotions that suddenly grounded him, he moved forward off the wall and fully faced James.

“You want to know why I left, James? This is why I left!” Regulus spat out, the harsh words contrasting with all the goddamned harmony everyone was in. All the joy and exuberant youth they were bathed in. He could choke on it. “You don’t get to decide what I do, not you, not the Order, not my family, not any megalomaniac with a death-wish, okay? No one, no one but me!” The rasp in his throat caught him off guard. This – he couldn’t not have control, not after all he’d been through.

“What about the people you left behind?”

He found himself inching closer, staring into James’ eyes. “I do not owe anyone a fucking thing, Potter.”

“No.” James’ voice hardened. There. Regulus thought with sick satisfaction, there was the anger he’d so badly craved. James looked beautiful, face twisted with contempt. The anger Regulus deserved. “No. You don’t get to say that. Not after, not after what you did. Everyone was - I was fucked up for months after you left!” He paused.

“No idea of where you were or what you were doing. And then months go by - and you’ve turned sides but still refused to talk to any of us. How dare you?” 

They both stopped after that, chests rising and falling with labored breath. Grey met brown. James swallowed, Regulus’ eyes flickered down to the movement.

And that’s all it took.

It wasn’t gentle, the way the crashed into each other – how could it be? All sharp angles, teeth, and digging nails. Things said and unsaid fell to the wayside. James’ hands grabbed his temples and dragged him inward. His own hand pushed at James’ tie, twisting it around his wrist and pulling in.

It was the farthest thing away from the chaste little touches they’d shared, a lifetime ago, fumbling through newfound confusion and attraction.

This was frustration and despair and regret poured into one. James tilted his head, beckoning Regulus closer. His hands let go of the tie, slamming him into the wall. The groan the came from James’ mouth lit something inside himself aflame. All he could do was push himself further. Closer, closer, closer.

James pushed himself off. Gasping for air. Regulus’ skin burned with all the lost warmth.

His face was vehement in the dull yellow light. Glasses pushed off, lost somewhere in their collision. His lips a violent red – slightly parted. Hair pulled into tufts, sticking out. All the anger that reverberated between them had cooled down into something feverish and restrained.

None of it mattered – the regrets and who’d left and who’d stayed. Not during a war. They were both wrong for bringing this up.  

They fell into silence, shaky breaths, and piercing stares. Regulus felt his skin prickle with anxiety. His mind out of sync with his heart, he didn’t know what to think.

“I just needed to do that – at least once, if you meant it – leaving,” James muttered, words coming out in desperate breaths, eyes tracing his face.

“James, I can’t be here. Not like how you want. It hurts too much,” his voice came out pleading, a hoarse little thing.

James’ hand reached out, tucking Regulus’ hair behind his ear, the gentle touch a vivid contrast to all the desperate touches that preceded it. The urge to cry came back up again.

“That’s- it’s fine. I’m – I’m sorry I said what I did. I think I said it for my sake as much as it was for Sirius’, I thought about you – this, so many times. Even before you left, I didn’t care, I would’ve still been there,” his voice twisted with guilt at that last part, like he was confessing to a heinous crime. In Regulus’ eyes, he might as well have. He wasn’t proud of what he did – those last few months of war, hearing James say this sent a thrill of fear through his heart.

He would’ve destroyed him. He would’ve wrecked him to pieces.

He didn’t want to think about that anymore. It threatened to throw him off-balance. He looked over at James.

“I – I still want,” Regulus swallowed the rising sense of panic in his chest, he cleared his throat “I still want to be here. I just, I can’t be thrown in full throttle like today. You can’t expect me to just fold to whatever you want. But I still want to be here – when these things happen,” it was true, but he only realized it as he said it.

He still wanted the contact. The string to his past. He just couldn’t handle too much of it.

James laughed, a bright little noise that caught him off guard, “So like. Holidays and weddings? God, Regulus you are so – is that what we just had a full on screaming match about? You want to be a normal person living abroad and visit family on special occasions? I thought you wanted to disappear off the face of the earth and never be seen again,”

Regulus’ face burned with embarrassment – James was right, Regulus had blown up over the mere suggestion that someone would be in control of his life again. His therapist was going to have a field day with that one.

“You were the one that said I’d stay till the wedding,”

“Yeah, which is in twenty days?”

“Oh,” Regulus hadn’t thought about that. He should’ve realized – even after the war ended, people weren’t really keen on delaying weddings.

“Yeah, oh. What – you thought I’d keep you here for a year or something?”

Yes, that’s exactly what he thought. “No.”

James laughed again. Regulus wanted to memorize every second of it.

“Y’know it wasn’t really just a screaming match,” Regulus found himself muttering. They were still both so close. Face to face. The air had stilled around them.

“No it wasn’t,” James’ voice dropped low, his eyes finding Regulus’.

When they leaned in again, it felt inevitable.

Warmth filtered across his skin. James’ fingers gripped onto his hair, strong and unrelenting. His weight against Regulus’ own a welcome comfort. He could get lost in this. He could spend all his days here.

James broke away, yet again. Regulus felt like the rug was pulled out from under him.  

“Listen, could we… talk about what we’re doing here?”

“I – what do you mean?” he felt dazed from the lost contact.

“This,” James gestured to the space between them.

“Um, I mean,” Regulus cleared his throat. “We can figure out a portkey system? I can’t give you any promises, I just. I’m barely holding on most days, but I can – for this, I mean, unless you just want something casual, which is fine. I guess. I shouldn’t have assumed. Yeah, that’d be-”

“Reg, you idiot,”

Oh. He should’ve realized, was this just a one off thing? Had he completely misread the situation?

“Has anything about us ever been casual?”

“No. I guess not.” He found himself laughing, none of it was particularly funny, it was just – relief. Weird, the difference a few hours could make in someone’s life.

James started laughing too. Seemingly, only because Regulus was. He linked their hands together.

“And Regulus?”

“Yeah?”

“Next time we have an argument, we really should do more than angrily make out about it,”

“Are you sure?”

“Well, maybe once in a while,”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

if you enjoyed reading, consider dropping a kudos or a comment on my ao3! it helps a lot to motivate me! thank you<3

ao3 link

#alright might be pushing the limits of what ‘microfic’ is here #jegulus #jegulus microfic #marauders #regulus black #marauders era #james potter #james x regulus #regulus x james #jegulus fanfiction #marauders fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #jegulus oneshot #delirium writes

[claitea]

i restarted my pkmn black file a while ago and just beat the elite four and i am feeling. so normal about n harmonia i swear. i just need a minute though going in his room shattered me

#clai speaks #GOD THIS IS WHY. EVEN THOUGH I DIDNT FULLY APPRECIATE BW'S STORY WHEN I FIRST PLAYED BC I WAS LIKE SEVEN #THIS IS WHY N REMAINED MY UNDISPUTED FAVORITE POKEMON CHARACTER FOR TWELVE YEARS UNTIL SUBM@S TOOK OVER #bc its been over a decade since i first finished the game i forgot a lot of the details of the plot #so it was like seeing a lot of stuff for the first time almost. the castle took me offguard i forgot it did that qjvwjevhrvfjb #what absolutely broke me to the point of rambling here is the fact that one of the shadow triad appears. points you to n's room #and tells you ''this is the world given to him''. his world was this one castle. a tiny playroom. #concordia says ghetsis only allowed n to interact with pokemon wronged by humans and that helped shape his drastic worldview #coupled with the fact he was kept in such a tiny world. anthea and concordia say he's pure and innocent. and it was used against him #interacting with his train set suggests it was recently played with. also its still running on its tracks so it has fresh batteries obv #did he go in there? was he Just in there playing with the toys in there #the tracks are scattered and theres a train stuck up into the basketball hoop. he was angry while handling these toys? #the forcefulness of when he talks to alder after beating him really took me offguard bc i'm used to the gentler ns from other media #i forgot he gets that passionate here. it just. Augh #its the little things about the playroom that just. Ruined me now that i'm actually able to appreciate them #the absolute sinisterness of it all. taking this kindhearted kid who didnt know better and molding him into what he is now #still as kindhearted as ever. he has good intentions. but he was restricted and manipulated until he became like this #its just a wonder this went over my head for so many years and only Now do i see it all. i'm broken dont talk to me rn #it just makes the fact that i read his pokemas story literally like two hours ago worse JWHHDHDH #i know pokemas isnt canon but like its close enough. and n seems so much happier there. still on the ''poke balls are restrictive'' thing #but he's been allowed to travel and see new things and now he accepts things he was told were bad. its. i'm gonna cry #I'M NOT EVEN DONE MAN I STOPPED AFTER I WENT IN HIS ROOM I COULDNT TAKE IT #NATURAL HARMONIA GROPIUS MY BELOVED #it just all hit me so hard i needed to ramble about it somewhere #if you read this all thank you for tolerating my Likes N Pokemon Too Much Disease

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Head Canons:

Sacrificial Bride

Yandere Dragon Shifter x Princess Reader

TW: Yandere behavior, manipulation, Somniaphilia (suggested), delusional yandede, complacency, etc.

Feroc the Ferocious was the kind of dragon who would bring any silly knight to their knees. The kind of dragon that inspired legends and stories to be written in books. The kind of dragon that was larger than any castle human like could ever dream to build. The kind of dragon that could decimate a kingdom with a single breath of his fiery flames if he was angered… the dragon that your own people sacrificed you, the princess, to in order to save themselves from his wrath.

And so they bound you up and threw you before him. Your own father on his knees as he begged the great dragon for mercy in exchange for his own flesh and blood… the kingdom’s most prized beauty in exchange for peace. An offer Feroc quickly accepted before the king could utter another word!

Dragons collected beautiful treasures! Dragons hoarded their treasure in caves and abandoned castles fad from prying eyes… and unbeknownst to you, Feroc found you to be rhetorical most beautiful

For dragons, a sacrificial spouse was an ancient tradition and this was the first time he’d been offered such a perfect bride! How could he refuse you? Especially when your own people begged him so prettily? Would you beg for him just as beautifully one day?

And so you were scooped up in his ginormous talons and carried away in the sky to a lone tower deep in the mountains. Your new home… your home with Feroc.

You could recall how scared of him you used to be. You’d heard from many people of how this giant scaled beast before you was a man eater. Of how he swallowed many knights in his time… yet this dragon seemed so shy from your experience so far. Skittish even.

Feroc often brought you various jewelry and fine silks from his daily raids. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t bring you a gift of some kind. His molten eagerly studied your form despite his persistent silence. Feroc’s company disturbed you as much as it comforted you.

It took a month for him to speak to you. His accent was heavy from the olden tongue he spoke but he knew the same language you spoke. His voice was booming and low, it could easily strike terror in others… but for some reason, his voice calmed you. Perhaps loneliness has finally crept its fangs into your heart? You weren’t sure…

Feroc would bring you anything you wanted to eat. Within means, of course. He’d bring you delicacies he’d likely looted off some poor caravan if you said you wanted sweets. There was no extremes he wouldn’t go to for you, which was odd since he was a dragon who’s been around for hundred of years… why did Feroc have such an interest in a human princess?

One day, you had a nightmare of a man standing in the corner of your room. Your scream in the night quickly alerted your guardian who peaked his large eye in your room in worry.

“Princess? What’s wrong?”

“I just had a nightmare… I thought there was a man in my room.” You wiped the sweat from your forehead while Feroc clicked his tongue.

“No man could ever scale his tower. I’m the only one who can enter. I’d never let anyone harm you.” The red and black dragon grumbled, his molten eyes glanced you once over. “Why? Do you… want a human companion?”

“I do get lonely sometimes.” You admitted to Feroc . His eyes now filled with hurt. “I do enjoy your company but… I miss being able to touch another human.”

Feroc didn’t understand your sentiment. He was a might dragon! The strongest of his kind! Feroc has proven himself to be the best of mates to you and yet you were still displeased? Was it because he was a dragon? Would you be happier if he showed you his other form?

“I’ll figure something out then… get some sleep.”

Feroc now snuck in your bedroom when you slept. He ghosted his clawed fingers over your oblivious form in wonder. His clawed fingers were too sharp, he’d have to dull them more… he didn’t want to cut up his pretty princess!

Feroc’s gentle touches progressed when he noticed how heavy of a sleeper you were. His desire to see what made you human drove him to insatiable heights. No area was left unexplored with his eyes. He needed to be perfect. Feroc had to be compatible with you. You and him were going to have young one day, after all! Feroc didn’t want to harm you in the process!

Feroc was able to mold his body into a perfect man. Once that was the perfect size for you, yet still immense so you’d know it was him. Feroc now stood at a massive seven feet tall rather than the hundred feet of his dragon form.

Yet there was a constant fear within him that you’d die of old age or of natural causes… Feroc knew humans were fragile creatures so he did what he had to. Feroc shared half of his heart with you while you slept. It was a simple spell and a painless procedure for you. One that would benefit the both do you in the long run!

If one of you died, the other would! You’d never age! You now shared a lifespan with him. Feroc couldn’t wait to tell you once the two of you made everything official!

It took another month for him to reveal this perfect form to you. Feroc had to let the excitement die down from sharing his heart with you so you didn’t freak out! Humans were such finicky creatures, after all! And he’d be an awful mate if he frightened you with a subject you had no knowledge on…

All you needed was to see this devilishly beautiful form of his and you’d be bewitched.

“Look at us… we’re so beautiful together.” Feroc whispered into the skin of your shoulder as he admired your reflection beside him. “I think I’ll find you more gold to decorate you with, my treasure.”

“Feroc, I don’t understand.” You jump when Feroc dragged his forked tongue across your exposed shoulder.

“You accepted all of my gifts and you’re the only one who suits me.” Feroc hissed his obsidian eyes flashed a bright gold. “Wouldn’t you rather be by my side than in my stomach?”

You gulped and obediently rested your head on his chest which made him purr in contentment. His muscular arms wrapped around yours as his wavy black hair tickled your skin.

“I’m joking, I’d never eat you.” Feroc smiled before he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “You’re my bride, after all.”

You didn’t need to know about how many knights he’s killed over the last few months for you. Feroc would take care of you until the day the both of you died. Every heinous act he’s ever committed over these last few months were all for his beautiful, blushing bride.

#female reader #yandere fic #yandere imagine #yandere #yandere oc #yandere original character #yandere oc x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #monster x human #yandere monster #yandere dragon #yandere headcanons #original work #tw.yandere #yandere scenarios #yandere obsession #yandere concept #yandere writer Momo #stockhom syndrome #yandere horror #yandere idea #yandere imagines #monster x reader #princess reader #yandere male #yandere boy #delusional yandere

[freelancearsonist]

Won't You Suffer for the Angels to Fly?

➔ Joel Miller x fem!Reader - 2k

➔ Joel finds religion in the last place he expected to--a preacher's daughter.

➔ Rated MA for pure blasphemy. a lot of religious imagery and defiling of holy places--please read at your own risk. unprotected p in v sex, creampie, squirting, fingering (f receiving), corruption kink, HEFTY age gap (r is early 20s [unspecified], joel is 56), reader uses feminine pronouns and has female anatomy [please let me know if i missed anything at all :)]

➔ this is for my mid to plus!sized readers :) you're beautiful and valid and i love you. this was written in basically one sitting after i binged mike flanagan's midnight mass in one night. thank you to my lovelies @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin and @shakespeareanwannabe for talking me through this <3 title is from "heaven only knows" by bob moses

The Bible teaches–at least according to what Joel was able to gleam from the Easter service–that everything happens for a reason. That every pelting raindrop in its descent from the sky, even before it lands heavy and dark in his hair or soaks the lush green landscape of Jackson, has a purpose.

He’s struggled a lot with purpose ever since hearing that existential crisis-inspiring sermon that Tommy had dragged him to. 

In the preacher’s defense, it went over well with everyone else. So many people are lost nowadays, adrift in a world that doesn’t seem to have space for them. They need that hope, that reassurance that they’re here for a reason. That they’ve survived hell on earth not out of luck, but out of purpose. He pulled out the big gun that everyone needed to hear on one of the two days a year that everyone in Jackson has their ears open to him. It was tactful, and Joel has to acknowledge that. Your father is clever, if not cunning.

It’s a trait that you’ve learned directly from him, whether purposeful or not. But you sat right in the front row and nodded along to every word, accepting without thought or conflict that purpose is in every action, every reaction, every change of tide and every gust of wind.

And if everything has a purpose, your purpose must be to torture him.

You never have anything but a smile on your face for Joel. Joel, a man older than your own father, a man whose hands have broken every commandment that you hold so dear. A man that should know better than to let you get under his skin and infect his dreams.

He wonders what it would be like to hold someone so perfectly untainted in hands that have killed and destroyed and sinned. Hands that are strong, hands that are experienced, hands that are greedy. He’s certain he could teach you all about greed. He could make you beg, plead, sob for more and more and more until the only thought remaining in your pretty little head is how much you want to take from him. Until you become a glutton at the altar of his generosity.

And oh, how generous he could be once he had you begging. Minding your manners and asking nicely for what you need, of course, but he would never deny you anything you asked of him.

“Can I help you with that, Mr. Miller?” He hadn’t even noticed he was struggling–and he wouldn’t be, really, if he wasn’t so distracted. Putting new legs on a pew isn’t the issue after all; it’s the fact that you’re sitting there on the stairs that lead up to the altar and absentmindedly swinging your legs as if you’re taunting him. As if you understand that his resolve is slipping with every passing second he’s alone in this room with you. 

“Joel.”

“Hmm?” You shift your posture to lean closer, and that skirt that’s already way too short to be worn by the pastor’s daughter, in a house of God of all places, rides just a little further up your deliciously full thighs. 

How is he expected to work, to keep his mind on the job, when all he wants is to know what those thighs might feel like wrapped around his head?

He clears his throat and adjusts “You can call me Joel, sweetheart.”

He sees it, then. It’s so subtle, but it’s not imagined. You squirm at the pet name, at the raspy drawl of his voice, and it changes everything for him.

He sees in his mind the sweet girl, barely out of her teens, who sits in the front pew with a Bible in her lap. He sees the girl who sings so sweetly to the tune of every hymn. He sees the girl who’s so shy that she blushes every time she catches his gaze.

And then he sees everything underneath the act. He sees the girl who’s bold enough to wear a bright red dress to the Easter service. He sees the girl who makes eye contact with him across the dining hall every night to watch the way he reacts to her lips wrapped so tantalizingly smoothly around her spoon. He sees the girl who knew he would be alone in the chapel today–the girl who wore an easily accessible skirt just for the occasion.

You bookmark the page you’re on and set down the book you were reading, eyes fixated on him all the while. “Is there something I can help with, Joel?”

There certainly is, and it’s not the pew he’s supposed to be repairing.

He remembers, vaguely, hearing something about how God spares guilt from sinners when sin is necessary. It must be necessary to teach you a lesson, then–as you stride over and kneel beside him, your eyes heavy with anticipation and lashes fluttering, he doesn’t feel an ounce of guilt.

“Hasn’t your daddy taught you not to dress like this?” He takes the hem of your skirt idly in his hand, rubs the silky fabric between his thumb and forefinger. He’s not touching you, not really, but his hand is so achingly close. An inch or two, and he’d feel your warmth–those plush thighs that God created to rule over Joel Miller’s mind, body, and soul; ‘til death does he finally know peace, amen.

You shake your head and even manage to seem smug as you say, “No. He just teaches everyone else to resist temptation.”

“I’ve never been much good at that,” he murmurs.

He thinks that you know that. He thinks that you’re his crucible, his most important moral trial–that maybe, if he can turn you away now, he’s a good man.

Joel Miller is not a good man. His kiss is crushing. It’s hellfire, it’s brimstone, it’s everything you’ve been taught to fear your entire life. You melt into it so prettily, accepting your damnation with parted lips and eager eyes. A wanton moan gets caught in your throat when his hand slips further up your skirt. 

No panties–in a place of worship, no less. He should bend you over his knee for this transgression, make sure you understand how filthy you are. But there’s hardly time for that now, not when he’s even more desperate than you are. And you are desperate–dripping down his fingers into the palm of his hand as your teeth leave perfect little indents in the plush skin of your bottom lip.

His free hand grips your chin firmly, guiding your eyes to his. He wants to see your depravity, the flickering embers of lust in your eyes as you come on his fingers and cry out for salvation from the all-consuming pleasure.

“Oh my God–”

His hand tightens around your jaw just the slightest bit in warning. “No, baby. You moan my name when I’m touchin’ you.”

And you do–thighs trembling, eyes watering, you cry out his name like a prayer as your cunt pulses and squeezes around his willing fingers.

There’s an unpracticed tremble to your hand as you reach to work open his belt, and it makes his cock throb under the confining material of his jeans.

You want every inch of his skin pressed against yours, so desperate for it that you’re nearly in tears when he pulls your fingers away from the buttons on his shirt. He’s not foolish–no one steps foot into this place during the week, but he knows better than to tempt God’s sense of humor. This has to be quick and contained, and you know it too; you picked your little skirt for exactly that reason.

He catches a glimpse of your glistening need as you settle over his thighs, and once again he battles to resist temptation. He whispers in your ear as you settle your chest against his and grind that fluttering, sensitive cunt along his length–promises himself more than you, really, that he’ll bury his face in your folds and drink from you next time. Next time–the promise makes you clench impossibly hard around nothing.

His eyes have never been quite as heavy as they are when you start to sink that dripping heat down his cock. Head tipped back, throat exposed, completely at your mercy. He has to force himself to look up at you–to worship the goddess enshrined on his altar, all his for the taking.

You bite into your lip nearly hard enough to draw blood as your hips settle against his, completely overwhelmed by the burning stretch of his size. He’s a challenge, certainly, but one that you are determined to overcome. 

“Easy, baby girl,” he grumbles as you start to rock against him before you’re truly accommodated. His hands rest heavy on your hips–not anchoring, but encouraging. As wrong–as depraved–as this may be, he wants you to enjoy it without pain. “That’s right, nice and slow.”

It doesn’t stay that way, though; the desperation mounts to a boiling point until you’re bouncing fervently in his lap. It’s delicious, the way the thick head of him drags against something deep and sensitive within you. He guides you when your thighs start to burn, grip tightening enough to leave forbidden bruises in the soft flesh of your hips. His mouth presses to yours, breathing the oxygen straight from your lungs as he presses his hips up. There’s nothing you can do but take it, pliant in his hold, head rolling back to accommodate the wet drag of his mouth and the tickling scratch of his beard against your throat.

He feels it before you do–a subtle flutter as your cunt tries sucking him in even deeper. And maybe, if he was a good man, he’d lean away from it and have mercy on you. But he’s not a good man–he’s a greedy, wanton, desperate man. He angles his hips and thrusts as hard as he can, shoving you into your release with force.

You overflow with it; gushing over him like a flood, staining his hastily pushed down jeans and the floorboards beneath.

He pushes you onto your back like you’re weightless, adrenaline coursing as he starts to slam into you. It’s not polite or sweet or loving–he fucks into you and empties himself like an animal. He growls deep in his throat as his cock pulses within you, instructing you to “take it, baby girl” as if you’d consider anything less. 

You don’t know where your release ends and his begins. All you know is his weight on top of you, his mouth on your jaw, the collective breathless pants that fill the room as you both come down together.

You’re not sure how long it is before he pulls out of your warmth with an actual whine, breath heavy against your neck where his face is so comfortably nestled.

And you start to laugh, because you wish you’d worn panties after all–you don’t know how you’re going to get home with the mess of cum that’s dripping down the curve of your ass.

He even chuckles with you, until he tears his eyes away from your blissed face and sees the cross hanging heavy on the far wall.

“Th-that…” he gulps. “That can’t happen again.”

“It can,” you assure him, and he supposes you’re right.

You keep your head down and your eyes to yourself on Sunday, even as you spot the barely-noticeable stain on the hardwood floor next to the newly-repaired pew on the right side of the aisle. It’s so faint that no one would notice it unless they were looking for it, but it’s glaringly obvious to you. You should be ashamed; you should be begging for forgiveness. But then you meet Joel’s watchful eyes, and the shame washes away. How can you feel guilty over an act of worship?

THE END

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[fangirl-dot-com]

Chapter 5 - Put it into Speed Drive

Longer chapter this time! The next update probably won't be until Tuesday, and or Wednesday night and then Thursday.

For planning, after 2023 is up, I will not be keeping up with the actual schedule for the races. The chapters will still come in chronological order, but it won't be week by week. This will be the start of the parallel universe.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please comment! And now enjoy the show :)

You were practically buzzing after the suit fitting. It was just one step closer to getting you in the car. Which would happen very soon. Sunday to be exact. Tomorrow. There were just so many words to describe how soon it was. 

You went from no open doors in F1 to a door that was blown to bits and then shredded, leaving a giant hole for you to just walk through. However, your daydreams of blowing doors up were interrupted by the growl of you stomach. You walked through the door of the fitting room and found Vito right where you left him. 

Such a good manager. 

He was talking to someone though, and you really didn’t want to interrupt. But, your stomach was about to commence in the whale mating call song and you really didn’t want anyone to hear that. Your eyes glanced around before they landed on Mitch, who seemed to just be typing on her tablet. 

You quickly walk over and tap her on the shoulder. “Mitch, uh, where would I be able to find some food?” 

She looked up from her tablet with a smile. Dang, did she just smile at everything? 

“I can take you to get some food if you’d like me to?” she responded. You quickly nodded your head. Taking the lead, Mitch started to walk over to the other side of the sim room. How many rooms were connected to this place? You wondered as she opened a door. 

“This room is one of the more private areas, which in return, gets its own side of the building. From here you’re able to reach just about any other place.” Now that was creepy, could she read your mind? 

Your face must have been in a contemplative look as she let out a small laugh. The walk was short as the two of you entered an all-while room. A small cooking bar was to the left while tables and chairs littered the rest of the floor. Your mouth was wide open. 

You told Mitch, “Dams is not this nice.” A pout came from you. 

“Well, now you don’t have to be jealous. You know that you work here now,” she reminded you as she took a tray and began to walk down the bar. You followed her doing and picked up your own tray. Looking up, you gazed over the menu, trying to find something that looked like it would fit in your diet. 

“By the way, everything here is supposed to go hand in hand with a driver’s diet. So pick anything you’d like,” a voice said from behind the counter. A woman with a hairnet smiled as you finally decided on a club sandwich with some chips (the crunchy kind – not French fries). Once you got your food, you walked over to the table next to the window where Mitch was already sitting. 

You quickly remember that you practically left Vito, so you shot him a quick text letting him know where you were. In typical fashion, she just sent a thumbs up emoji. What a dad. 

The two of you ate in silence for a bit, before Mitch spoke up. 

“So kid, tell me a little bit about yourself.” She took a bite of her sandwich. 

You quickly swallowed. “Uh, I’m 20 years old. I’m from a lot of places, didn’t really stay in one place for long. The longest I stayed anywhere was Texas for 5 years (a.n. shameless plug). I’m pretty introverted and don’t normally talk to others first. I have a little apartment in Nice, but now I think I should look for one close to here. I am an only child. And Danny DeVito is my spirit animal.” 

Mitch almost spit out her drink as her shoulders began to shake. That also got you laughing. “What about you?” you questioned back. You were beginning to feel sad because your sandwich was almost gone. 

“Well, I am 35. I have been at Red Bull for two years now. I was an engineer before this and worked on the car. I don’t have any kids.” 

You interrupted her, “Well now you do.” You pointed at yourself before taking a giant slurp of your drink. 

She rolled her eyes before continuing, “I’ve lived in London my whole life. I have a degree in engineering as well. And my favorite season is fall.” 

Small talk continued as you finished your lunch, or almost dinner. As you looked out the window, you saw that the sun was about to begin to set. You hadn’t realized how long everything had taken. A yawn escaped your lips as you and Mitch made your way back to the simulator room. There Vito was waiting for you, looking ready to go. Saying goodbye with a hug, you told Mitch that you’d see her bright and early for the test drive. 

Not wanting to get left behind, you found yourself sticking to Vito as he guided the two of you back down the poster hallway. At least now you were familiar with the turns and twists. Like the past few days, a car was waiting for you outside. Vito slipped into the driver’s seat while you went around and climbed into the passenger side. 

You immediately connected your phone to sound system. You snickered as you chose the song. 

Vito groaned when he heard the opening notes. You could only laugh as the beat started to pick up. 

“Ah-ah Barbie you’re so fine, you’re so fine you blow my mind. Jump into the driver seat and put it into speed drive,” you sang, directed at Vito. To hear the base a bit more, you turned the volume up. However, when it came to the next verse, and you were about to start yelling, your phone began to ring. 

Arthur’s contact photo, one of you at his birthday, popped up. You immediately answered the face time and yelled. 

“Dude, you threw off my groove!” His laughs could be heard throughout the car as his face got into the camera range.  

“I’m sorry?” 

“You should be. What’s up?” 

“I wanted to see if you wanted to hang out later tonight? Since I’m here for testing.” You froze and looked at Vito with wide eyes. You quickly pointed your phone towards the roof of the car. 

You mouthed, “What do I do?” You were scared. What were you supposed to say? Oh hey Arthur, I actually signed a multi-year contract with Red Bull two days ago. Sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner? You definitely could not do that. 

Yet, a slight jut of Vito’s head told you that you could tell him the truth. You inhaled sharply. 

“I’m actually not in Paris at the moment.” Arthur paused. . You only hoped that he wouldn’t be mad at you. 

“You’re not? I thought you were going to be sim testing.” 

“I thought so to. And then I might have gotten a text from…” you muttered the last bit. 

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.” He put a hand to his ear. 

You huffed before you shouted, clearly overwhelmed. “I got a text from Christian Horner and I’m driving with Red Bull for 2024!” Your shallowed breaths filled the air. Vito’s hand was placed on your knee for comfort. 

“Well, duh. I knew that dummy?” 

“Hello?” you could only get out. Who told him? 

“You do know that even though my brother may not seem to be friends with Max, they actually are. And Max likes to talk, so he told my brother and my brother told me.” Your eyes must have been bulging. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” you sighed, “I didn’t know if I could.” 

Arthur responded, “It’s quite alright. It was fun making you panic for a moment.” 

“You’re an ass. First you interrupt my wonderful concert that Vito was enjoying…” 

“I was not,” Vito leaned towards the phone. 

“As I was saying, men the woman is speaking, and then you decide to make me almost spiral into a panic attack. Not nice TurTur.” You wiggled your finger at the screen. 

He smiled, “I’m actually here in London as well. Thought you might want some company. And Vito invited me to see you drive tomorrow. I’m waiting in your room.” He showed you a room that was almost identical to the one you had at the hotel. You squealed at the thought of seeing him. 

It was a good thing that the car had pulled up to the hotel, because you seat belt flew off in record time. You barely were able to get a quick thank you to the workers before you got to the elevator. You’re sure you pressed the buttons too many times, but the damn thing wouldn’t open any quicker. 

The moment the doors open, you bolted inside, but came into contact with a body, that knocked the two of you over. You said a quick apology before darting to the side and getting in the elevator. You barely saw a neon hoodie and some brown curls before the doors closed. 

Pressing hard down on your floor button, you willed the elevator to move quicker. After what felt like forever, the box dinged. You dashed down the carpeted hallway as you took your key card out of your pocket. 

Although you barely swiped it, the lock beeped and let you into the room. 

Arthur was not expecting you to all but tackle him as you dive bombed into his arms. The forced knocked the both of you off the bed. The pile of limbs and bodies that you and your best friend were ended up in a pile on the floor. You could not stop laughing as you held him tighter. 

You needed him, especially after these past stressful days. Remembering what he did earlier, you pulled back and started to hit him. His hands raised up and tried to defend against your much smaller hands. 

“You” -hit- “are” -smack- “an” -whack- “ass Arthur Leclerc.” 

“Ouch woman, you hurt me,” he feigns as he puts a hand on his heart. Your attacks died down as you hauled yourself off the floor. You held out a hand, he took it, and you lifted him as well. But the moment he was upright, you pushed him over on the bed. His giggles left his mouth. Instead of getting up like you thought he would, he snuggled more into your bed. 

You might as well join him. Hiking your leg up, you rolled him over some before slotting yourself in the space next to him. He let out a noise of complaint, even though he basically opened you with opened arms. 

“I’m glad you’re here. It’s been very stressful,” your words were muffled as you put your head on his chest. 

He let out a scoff, “Sure. You’ve been playing around in the top of the line simulator.” 

Whack. 

“Would you stop that?” he questioned as he dug his fingers into your sides. Laughter soon tumbled out of your lips before you could stop them. 

“Arthur, stop it!” You tried to force his hands away. But because of your smaller build, he was able to continue the attacks. 

A knock at the door saved your life. You all but rolled off the bed, out of Arthur’s arms, and walked to the door. However, you flipped Arthur off before your hand reached the knob. On the other side of the door, Vito stood with his phone in his hand. He looked up once the door was all the way opened. 

“Hi Vito. What’s up?” you asked with head cocked to the side.

“You two up for some karaoke?” He looked over your shoulder at Arthur, who was still sprawled on the bed. 

“I’m down for it. Hey Arthur!” you yelled, Vito wincing at the volume. 

Arthur’s head popped up. “Yeah?” 

“Karaoke?”

He smirked. “Hell yeah.” 

A couple of hours later, you found yourself with Arthur in a karaoke room. Vito had been blacked out for a while on the couch. 

“COUNTRY ROAD, TAKE ME HOME, TO A PLACE, WHERE I BELONG!” Arthur sang into the very cheap looking microphone. 

You continued, sounding as equally bad, “WEST VIRGINA, MOUTAIN MOMMA, COUNTRY ROAD, TAKE ME HoOOoooOOOmE!” 

The song ended and you and Arthur took a mock bow. 

Arthur chanted, “Next song, next song, next song.” Yeah, he was definitely gone. 

“Since you ruined this earlier, I’m picking this one.” You clicked on a button. The familiar beats from earlier that day filled the small room. Arthur groaned from beside you. “Nuh-uh. This is your faut, and now you have to pay the price.” 

Half-heartedly, Arthur began to sing, “She my best friend in the whole world.” He pointed at you while singing the lyrics. You placed your hands on your chest and mocked a sincere look. He only shoved your head away and continued. 

You decided that standing on the table was a good place to sing the chorus, “AH AH BARBIE YOU’RE SO FINE, YOU’RE SO FINE YOU BLOW MY MIND” 

Arthur finally got into it, “JUMP INTO THE DRIVERS SEAT AND PUT IT INTO SPEED DRive…” the music was suddenly shut off. 

An angry looking worker walked in and told you to get off the table and to leave for the night. You sheepishly got down, walked over to Vito with Arthur, woke him up, and you three were on your way. 

The two of you looked like kids who had to be taken home after getting in trouble with the principal at the school. However, that wouldn’t stop the snickers and giggles that soon filled the whole car, Vito included. 

You were glad that it wasn’t too late. The next morning would be terrible if you didn’t have a good night’s sleep. 

Arthur made sure to get what time everyone was leaving before retiring to his room for the night. You made sure to post some things on your Instagram story before heading to bed. 

You were surprised you had gotten some sleep, because when you woke up, you couldn’t stop shaking. Not know if it was from excitement or nervousness, you got ready quickly. There was a fruit bowl in your room. For breakfast, you indulged in a banana and an orange. Vito probably arranged for a bigger breakfast to be served at the practice track. 

You met up with Arthur and Vito in the lobby. You nudged him as you walked passed. 

“You ready?” he asked as he followed you to the car that was waiting under the walkway. 

“As I’ll every be.” There was a slight hitch in your tone that told Arthur everything he needed to know. 

After the two of you climbed into the back seats, and Vito in the passenger seat, Arthur put his arm around you. Just the feeling of his company helped to ease the anxiety that was bubbling inside you. It seemed to grow with each corner that got you closer and closer to the track. 

There would be quite a few people there today, more than you would like. But each person was necessary. The track was farther and out of the city. 

You knew that Mitch would have your suit and helmet ready for you once you got there. You would be debrief on the track and how the car should behave. You would be doing a mock race, but it would still be shorter than most races – about 50 laps or so. 

Your goal that you had gone over with Mitch would be to set one of the fastest test laps. Your time to beat was 1 minute and 19.721 seconds. You thumbs-upped the message and said that you’d try your best. 

The car slowed down as it approached the entrance. And before you knew it, you were in your suit and balaclava as Mitch talked with you once more before you started getting in the car. It was one of the newer cars, the RB 17. 

You saw Christian approach and you checked over a few more things. 

“You like the car?” he asked, nodding his head over to the machine behind him. 

“I love it. Can’t wait to see how she drives. Was she driven for any races?” You were curious and wanted to know. 

He smirked. “That is Max’s championship car.” Your hands froze, holding your zipper. You looked up at Christian, eyes wide. You gulped. 

“Aha, very funny.” 

“I’m not joking.” His face was deadpanned. 

“Well, I will try to be careful with it.” He only laughed and put a hand on your shoulder. 

“You just drive the car like you normally do. The sim showed me everything I need to know.” With that, he walked closer to the wall and put a on a set of headphone.

“No pressure Y/n,” you told yourself. Breathing in and out, you put your helmet on. Arthur decided to walk up and clip the two straps for you, something he often did before your races. You both did your little handshake before he patted you shoulder. He was also given some headphones, along with Vito. They were all counting on you. 

You stepped closer to the car. Lifting your leg, you swung it over, then the other. You shimmied down into the car and connected the things that needed to be connected. The men around you started to lower the car and take off the different machinery. You would start the track on medium tires. You were told that after the first half, you could switch to the softs if you think you needed to. 

The final parts of the car were put on and you were handed the steering wheel. You carefully placed the connect parts together as you felt the car turned on. You could feel it almost breathing. It was alive. 

You were able to taxi the car out onto the mock grid. 

“Alright Y/n, radio check,” Mitch’s voice came on through your helmet. 

“If I can have a walk up song for Vegas, I heard a rumor that that was coming back, and if I get introduced, can it be Life is a Highway? Please?” 

“Radio is working,” Mitch responded. 

“Please Mitch?” you prodded. You heard a sigh as you smiled. 

“We can discuss later. I will ask Christian.” You did a small pump of your hands before getting back into the zone. From where you were, you had a good view of the lights. 

Breathe in. Breathe out. Speed. I am speed. 

Red. Red. Red. 

Green. 

Your feet hit the pedals and off you went for the “warming up” lap. The track had a good mix of straights and turns to warm up the tires. 

The first few laps after went smoothly. But, you knew it wasn’t time for your flying lap. To keep it fair, the past drivers only had one lap to set a time. 

You pressed the button for the radio, “There seems to be some unbalance on Turn 5. I don’t know if it’s the track or the car.” Your voice sounded rattly. 

“Checking,” Mitch responded back at the “pit lane.” 

Christian piped up from her right, “Max has said that before about that exact turn. It’s uncanny.” 

“Ok kid, it seems like it might be an issue with the track. Try to avoid it by slowing down to go wide, but accelerate going out of the apex.” 

“Roger,” you responded. On the next lap, you did exactly that. And you were pleased to see that it actually worked. 

“Balance of the car is good.” 

“Thank you Y/n.” 

“Can I come in for softs? I want to try the flying lap.” 

“Ok, box for softs.” 

You pulled your car into the pit lane. It wasn’t the fastest pit stop you’ve had, but it really didn’t matter. You did a few laps on the softs. Although you knew the track would eat them up, you also knew that you did your best laps on slightly used softs. 

Christian spoke up again, “She knows that softs run out quickly. She should have done the flying lap on the first one.” 

Now, Arthur talked first, “She does all of her best laps on slightly used softs. It’s how she’s won so many races. Because Y/n knows her tires better than anyone.” Christian hummed as he watched your dot go around the animated track. 

The radio beeped as a message came from your car, “I’m gonna go for it. Starting the flying lap.” 

Mitch responded, “Copy.” The team waited with baited breath and you seemed to glide around the turns. 

You were truly one with whatever car you drove. 

The clocked seemed to tick in slow motion as you finally came to the last straight. Once you passed the line, you slowed down just a bit. 

“Ok Mitch, how did I do?” you asked. 

She breathed before responding, “One minute, nineteen point 7 seconds. Congratulations kid, you have broken our current record. Your cheers could be heard over the radio. They mixed with the team’s own cheering as well. You were just .021 seconds faster than whoever held the previous record. And you did it in a two, almost, three year old car. 

“Who used to hold the position?” 

This time, Christian’s voice came on over the radio, “It was Max, kid.” 

You let out a laugh of disbelief, before realizing that Christian was on the radio. 

“Christian, can my walk up song for Vegas be Life is a Highway. Please.” You waited for his answer. 

“Sure kid.” 

“Yes! Best day ever! Can I got another lap? I want to put this baby into speed drive. Vito! Arthur!”

“On it kid.” 

“Got it Y/n!” 

You guessed one of them held their phones to the radio. This time you would hear the entire song. You knew it. You shimmied back down into the seat and floored the throttle. 

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#charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x driver!reader #max verstappen x reader #platonic grid x reader #arthur leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #formula 1 x you #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #logan sargeant x reader #george russell x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #alex albon x reader

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Daddy Lessons 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Rafe Cameron

Summary: You agree to tutor for the Cameron's, but find your student less than cooperative.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

There aren’t many summer jobs in Hammer Ford, but you promised your parents you would find something. Without any response from the grocery store, cafe, or library, your search is hopeless. That’s until you ran into Rose Cameron.

“Weren’t you valedictorian?” She asked.

The scene plays over in your head as you step off your bike to walk it up the hill. What luck that she found you picking out flowers with your mother. Almost as if she’d been looking for you.

“Uh, yeah, last year,” you smiled. 

It’s been a year since high school ended, since then you’d spent two semesters outside the hamlet. In the city, people don’t just come up to you for no reason, and rarely a good one. Nor do they know you by name. Your home town seems more quaint the longer you’re away from campus.

“Great, I need a tutor,” she tutted, “how’s fifty an hour?”

You shake your head as you straddle your bike again. It’s an offer you really can’t pass up, even if the Camerons weren’t the most friendly family in Hammer Ford. It doesn’t matter as long as you can tell your parents you have a job.

You pedal east towards the house on the hill. You’ve never been up there. Not even in high school when everyone was going on about the ragers at the Cameron ranch. It was never really your scene. That and you weren’t invited.

You slow as you approach the low fence, breathless as you stop by the closed gate. Do you let yourself in? There’s a gold bell mounted on the post. You ring it and it sends a thunderous toll through the air. 

You wait, looking around, though you don’t know if anyone’s coming. Someone appears across the field. You recognise Ward Cameron as he nears, waving a gloved hand as he does.

“Hi, Mr. Cameron, um…” you hold onto your handlebars and dismount, “Rose, uh, asked me to drop by.”

“Sure thing,” he unhooks the inside of the gate, “I was just brushing Juliet.”

“Oh, okay,” you smile.

“You can work in the dining room if that works, or the back porch? It’s pretty nice out,” he lets you through the gate and secures it before he points you towards the house. “Really glad you could come out. We went to an agency in the city but they wanted us to go to them.”

“Um, yeah, sure, no problem,” you peer over at a foal and its mother in a pen, “nice place.”

“You think so? Does it look different in the day?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, I know about the parties,” he chortles, “it’s fine.”

“Well, I never…” you rub the back of your neck, “anyway, I guess we can study where Sarah wants.”

“Sarah?”

“Oh, erm, Wheezie?” You wonder.

“Did Rose not… explain?”

“I… assumed, well, she just said you needed a tutor so I thought…” You blink and chew your lip, “Rafe?”

He laughs again, “the one and only. We’re tryna get him back in good graces. He has a conditional offer in the city but he has to take an entrance exam.”

“Right,” you try not to show your discomfort. 

Rafe is a year older than you. Even so, he never failed to knock your books out of your hands or laugh in your direction. When he graduated, the student populace sighed in relief but he only made it through one semester in college before he flunked out.

“He’s not the kind for ranch work,” Ward says as he gestures you up the front steps, “frankly, I don’t know what he’s cut out for but a degree will at least give him some prospects.”

“Mhmm,” you drone nervously. If Rose had said so, you may not have been so eager. You just assumed it would be one of the two Wards still enrolled in school.

“He should be around–” he pulls open the front door and lets you in first.

You step aside to slip your shoes off as he hollers for Rafe. You glance out the screen door and wonder if you can come up with a good excuse. Your mind is racing but you come up with nothing. 

“What?” Rafe snarls as he traipses in through a broad archway.

“Tutor’s here,” Ward says.

“Tutor?” Rafe mutters.

“I told you,” he chides, “go get your books.”

“Dad, I told you, I’ll write the damn test–”

“And you’ll pass,” Ward insists, “books. Now.”

Rafe huffs and stomps upstairs. You turn around to watch him go. Ward shakes his head and beckons you onwards. You marvel at the neat interior. It’s all a lot more modern than the rest of Hammer Ford. A rustic contemporary mix of sleek white and faded pine.

“Feel free to help yourself to some water, or there’s a Keurig,” Ward offers, “I’d get you some myself but…” he holds up his gloved hands, “I doubt you like the taste of horse hair.”

You smile and nod as you slip your bag off your shoulder. 

“Thanks, uh, I’m good,” you say.

“Don’t let him get to you. I know how he can be. He gives you any trouble, I’ll deal with him.”

“Sure, uh, no, shouldn’t be an issue,” you shrug, though you sound less than convincing.

“I’ll be around,” he says and taps the door frame as he leaves.

You sit as he goes and you open your laptop on the table. Your parents bought the used model for your first year of college. It’s a bit slow but it works. You’ll just need the wifi.

A sudden slam makes you yipe and jolts the table. You look up as Rafe stands across from you, scowling. Behind your laptop, there’s several textbooks and a notebook with curling pages. You try to smile but your lips only tremble.

“Oh, hey,” you eke out, “uh, so… we can start on comprehensive literature–”

“Fuck off, dork,” he drops into the chair. 

“Well I… your dad–”

“My dad wants me to sit here and waste his money, sure thing,” he crosses his arms and rolls his eyes, “but i’m not takin’ no lessons from you.”

“Right, well, I…” you don’t know what to say. “Can I have the wifi at least?”

He doesn’t acknowledge your question as he pulls out his phone. You think he’s looking it up but he just sits and scrolls, his floppy hair drooping down his forehead. You fidget and flutter your fingers listlessly over the keyboard.

You should just go but you need the money. You close the laptop and reach for one of the textbooks. You open it and smooth the pages with your hand.

“Right, rules of grammar,” you begin, “nouns, pronouns, verbs–”

“Fucking dweeb,” he drops his phone and stands up, “for someone so smart, you sure are fucking dumb.”

“Identifying sentences…” you focus on the page as he paces.

“You think you’re so fucking clever,” he startles you as he pulls out the chair next to you, sitting in it as his elbow hits the table.

“Read the following and underline–” you angle the book towards him, silence by a jarring squeeze on your throat.

You recoil as his hand closes on the front of your neck and you push yourself back in the chair. You grab his wrist and choke, wiggling in your seat. What is he doing?

“What–”

“Shhhhh,” he puts his finger to his lips then presses it to yours, “you talk too much.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed, pulling helplessly on his arm. He smirks as he leans forward, pulling you towards him.

“You think you’re better than me?” He snarls, “let’s see about that.”

#rafe cameron #dark rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #drabble #au #series #daddy lessons #backwoods au #obx #the outer banks

[oepionie]

— "A SLIP OF TONGUE." draconia

SYNOPSIS: Some arranged marriage crumbs with Malleus <3

⊹ [ cw ] — arranged marriage, reader wears dress◞

⊹ [ tags ] — a drabble, fem! reader, malleus is described to have draconic features, draconic rizz◞

⊹ [ w.c ] — 0.8k+◞ | 🦇masterlist◞

IT WAS A DUTY you must see through to the end. The Merryweathers had a high standing in society and it was crucial that you, the eldest daughter, married into a powerful family. You would be able to strengthen your position with the nobility through such union.

It was such a tantalizing preposition that you couldn't help yourself. Even if it meant begrudgingly marrying a man your father chose for you.

The diamond-encrusted headpiece threaded into your hair weighed heavy, strenuous on your neck, and dreadfully difficult to move around with. Ten layers of fine white silk and lace rest against your form, draping and swaying against the breeze of the damp garden. If not for your current situation, the day would have been perfect.

The upcoming wedding had pushed the entire Draconia palace into a state of barely controlled chaos and turmoil. In every second of the day, you were flooded with dress fittings, laced wedding invites, nosy handmaidens, and many more. The courtyard outside the castle was the only place you could get away from the wedding festivities.

It was peaceful, free from the thundering demands of the queen and bare of any busy-bee maids and workers.

The air smelled pleasantly of wildflowers and moss. Small sunbeams found their way through your braided hair, sparkling and reflecting off of the jewels in your crown.

The year had passed in a blur and before you knew it, it was spring.

"Dearest?" Startled, you almost sprang out of your skin. Turning round, you found Malleus standing by the garden entrance. He was dressed in a dark gothic suit, a thick tailcoat layered atop. "I was wondering where you'd gone off to."

It was fortunate, you thought, that you had a veil draped across your face. Because the moment he began to approach you, your jaw went slack, mouth running dry. With each thundering step of his boots, your head hammered and your thoughts melted into mush.

The distance between you was quickly closed as he towered over you, the front of his torso brushing against yours. Bowing his head low, your fiancé's dark eyes briefly swept over your figure, devouring the savory sight of your form draped in the flowy dress. Though hesitant, you mustered the courage to address him and bowed.

Malleus' eyes bore into yours as he trailed a leather clad hand down your arm, taking a hold of your wrist and lifting it to his lips. It was commonly known that noblemen tended to avoid showing affection in public as they had to maintain a proper image. So you were perplexed to see him displaying such open adoration towards you.

"My bride," he murmurs, voice baritone and deep, rumbling his chest. The fae could see how you trembled in his presence, an apprehensive smile stretched across your lips. "How are you fairing?"

"I…I am well." Cursing yourself for the uncertainty lace in your voice, you drew your hand back, gaze stone cold as you toyed with the edges of your robes. "I am just…just trying to process everything right now."

"I see," was his flat response.

The draconic prince was all what people had horrifyingly depicted him as. Tall, dark, imposing, and frightfully powerful. And yet, in all the ways he was intimidating and overpowering, he was beautiful.

There the sound of a faintest swish as his scaled tail brushed against the lush grass. Translucent grey scales glistened on the skin of his arms, and his eyes were a dazzling jade that sparkled green when you peered into them. His fingers were claw-like, and his nails were black as obsidian.

Before you could stop yourself, your lips move on its own, a sugared yet genuine compliment dripping from your tongue.

"You're…beautiful."

Then there is silence.

Malleus shakily exhales, his eyes skimming over your form, wide and gleaming with suppressed excitement.

You on the other hand, are terrified, horrified, by the slip of the tongue, and you rush to explain yourself. A stream of explanations tumble off your lips. Though you were unable to make sense of what you were even saying, it was more like the rambles of madman.

"Beautiful, hm?" Malleus grins, fangs shining underneath beams of sun. He slots himself closer to your body, a strong arm wrapping itself around your waist. Your mind is dizzy and you find comfort in tucking your face into the crook of his neck. The sound of his amused chuckle rumbles against your burning cheeks as he utters his gratitude.

"It-It was a slip of tongue, I didn't mean to-" You stammer but Malleus presses the pad of his finger against your glossy lips, shutting you up. He leans in close, the scent of his cool cologne filling your senses as his hands knead the flesh of your hips. "Oh, I'm sure it was, my queen."

Sevens help you.

—TAGLIST:

꒰ ♡🧷: if you want to be tagged for ALL of my works, comment here!

@keedas @spadecentral @crypticbibliophile @pastellepastary @cassidycampfire @cocomollo @poisonioushearts @kawaiipotatoghost @ramvuda @sweeneyblue1 @the-lost-anime-dad @kyraxiyn @mayaaaeo @fluffimemes @awkwardspontaneity @gussuri@lunavixia @heatofmyexoheart @pianopuppygirl @cross-crye @cerisescherries @teenage-discomfort @cecilebutcher @savanaclaw1996 @msykaroly @a-bit-late @peter-the-pan993 @imdevotedtoyou @yevenly @syl-lithy @solomonslostsock @noidonothavetimeforthis @driftaway27 @supernovaicloud @skadi-winterfell

#twisted wonderland fanfic #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #malleus x reader

[wongyuseokie]

One Trick Peony | c.s.c

Summary:  Choi Seungcheol could only do one type of floral arrangement, and the rest he’d pawn off to you, granted he got a ton of orders, but he would always take the orders for arrangements that he could never do. This time he went too far. He took an ‘only peonies’ arrangement–a painfully delicate flower–and took an order for a wedding, and with your luck, you’re the only two florists available that weekend. 

☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ♕ smut | ☁︎ mild angst |  ♥ completed works  Word Count: 4885 words Pairings: Florist!Choi Seungcheol x  Florist! Female Reader  Genre/Trope(s)/AUs: Fluff, angst, smut, frenemies to lovers, idk if thats the right word they just have a ton of digs at each other but no actual hate. 

Content Warnings: Arguing, but it’s all very childish. Cheol being a slight smartass, but Y/N also being a bit mouthy. Idiots to lover makes more sense, both are dense af. Kissing, mentions of food. Inaccurate depictions of being a florist, idk. Loud and noisy kids destroying things. Moment of self doubt. 

Smut Warnings: Unprotected sex (don’t do this irl), oral (f receiving), sorta dom! Cheol, rough sex (but its more vanilla), big dick! Cheol, multiple orgasms, squirting, riding, overstimulation, creampie, cum licking, hickies, kissing, phew I think that’s it. Cheol is an after care king. 

Authors Note: This has been written for svthub's secret garden collab. Thank you all for letting me be part of this wonderful collab. Please check out the rest of the works written by my talented friends 💕 Banner Credits: @classicscreations

Cross Posted to AO3

© wongyuseokie 2023. All rights reserved.

You knew hate was a strong word, but that was all you could feel for your coworker, Choi Seungcheol. When Seungcheol first joined the flower shop, you didn’t mind him. You realised he was only capable of making one floral arrangement. 

At first, you found it cute. You’d help him, teach him, but after a while, you realised he didn’t even pay attention, and that’s when your pettiness began, and Seungcheol matched it by being extra petty. 

“Choi Seungcheol!” You exclaimed, knowing he hated being called by his full name. 

“How many times do we have to go over this, Y/N? I don’t like being called by my first name?” Seungcheol complained, and you rolled your eyes at his whining. Seungcheol whined a lot. You’d never admit it, but it was adorable. A grown man who was tall and buff whined like a toddler. Only Seungcheol could be that cute, but he didn’t have to know. 

“Why is there an order in the system for a wedding?” You questioned. “You know that we are short-staffed right now.”

“Look. I do, but it’s only a wedding with 80 people, and this lady and her husband waited for their wedding for five years because life kept getting in the way. You wouldn’t deny a couple of that joy, would you?” Seungcheol asked hopefully, grinning widely at you. 

“Besides, I told them that the best florist in Seoul was the only choice for their special day,” Seungcheol boasted, and you scoffed. 

“Of course I am, but you? You won’t even bother helping. It’ll just be me doing all the work,” you complained. 

“I’m an excellent supervisor,” Seungcheol added. 

“No, you’re just a pain in my ass,” you mumbled. 

“Oh? You know I could help take the pain away,” Seungcheol teased, and you glared at him.

“I will break a flower vase over your pretty head if you even try,” you threatened. 

“You think my head is pretty?” Seungcheol asked, and you glared at him again before storming into the back room. 

“So, how do you want to get to the venue?” Seungcheol asked you later that evening as you were cleaning up your station. The shop was bustling, and all the arrangements came to you because Seungcheol was incompetent and too busy wooing more customers to buy more flowers without concern for your workload. 

“What venue?” You asked, gritting your teeth. 

“Ouch? What’s gotten you so huffy?” Seungcheol asked. 

“You’re no help, and now you’re here trying to be chatty,” you spat. 

“I got you so many orders, though!” Seungcheol protested. 

“I didn’t need them. You know I’m busy,” you fired back, and Seungcheol frowned. 

“Hey!” A voice interrupted, and you turned to see your manager staring at you and Seungcheol disapprovingly. 

“Look, I don’t know if this is a situation of lovers who are too blind to confess, so they just verbally abuse one another? Or if you two hate each other, cut it out, at least for the weekend. This wedding would be huge for this business, and after that, we can discuss a plan or something that involves less interaction with you both, but for two days. I need you to behave. Can you do that?” Your manager asked, and you looked at Seungcheol, who avoided your gaze. 

“Yes, I can. I don’t know about her,” Seungcheol said, throwing you a cunning smile. 

“Seungcheol,” your manager warned, making him pout. 

“You see what I have to put up with?” You complained, and your manager glared at you. 

“Two days, just two days, make it work,” your manager pleaded, looking at you and Seungcheol, and you both sighed before nodding and agreeing. 

For the sake of your job, you both would make it work. 

Choi Seungcheol [7:58 am]: Morning, darling, I’m downstairs. On time, the flowers shall be delivered to the venue. I got you coffee, so please make your way down if you don’t want to get stuck in traffic. 

You [7:59 am]: Yeah, I’ll be down. 

Choi Seungcheol [8:00 am]: So cold, should have gotten you something warm to drink instead…

Choi Seungcheol [8:01 am]: See you soon, kitten, xoxo. 

You let out a groan, kitten? How dare he call you that, and not just because that word had you feeling a certain way, but kitten? Who did he think he was? 

You grumbled to yourself, grabbed your duffle bag, and made your way out of your apartment, triple checking to ensure you locked the door four times before heading downstairs to find Seungcheol. 

“Morning, sweetheart,” Seungcheol greeted, and you shot him a look. 

“Why the nicknames?” You asked.

“I’m trying to be friendly.” 

“Well, it’s weird, so stop,” you mumbled. 

“Fine, Y/N,” Seungcheol answered with a pout. 

“Shall we? It’s a bit of a drive, and I really don’t want to get stuck in traffic,” you offered.

“Yeah, let’s go.” 

“Oh, before I forget, here I put your coffee and some breakfast muffins for snacking,” Seungcheol offered as he pointed to the console. 

“This is really kind of you, thank you.” 

“See, I can be considerate,” Seungcheol bragged. 

“Yeah, one coffee and breakfast muffin won’t change how much of a pain you are at work,” you teased, making Seungcheol pout. 

“But you’re off to a good start Choi Seungcheol,” you added, making Seungcheol groan.

“I told you I don’t like my full name being used,” Seungcheol whined. 

“Okay, why, though?” 

“It feels distant, detached and cold. I feel like I’m being told off,” Seungcheol mumbled. 

“To be fair, whenever I use your full name, I am usually telling you off,” you joked, making Seungcheol frown more. 

“You can just yell at me. That’s better than full naming me,” Seungcheol offered with a grin. 

“You got a degradation kink or something?” You asked. 

“No, but I’ll tell you my kinks if you tell me yours,” Seungcheol teased with a grin. 

“Shut up.” 

You weren’t sure when you dozed off, but the next thing you knew was Seungcheol was gently shaking you awake. 

“Hey, Y/N, we’re here,” Seungcheol said softly as you stirred awake. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry I fell asleep,” you apologised, knowing you broke a universal law. Do not fall asleep at the passenger seat. 

“It’s okay, traffic was light and honestly it was kind of peaceful,” Seungcheol teased and you glared at him. Maybe you didn’t feel that bad. 

“Come on let’s check in,” Seungcheol said as you slowly made your way out of the car, grabbed your things and headed towards the hotel. 

“I can’t believe our manager gave us a room to share,” you grumbled, as you entered the hotel suite. 

“Correction she gave us a suite to share with separate bedrooms, it’s really not that bad,” Seungcheol offered and you pouted. 

“Fine, but don’t snore loudly and disturb me,” you mumbled. 

“I do not snore!” Seungcheol protested. 

“You fell asleep in the shop once and you snored so loudly that you woke yourself up,” you teased making Seungcheol sulk. 

“Such a meanie,” Seungcheol pouted. 

“You’re adorable when you sulk,” you said with a fond smile making Seungcheol grin at you. 

“I’m always adorable,” Seungcheol corrected, and you frowned at him, but you did agree, but you’d never tell him. 

“Rise and Shine. I got you breakfast. We need to be the in the ballroom to start the decorations in an hour!” Seungcheol yelled the following day as you entered the living room. 

“I’m up,” you whined as you towelled your wet hair. 

“Aww, kitten, it’s sunny out. Put a smile on your face otherwise, you’ll ruin the delicate flowers if you’re just angry,” Seungcheol babbled, and you glared at him. 

“Hey, how do you know I like this?” You asked as you looked at the plate Seungcheol set up for you. 

“Simple, I pay attention,” Seungcheol said with a smile and you felt your heart swell. You never expected him to know so much about you, but it was the same way you knew how he liked his coffee, what his favourite colour was, and his favourite author. You didn’t have to know any of it, but you paid attention too. 

“You keep staring at me, quit it,” you muttered as you delicately arranged the peonies into a beautiful centrepiece. 

That afternoon you and Seungcheol were busy arranging the ballroom with flowers and making intricate decorations for the reception. 

“I can’t help it,” Seungcheol mumbled. 

“Why?” 

“Well, you look so beautiful doing what you love,” Seungcheol said, making you glare at him. 

“Shut up.” 

“I can, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that I meant what I said,” Seungcheol remarked with a grin. 

“You see me working all the time. How come you never compliment me then?” You challenged. 

“Because it’s usually in a full shop with other people around, and I don’t know. I only want you to hear the compliments, not everyone else,” Seungcheol offered, making you smile shyly at him. 

“Well, thank you, and for what it’s worth, you weren’t too insufferable during this trip,” you offered with a grin. 

“I call you beautiful, and you call me mildly tolerable. What does a guy have to do to win your heart?” Seungcheol said dramatically, making you grin. 

Little did he know that he didn’t have to do too much. 

“Cheol?” You called out from your bedroom, hoping Seungcheol could hear you. You detested cocktail gowns for their design, you could never reach the zipper and always ended up asking for help, and this dress had fancy straps that you couldn’t fasten. 

“You hollered?” Seungcheol asked as he entered your bedroom. 

“Seungcheol, can you please help me tie this? I promise I’m not trying to be a smartass. I’ve been at this for ten minutes, and I keep screwing up,” You asked as you held the thin strips of your halter with one hand on the back of your neck.

Seungcheol stared at you for a second and nodded, and you turned around so that your back was facing him, and Seungcheol took a deep breath when he saw that your gown was backless, placing an arm around your waist and pulling you closer.

You melted in his arms; his toned body felt like heaven against you. 

“How tight?” Seungcheol asked, his words making your core throb. 

“I’ll tell you when to stop,” you responded. You could do the same to him if he wanted to tease you. You bit your lip in an attempt to stop grinning when you heard him curse under his breath as he pulled on the straps. 

“Right there?” he asked, and you nodded.

“Use your words,” Seungcheol whispered, his hot breath against your neck. 

“Yes, right there,” you breathed out, and Seungcheol complied, tying the knot, and you felt his hands trail down your neck to your bare back, and you had to bite harder on your lip to not whimper at his touch. 

“All done,” Seungcheol mumbled, and you turned around, his face mere inches away from yours. 

“You look breathtaking,” Seungcheol complimented, making you smile. 

“So do you. I wouldn’t be surprised if all the bridesmaids flock to you,” you teased, and Seungcheol shook his head. 

“They can flock, but there’s only one girl worth my time,” Seungcheol responded, making you gulp. 

“Shall we? We can’t be late,” Seungcheol offered with a grin. 

“Yeah, let’s go,” you mumbled. You’d just have to curb your desire for him for now, but once the reception started, you would rile Seungcheol the way he had riled you up. 

Your plans were shot to hell the minute you walked into the ballroom, several of your floral arrangements had been destroyed, and you weren’t sure who did it, but you heard the giggles and screams of children in the ballroom and knew you found your culprits. 

Now, you weren’t one to yell at children, but when knocked into you, making you knock into another floral arrangement and destroy it, too, you couldn’t help but comment. 

“Kids, can you not play here? There are delicate arrangements,” you said as kindly as you could, and apparently, that was all it took for them to start crying. 

“Excuse me? How dare you make my children cry?” You heard someone accuse you and turned around to see an angry woman approaching you. 

“I didn’t mean to, but they were running around and destroying the floral arrangements,” you mumbled. 

“Uptight much? They’re children,” the lady sassed, and you were about to retort when Seungcheol interrupted. You weren’t sure when he showed up, but you were glad he did. 

“Ma’am, I apologise that your kids are upset, but really we’re doing our best to ensure the bride and groom are happy. You won’t get blamed for poor floral arrangements, but we will, so please be considerate of that,” Seungcheol responded calmly, and the lady shrank in size and offered a scowl before walking, well stomping out of the hall. 

“Jeez, there’s always someone like her everywhere. Come, I’ll fix the arrangements near the front of the hall, and you fix the pieces at the back of the hall?” Seungcheol offered, and you nodded meekly before heading off in that direction. 

“Hey, you did a beautiful job,” you complimented as you approached Seungcheol a few minutes later; he was just putting the final touches on a centrepiece. 

“Well. I have to. Your hard work shouldn’t go to waste,” Seungcheol said. 

“You have a delicate touch,” you mumbled. 

“I’ve been told I’m good with my hands,” Seungcheol said with a smirk, making you grin and roll your eyes at him. 

“I’m glad to see you smile,” Seungcheol said. 

“Don’t let what the mother said get to you, okay? She’s just mad that her kids embarrassed her,  take pride in your work. I know I do,” Seungcheol said as he leaned closer to place a kiss on your cheek. 

“I have to go help the groom find his boutonniere. I’ll see you later?” Seungcheol offered, and you smiled fondly at him. You watched him leave, and once he did, you placed your fingers over the spot he just kissed, and you swore you felt it tingle.

Seungcheol really didn’t have to do much to win your heart. He had it. The kiss just sealed the deal. 

“Alright, you’ve been pouting since that little kid knocked over that vase. I’m sure that kid feels awful. Will you now just forget it for a bit and enjoy the evening? Why don’t you dance with me?” Seungcheol offered later that evening when he saw you sulking by the bar during the reception. 

“I’m not upset about that. It’s just that when his mother called me uptight, I got annoyed,” you admitted, and Seungcheol nodded knowingly as he took a seat next to you at the bar. 

“Do you think I’m uptight?” You asked, honestly, you didn’t care for Seungcheol’s opinion, but the alcohol made you extra sensitive, and for some reason, you found yourself seeking comfort in your work enemy. 

“Nah. I think you take pride in your work, so when a kid tramples over it, you’re allowed to be upset,” Seungcheol consoled. 

“When you say it like that, I sound unreasonable, getting mad at a kid at all,” you trailed off. 

“Nah. That kid was getting really annoying. He stomped on my foot a couple of times,” Seungcheol joked, smiling when he saw you return him a brief smile. 

“What I’m trying to say is that it’s okay. It’s okay to be upset, you take pride in your work, and if anyone messes with it, well, it’s fair to be upset,” Seungcheol explained, reiterating his earlier points. 

“Thank you,” you mumbled. 

“Come on. You shouldn’t be sulking at a wedding. Come dance with me,” Seungcheol offered as he hopped off the barstool and stood in front of you, holding out his hand. 

“You? Choi Seungcheol, you’re telling me not to sulk? You’re the king of sulking!” You teased, and Seungcheol grinned. 

“Yes, but I look cute doing it,” Seungcheol boasted, making you frown and swat his hand away. 

“Go away, Cheol,” you grumbled. 

“I didn’t say you don’t look cute when you sulk, it’s painfully adorable, but I like it when you smile more,” Seungcheol clarified. 

“Smooth.” 

“Very, now, dance with me. You look beautiful, and I recall you telling a customer in the past that you love weddings, so why not enjoy this one?” Seungcheol asked. 

“You remember the shit I say?” You were surprised that Seungcheol even recalled that conversation. 

“Of course, now come, dance with me,” Seungcheol pushing his outstretched arm towards you, you smiled as you took his hand, and he guided you towards the dance floor. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” Seungcheol asked as he started to dance with you, his arms were around your waist as your hands wrapped around his neck. 

“Maybe, once.” 

“I should say it more, I cannot take my eyes of you,” Seungcheol complimented making you shyly hide your face in his chest. 

“Why the sudden flattery?” You ask. 

“It’s not sudden, I always try to do the same at work, but you’re usually busy biting, actually you are rightfully biting my head off at work,” Seungcheol corrected making you smile. 

“Then why be so annoying?” You asked making him laugh. 

“How else do I get your attention?” Seungcheol asked, and you smiled at him. 

“Okay, I have to know, you sure you don’t like being scolded, like there’s not a hidden sub inside you?” You teased. 

“Kitten, this is the second time you’ve asked about my kinks, you sure you don’t want to just find out?” Seungcheol asked, and you leaned up slightly to softly place your lips against his. 

“Show me,” you whispered as you pulled away from his lips, and Seungcheol couldn’t get the two of you out of the ballroom quick enough. 

The elevator trip and the walk back to the room was very quiet but not awkward, Seungcheol held your hand the entire way, and you were glad because his grip made you feel grounded when you were starting to float on cloud nine. 

Once you were inside the room, Seungcheol had you Seungcheol pressed his lips to yours, and you kissed him back. His lips were even softer than you could have dreamt of. They felt full and plush as they moved against yours.

You melted into the kiss when you felt Seungcheol’s hands move along your body, his fingers pressing into your waist and back, making you moan into the kiss. 

“Is that all you got?” you teased, as you mumbled against his lips, and Seungcheol smirked into the kiss as his hands moved up your exposed back, his fingers tracing your bare skin and sliding his hands down to your clothed waist, his hands moving up your stomach resting just below your covered breast. 

“More?” Seungcheol asked, moving his lips away from yours to place them on your neck as he started to place soft kisses there, making you whimper at his touch. 

“Can I take this off?” Seungcheol asked, and you nodded furiously, making him smile; he placed another kiss on your lips and quickly stripped you off your clothes, leaving you only in your panties, leaving your breasts exposed to him. 

“Fuck,” Seungcheol groaned out, and you smiled shyly at him as he pulled you into his embrace and carried you over to sit you down on the couch. Seungcheol’s lips found your neck as he sucked love bites into your neck, and his hands gently moved down to your hips. Large hands moved to grab your ass, pulling you tight against him; a string of moans and swear words left your mouth as you felt his hard length rub against your clothed pussy. 

“Cheol,” you whined out. 

“Yes?” 

“I need you,” you breathed out, and that’s all Seungcheol needed as he carried you into his bedroom, laid you on the bed, and quickly rid himself of his clothes. 

Once naked, Seungcheol crawled between your thighs and groaned when he saw the wet patch on your panties. 

“Fuck, let me have a taste, kitten,” Seungcheol said, and you only whimpered, spreading your legs further to accommodate him; Seungcheol moved quickly, pulling your panties off and throwing them across the room. 

Once greeted by your bare, glistening pussy Seungcheol knew needed to taste you, and he placed his plump lips on your clit, and started to suck, your hands twisted in his soft hair. You felt him sliding two fingers into your cunt, making you moan at the stretch, it felt so good, and Seungcheol stuck his tongue out, flicking your clit, making your back arch. 

Seungcheol smirked against your cunt, as he decided to pick up the pace, moving his fingers more quickly inside you, his mouth never leaving your clit. You kept whimpering and moaning, which only made Seungcheol increase his speed. Your legs shook as you came for him, falling apart on his tongue and finger. Seungcheol groaned as he tasted your cum, smirking, pleased with the results, but he was far from done. 

Seungcheol moved his mouth away from your clit to catch his breath, only to latch his lips back to your clit, making you whine in pleasure and pain. Seungcheol wrapped his lips around your clit while his tongue traced and circled the swollen nub. Seungcheol wrapped both his arms around your waist and held you down. 

Seungcheol moved his mouth to your pussy, shoved his tongue inside you while his fingers found your clit and started rubbing. Your grip on his hair got tighter, and he groaned at the sensation. Seungcheol’s groans vibrated against your cunt, and you held his hair for some semblance as you fell apart on his tongue. 

When he had finally cleaned you up with his tongue, you were shivering and on the precipice of another orgasm. You whimpered, trying to move away from his mouth, you were incredibly sensitive, but Seungcheol wanted to keep going. He wanted you to have a night you’d never forget, so he did and lapped up your release. 

“So sweet,” Seungcheol praised as he sat back and admired your pulsating pussy, wet, sticky, and all for him. 

“Cheol,” you moaned out. 

“Yes, kitten?” 

“Fuck me, please,” you begged, to make him smile as he adjusted your position so you were on your hands and knees. 

Seungcheol held your hips and slowly pushed himself inside you, and you felt a slight burn at the stretch. It had been so long for you since you had sex, and he was big and thick. 

Once Seungcheol realised how you weren’t hissing in pain anymore, and instead, you were moaning and muttering about how good he felt, Seungcheol started to move. He knew he wouldn’t last, not with you clenching around him so tightly. However, Seungcheol thrust into you, his movements hard and deep, eliciting whimpers and moans from you with each movement of his hips. 

Seungcheol needed to cum, but not before you, as he set off a steady pace as he fucked you and slowly reached his fingers down to your clit and rubbed at it furiously; the room was filled with your screams and his guttural moans. 

“Fuck, baby, I’m going to cum if you keep squeezing me like that,” Seungcheol groaned, gently biting your ear lobe at the same time. 

“Inside, me, please, cum inside me,” you begged as he fucked. 

 “Fuck fuck”, he groaned; a few thrusts later, he suddenly stilled and pulled out of and flipped you over so that you were laying on your back, and Seungcheol took a deep breath as he grabbed your legs and wrapped them around his waist. 

Seungcheol’s hard cock rested against your aching cunt; simply seeing his length made you delirious. His length was perfect, it could go deep inside you, and the thickness made you feel as good as when he fucked you. Seungcheol made you so full you had never felt, and you were sure he had ruined you for other men. 

You bucked your hips against him, rubbing your wet folds against his cock, and he hissed at that. Seungcheol pushed himself into you, and you moaned at the stretch. Seungcheol’s hands moved to unwrap your legs, moving them to position them around his neck. 

The new position allowed him to go deeper, and he pushed deep into your cunt, and he thrust his pace was perfect. Slow enough to make you feel every inch of his cock, and fast enough to make you moan. 

“Baby”, you whimpered. 

“Yes?” 

“I want to ride you,” you choked out, and Seungcheol had to take a deep breath not to cum right then and there.

You whimpered as he pulled out and adjusted his position so he could lay on the bed and adjusted your position so Seungcheol could lay under you. He felt so good inside you. You lifted your legs and started moving your hips, riding him. You felt his grip tighten on your thighs as he helped you ride him. 

“Fuck,” you cursed as you slowly sank onto his length. 

You wanted to see Seungcheol fall apart underneath you, you trailed your hands to his fingers, and your nails grazed his nipples, making him buck into you. You moaned as his hips pushed his cock deeper inside you. You kept riding him until you felt him still and released inside you. You moaned, feeling his warmth fill up your cunt.

“Fuck,” you gasped as he pushed two fingers into you. Seungcheol stood up slightly as he shoved his middle and ring finger into your cunt and hooked them there.

“Scream for me,” Seungcheol said as he vigorously pumped his fingers in and out of your cunt. He used his other hand to press down your pubic bone, holding you still as you thrashed about.

“Do you hear how wet you are?” Seungcheol asked as he kept fingering you. You whimpered in response, fisting the bed sheets between your hands and screaming as you came hard.

“Fuck. I can’t,” you choked out when you noticed he hadn’t stopped his movements.

 “Yes, you can. I know you can,” Seungcheol encouraged as he repeated his actions, making you squirt all over his hands.

You whimpered in his grip, pushing his forearm, and Seungcheol smiled as he pulled his fingers out of you.

“Fuck,” you breathed out. 

“Good?” Seungcheol asked. 

“Mhm, very,” you mumbled into his chest, making him smile. 

“Noo!” You whined when you felt him move, and Seungcheol swore his heart melted at that moment. 

“I need to clean you up,” Seungcheol said. 

“No, stay,” you whined making him laugh. 

“Please?” You asked and Seungcheol didn’t have the heart to deny you. 

“Fine, but not in this bed, it’s a little wet,” Seungcheol teased making you bury your head into his chest more. 

“Just hold onto me, and I’ll move you,” Seungcheol said as he carried you off the bed and into your bedroom, where he laid you down onto the bed, and used it as and excuse to quickly slip away and bring back a wet towel and gently clean you up. 

“Come here,” you whined holding your hands out for him. 

“Adorable,” Seungcheol cooed as he climbed into the bed, holding you in his arms as you both fell asleep. 

The following morning you woke up with a dull ache between your thighs, and an empty bed. Before you could worry, you spotted a note on the bed. 

I’m outside, waiting for room service, I thought we could do with breakfast, also I took a shower and left a towel out for you too. 

-xx Cheol. 

You smiled as you read the note, and took his suggestion, and hopped, well hobbled into the shower. 

You saw Seungcheol sitting on the couch and staring out the window when you entered the living room, you felt more awake after your shower. 

“Morning,” you greeted as you sat down next to him, and Seungcheol immediately turned around to face you, leaning forward to place a kiss on your lips. 

“Morning,” he mumbled against your lips.

“How are you?” Seungcheol asked. 

“Sore.” 

“I would apologise, but I don’t think you mind, do you?” Seungcheol teased. 

“Cheol!” 

“Okay, but as a dutiful boyfriend, I’ll make it up to you!” Seungcheol declared. 

You didn’t mind Seungcheol being your boyfriend, hell, you loved the idea, but it surprised you, and you were about to respond but a knock on the door stopped you. 

It was room service and for a few minutes you couldn’t say much. 

Once the servers left the room and Seungcheol ws setting up the plates you decided to speak. 

“Cheol. I like kitten.”

“Hm?” 

“I feel like as my boyfriend you should know what I like,” you said making him grin. 

“I like kitten, darling and sometimes baby,” you added. 

“What else do you like?” Seungcheol asked. 

“You.” 

“Oh? What a coincidence because I also like you.” 

#seventeen #seungcheol #scoups #svthub.collab #seventeen smut #svthub #kvanity #thekpopuniverse #seventeen fanfic #seventeen angst

[cheriladycl01]

Better than me - Charles Leclerc x Reader P5

Plot: You are a rookie in your first f1 season, adding to the ever-growing amount of Brits performing in the grid.

Credit to countingstars-17 for the GIF

You were nervous for the race today, you wanted to hold P5 from qualifying however you had many more experienced drivers behind you.

The line up was:

P1: Lewis Hamilton - Mercedes

P2: Charles Leclerc - Ferrari

P3: Alexander Albon - Audi

P4: Max Verstappen - Red Bull

P5: Y/N Y/L/N - Audi

P6: Lando Norris - Mclaren

P7: Lance Stroll - Aston Martin

P8: Oscar Piastri - Mclaren

P9: Logan Sargeant - Williams

P10: Zhou Guanyu - Williams

P11: Yuki Tsunoda - AlphaTauri

P12: Pierre Gasly - Alpine

P13: Daniel Ricciardo - AlphaTauri

P14: George Russell - Mercedes

P15: Liam Lawson - Alpine

P16: Valtteri Bottas - Haas

P17: Sergio Perez - Red Bull

P18: Kevin Magnussen - Haas

P19: Fernando Alonso - Aston Martin

P20: Carlos Sainz - Ferrari

So not only would you be attempting to overtake 3 time world champion Max Verstappen. But also your own teammate in P3, the Current World Champion from 2025 in P2 and a 8 time world Champ in P1 having his last win in 2024. Whilst defending from Lando Norris who was next to you on the grid lineup and then Lance and Oscar who were behind both of you.

It would be a hard race, but you were always willing to push yourself and the car to the max.

You stood by your car, headphones in and up to the max bopping your head so you couldn't hear any other the other noises that were going on right now. Dua Lipa was playing and you were chewing at one of your nails.

A tap of your shoulder wakes you up from your musical trance, you take one air-pod out, the song pausing.

"Race time, in the car" your manager directs you making you nod. You jump into the car over the halo, sliding down into the low seat. Your handed your helmet and balaclava which you put on making sure to tuck away your loose fly away pieces of hair so they are out if your face for the race.

After you are ready, they hand you the wheel which you push in and make sure your radio is getting back to the garage okay.

Your in your position on the track, your hands on the wheel as the fourth light comes on, and your put lightly resting on the pedals ready to launch the car into a start the minute those lights went out.

Max had an awful start, meaning you slipped around on his inside, leaving him behind you to defend Norris who had a good start as well.

The rest of the race went well however, you ended behind Lando and finished P6, Alex had moved too P2 so your team did amazing for a double points finish with a P2 podium finish.

You really couldn't wait for the day that it was you and Alex up there together and you just hoped he would stick around for a few more seasons as your team-mate.

You watched on as Lewis, Alex and Charles took their podium. They sprayed the champagne while you and Lily hugged and cheered Alex on. As a joke you'd placed your Audi cap on Lily, and SkySports had of course captured the adorable moment between you guys saying how you and Lily had one of the best friendships in the paddock between a driver and a wag.

As you were wondering around the paddock, greeting fans and taking pictures you spot Charles who you hadn't had a chance to congratulate on his win today.

"Charlie!" you exclaim running over to the tousled haired male.

"Y/N!" he smiles, stepping away from the person he was talking too.

"Well done on your win today! Ferrari have an incredible car this year!" you compliment, some mechanics whistling to you as they pass in appreciation making you giggle.

"Well, its not just the car now is it ma cherie" he jokes jabbing his elbow at you.

"No of course the almighty Leclerc who drove today was the reason" you nod in agreement with sarcastic undertones that has him gasping in mock horror a hand rosining up to his chest dramatically.

"How dare you!" he exclaims.

"Are you mocking my driving?" he laughs again as you remained quiet.

"No, definitely not. You were incredible today. Really, i hope to be able to share a podium with you some day" you smiled at him, and a huge grin comes onto his face as well.

"Well, you never know what might happen in Suzuka" he grins rubbing up and down your arms before pulling you into a tight hug.

"I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come with me for dinner tonight. I've never been here and don't want to leave it down Silvia to find me and Carlos a place to eat!" he asks and your eyes travel from your shoes on the floor up to meet his eyes in shock.

"I mean, I've never been here either so I don't know how much better I'd be than Silvia" you joke, you didn't realize it now but this was actually Charles trying to ask you out on a date. Not only were you an amazing driver, but you'd seen and helped him in such a vulnerable moment and hadn't said anything bad about it, he liked you more than he would care to admit.

"Okay so its set then? Me you Carlos, Becca, Lily and Alex will all go for food. Oooo we should probably invite Lando and Oscar as well, god knows they'll end up in a McDonalds against the orders from Kim and Jon" you sigh shaking your head.

"Oh yeah, with Carlos and the others yeah sure. Erm can i trust you to find a place?" he asks and you nodded, your PR manager came over a hand on your shoulder explaining you were needed for media duties.

You were walked off to go interview individually with SkySports where Jenson, Natalie and Nico were all waiting for you.

"Ahhh my favorite driver has arrived" Nat says pulling you into a hug that you return and kiss her cheek before taking the mic from her hand that she extended out to you before shaking hands with Jenson and Nico.

You knew Natalie better, Jenson and Nico as Ex-Drivers intimidated you as they were drivers that you looked up too when you were a little kid.

"So, your pretty consistent with P6 so far. First two races of the season in Bahrain and here in South Korea! How are you feeling?" Nico asks and you smile shyly.

"Yeah, i guess everyone says consistency is key. Obviously having now 36 points between myself and Alex is amazing for the team and yeah I cant wait for Japan. I'm feeling confident with the car, my team have done an amazing job with the car and I'm excited to see what we can bring to the tables in the years to come" you answer.

"Yeah I agree with Nico completely, its been incredible for you and hopefully a podium in sight soon?" Jenson teases making you laugh a little attempting to stifle the sound.

"I'd like to think that. However there are so many great and amazing drivers out there on the grid right now who deserve the wins in comparison to me" you smile nodding.

"And what's it like to have Alex as a team-mate" Natalie asks.

"Alex is the best, and I'm not sure i could have had a better person as my team mate in my rookie season"

After a few more questions about the car and your driving smile, you are thanked and told goodbye. Alex finds you, confirming that he and Lily were excited about dinner. Which sent you into a small panic, and he could tell by the look on your face.

Lily and Alex helped you research Yeongam and the surrounding areas, you found a golf course that you Lily, Alex, Carlos and Lando would all visit tomorrow.

"Hmmm how about here? I cant say the name though" Alex says looking at the restaurant he just found. You take the name punching it into google.

"Nope, definitely not" you say sighing befroe going back to looking at the map.

"What, i thought this was a good one, you judged that so quick!" Alex frowns trying too see what you'd seen that was so bad.

"It's literally a fish bar Alex, poor Lando wont eat there!" you say knowing the boys immense hate for fish.

"Okay here we go this is perfect for everyone, its an Italian/Korean restaurant. Everyone will be happy here, me you and Lily can try some new foods while the princesses have their safety foods" you grin showing them the picture of the warm and glowy restaurant on the screen.

"Yeah that seems good!" Lily smiles, checking it out on her own phone. Okay, now let me go find Lia and see if she'll book us a table. I don't think my Korean will translate too amazing over the phone.

Booking the table with Lia was easy enough when they found out that it was a group of F1 drivers looking for a table, they got you into a nice private room according to Lia. You'd sent out texts to everyone who was coming making sure they'd be ready to leave at 6.

Y/N: Got a place for food tonight, don't worry I saved you from Alex's choice of a fish bar! Be ready at the lobby for 6 :)

Lando: Have i ever told you I love you and you are my bestest friend?

Y/N: You have now!

Y/N: Hey! Make sure you and Becca are down in the lobby by 6pm for dinner, found a nice place and have a table.

Chilli: Thank you for booking it, glad I don't have Silvia Trivagoing where Charles and I would have eaten!

Y/N: Most welcome!

Y/N: Yo be there or be square for dinner @ six! Lobby stat.

KoalaB: Where is there?

Y/N: Oscar, READ! THE LOBBY DUH!

Lord Perc: Did you find somewhere for dinner?

Lord Perc: If not the hotel food was alright, I just thought it would be nice to get out

Y/N: DW dinner sorted, just meet us in the lobby at 6 :)

Lord Perc: of course <3

Dinner flew by, between the waiter playing with you guys and doing bottle tricks for the table when Soju was ordered, or Lando choking on an olive, or water spilling onto Charles lap making it looked like he wet himself and you attempting to dry it without thinking where you were rubbing the napkin and looking up seeing a bright red faced Charles.

You couldn't help but think how embarrassed he must have been, so you patted his red cheek explaining it was an accident and actually your fault for him spilling it. He sat there quiet and looking down for the next few minutes while you all waited for the mains to be served.

You were staying in Korea until Wednesday, you had massive plans for the rest of the week. You were to play gold tomorrow with Lando, Carlos, Lily and Alex. Then on Tuesday you'd get the train to Seoul and were sight seeing with Charles who you asked to come with you as Alex and Lily were leaving for Japan early and Carlos and Lando had plans already. Wednesday you'd fly straight to Japan ready for the media duties on Thursday.

Life on the road as an f1 driver was stacked but the memories you were making here with you friends severely made up for the exhaustion you felt until the gaps in between races came about.

Golfing with everyone was fun, you sucked and Lily tried to help you as much as possible. You'd think as a professional f1 driver you'd be a natural athlete and be able to pick up other sports relatively easily. But lets just say that you would be pretty jobless without Formula One.

After a long day, you checked out of the hotel in Yeongam and met Charles, you guys had an eventful evening where you got lost in the train station in the middle of South Korea. You attempted with your small knowledge of the language to communicate that you were lost.

Now at this point, your probably thinking, omg so silly just use google translate but you really really didn't want to look like one of those pretentious tourists who shove phone's in locals faces without even attempting a lick of their language.

Luckily your Korean was enough to get the man to understand you were lost and looking for the train to Seoul. He was kind enough to take you and Charles all the way to Seoul with him. He turned out to be a mechanic for the Kia racing team. You explained that Charles and you were racing drivers and he nodded before laughing explaining he knew who you were.

You and Charles felt so bad, that you ended up offering a drink to this man which turned into him showing you all his favorite drinking spots in Seoul and introducing you to people he worked with.

You both went to the new hotel rather drunk on a bus.

"Charlie" you complied as you flopped onto one of the beds in the room, the one you just had claimed.

"Yes" he asks looking through his suitcase that management kindly had transported earlier over in the day for him.

"I'm hungry and you know what I've always wanted to do" you ask looking over him.

"What?" he asks, trying to make himself less spacey and more focused on you.

"I want to go to one of those convenience stores that sell those cups of ice and then the really cool drinks and then they have all the really cool premade food and the noodles and I wanna go can we go before i go to my room" you beg kneeling on the bed and placing you hands together.

"It's like 2am, Y/N they wont be open. Let's call it a night and we'll go tomorrow" he smiles patting your shoulder.

"No no, its Korea bro, they are like 24 hours. It'll be open i swear" you say making a cross over you heart. That doesn't seem to fill him with confidence so you move to the puppy dog eyes which he cant seem to say no too.

"Fine, but if your wrong and you've dragged me out for no reasons, I'll make you DNF this weekend" he hiccups pointing an accusing finger at you.

"Hahahaha I told you!" you say seeing the brightly light shop.

"Fine you were right" he says holding the door open for you, you walk in first greeting the teenager behind the till with a small hello in Korean.

He gasps in shock before running up to you both with a paper and pen and pointing at his phone. You ask if he's like a picture and he nods enthusiastically thanking you furiously as you take the phone. You all basically have a mini photoshoot in the store before he helps you make the food, saying he didn't want you to burn you hands on the hot water tap which you thought was extremely kind.

You and Charles eat, before tipping the young man and leaving the store where you both go to your joint hotel rooms passing out with the door connecting the rooms unlocked and open.

TAGLIST:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #charles leclerc #charles lecrelc x reader #charles lechair #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fic

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Make Me Feel Alive Episode 1

Gilbert von Obsidian's Birthday Story

This is simply a fan translation and is not intended as a replacement for the game. Expect grammatical errors.

As Christmas and the end of the year drew near, the chilly season brought a sense of excitement to everyone's hearts.

In the Obsidian Castle, a scene that unfolded regularly once a month continued to take place right before my eyes.

Gilbert: "Hey, Walter. Can't you stop using Emma so casually?"

Gilbert: "She threatened me with a 'no touching' order if I didn't come to the infirmary, you know?"

Gilbert, sitting on the bed and buttoning his shirt, turned his red eyes toward me, clearly sulking.

Gilbert: "I'll kill anyone who gets close to Emma."

Walter: "It's just a matter of you going for regular check-ups willingly."

Walter: "Relying on Roderich every single time to keep you in check also has its limits."

Gilbert: "Your check-ups are too frequent and troublesome."

Walter: "Your body needs a little more caution. You had a high fever just the other day."

Gilbert: "Even normal, healthy people get a fever sometimes."

Walter: "How many times do I have to tell you that you are prone to serious illnesses? And do you want to make your fiancée cry again?"

Gilbert: "Yeah, I want to make her cry. I want to make her cry a lot."

Emma: "Prince Gilbert."

The other day, when Gilbert seemed off, I touched his skin and felt a warmth that was completely opposite to his usual coldness. His breathing seemed abnormal, so I hurriedly went to call Walter.

(I was really worried, but he doesn't seem to care at all.)

Gilbert: "You're also exaggerating."

Emma: "I’m really worried about you."

Gilbert: "Poor thing."

(No use. He's clearly enjoying himself.)

Walter: "Roderich, your master is too evil."

Roderich: "Doctor, he is also your master."

Walter: "Damn it."

Gilbert: "Hm? What's that? You want a salary cut?"

Walter: "It's an honor to serve such a wonderful master like you!"

Gilbert: "Fufu, is that so?"

(I've been getting used to this atmosphere.)

Gilbert generally avoided unnecessary interactions with people.

However, he seemed to trust Roderich and Walter to some extent, and they often had lively and dangerous conversations like this.

(Right! Since Gilbert's associates are all here and his regular checkup is over, I think now is just the right time.)

Emma: "By the way, it's almost your birthday."

Emma: "How do you usually celebrate it?"

Walter & Roderich: "........."

Emma: "Um..."

(Huh? What's with this atmosphere?)

As soon as the topic of "birthday" was brought up, Walter, who was usually talkative, and Roderich, who silently watched the situation from the sidelines, both shut their mouths.

Their expressions held a tension that you couldn't just dismiss easily.

(Did I say something wrong?)

Emma: "Could it be that birthdays are not celebrated at Obsidian?"

Gilbert: "No, regular households do celebrate properly. Birthdays are special no matter which country you're in."

Emma: "Then, what's with this atmosphere?"

Emma: "You mentioned the other day that it was almost your birthday."

Gilbert: "Yeah, because I thought you'd be particular about such things."

(So it's not exactly taboo.)

Walter and Roderich both lowered their heads.

Only Gilbert continued to smile.

Gilbert: "My birthday is something celebrated by those who want to die."

Episode 1 ╎ Episode 2 ╎ Episode 3

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri gilbert #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri jp #ikepri translations #cybird

[pursuitseternal]

Hi first of all, I wanted to tell you how much I love your fanfictions I'm always happy to see something new (ascended astarion and astarion spawn stories are my favourites but the others are captivating too). I was wondering if you could write a story where the original Tav dies and is reborn a few hundred years later and Astarion finds her again. Maybe in a more modern setting where the prudery thing isn't quite so… strong

I apologise for my bad English it's not my native language I hope you can understand it anyway

“Mistrial:” a Modern Faerûn AU

Astarion x Tav |E| 2.5K modern au

Ao3 link

Summary: Hundreds of years without her, Astarion still sits on the bench, Justice Ancunìn hear case after case. Until one day, that young prosecutor gets under his skin, until she confronts him after their trial, until ancient memories stir and things awaken.

A/N: Thank you to @myfavouritelunatic and @brabblesblog for their enabling and encouragement.

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“Justice Ancunìn, I have to object,” the little firecracker of a prosecutor ground her high heel into the tile of the courtroom.

Astarion shook his head, tired of her tone already on day one. “You don’t have to, counselor,” he rubbed two fingers against his silver-haired temple, “but given that this is already your twenty-second one today, I can’t say I’m surprised.” She looked at him with sharp eyes and folded arms. The little shit. He did not care for her already.

If this had been in the good old days when Faerûn was at its prime and most debauched, he could have her flogged for her tone and sent to cool in the stocks. And that would have been before he had been turned into vampiric spawn, before he had become hero of Baldur’s Gate with the love of his life at his side. Helping him learn how to hide his immortality and vampirism from the public, learning how to still serve as Magistrate despite his… condition.

That was until time moved on, and his immortality won over the lingering bonds of love. He missed Tav, her brilliance and ferocity, her pointed ears and sweet blood, her passion in life and in the bed.

Like the blink of an eye, he moved on. City to city, career to career as hundreds of years continued their slow grind of time. Until now, now, he stared down from his bench in BGC, new finagled magic in this modern age like cars and electricity and internet. But law was law, and a judge was a judge

It was as if he never left, aside from the new spitfire attorney, just arrived from New Waterdeep, with a ferocity he would have once admired.

He just now found it tiresome. Irritating. He realized after a moment, she had the decency to wait on his final word on her request for objection. He shifted in his seat, narrowing his eyes at her. “Overruled, Counselor Ylfe.” He banged his gavel twice. “In fact, court adjourned until tomorrow,” he stood grumbling to himself. “At least I’ll be spared a twenty-third objection in so many hours…”

His pointed ears picked up on a high pitched scoff. “We shall see,” that lawyer snipped to herself. But that tone, that defiance and jabbing quality… something piqued his interest.

Stirred his ancient memory.

He finally groaned as he rested in his chambers, only moments after shutting the doors and sliding off those scratchy robes. Gods, he missed silks and wigs and velvets. Not this cheap crap everyone wore. He went to his cabinet, taking out a discrete green bottle and pouring himself a mug of its swirling ruby contents. He popped it in his microwave, one improvement on the campfire he would not begrudge using.

Not when it made his stash of blood warm for once.

But even as it hummed, his mind kept rolling over his day. Especially that stubborn, annoying, irritating prosecutor with her defiant eyes and jutting out chin and crossed arms and swaying, perfect hips, and……

“Justice Ancunìn, I figured you would finally have a moment for us to address how to best proceed civilly in your own chambers,” his head shot up, his gaze narrowed as he watched her stride on into his offices.

Her.

“What in the hells are you thinking, Counselor Ylfe?” he spat, fighting hard from baring his fangs at her. A habit eroded from nearly a millennia of practice almost overturned just at the sight of her. “You know any discourse outside of the courtroom can result in a mistrial?”

“This isn’t about the trial, this is about your abject disdain for me, personally, it would seem.” She did it again, crossing her arms and swaying her hips in that tight little black pantsuit of her hers.

Astarion let his eye wander. There was something about her… not many females cut so fine a figure in trousers, or slacks or whatever the fuck they were now.

Not since… her. The other her in his life. His true love. That was the last time he even gave a woman a second glance.

Her hair hung over her shoulder, but now, up close, he could see two pointed ears peeking through her crown of long and flowing hair. Elf. High elf.

He locked eyes with her, that piercing shade… his mind raced and wandered… flying through ancient history for some, the warmest of memories for him. Emerald Grove, Shadow Cursed Lands, the real Baldur’s Gate…

“Didn’t you hear me, Your Honor?” she snapped at him.

Astarion shook his mess of silver locks, smiling in a way that no longer hid his fangs. “I’m afraid I was… lost in the sea of my long and winding memories… darling….”

That made her freeze solid. Her smooth face drew into an inscrutable expression, her cherry red lips parted… “What did you call me…?”

Only then did he realize the slip of his own tongue, how that pet name he vowed never to use flowed right off of it. “D-darling.” He repeated, as shocked as she was at the impropriety. “I’m sorry, Ms. Ylfe.”

“Don’t be,” she instantly replied with a shake of her head. Then she smiled, even as her brows furrowed. She looked at him, at his pale face and silver hair and… dark brown eyes…. “Have you always worn contacts, Mr. Ancunìn?”

“How…” but before he could interrogate that true suspicion, his microwave dinged.

“You better get your drink, Your Honor…” That lilt in her voice was new, he noted.

“I’ll wait,” he shrugged. “I can always reheat it later. First I’ll have to apologize for my… behavior today.”

“I should hope so,” she grinned, walking around and sitting on the edge of his desk. “Treating a lady with such disdain… only to about face and call her darling the next moment… seems something only a true, black-hearted rogue would do…”

“What?” he went rigid. Bending forward, that old instinct to fight or fly racing through his nerves after centuries.

“I’ve never been a fan of contacts,” she smiled so easily as she leaned back against the top of his desk, fingers splayed on his files and papers. “Better if you just showed the world your natural eyes, Mr. Ancunìn….”

His nostrils flared, his breath racing and head swimming. But this time there was no fucking tadpole, he knew that.

“What’s your name…” he hissed, narrowed eyes leveling at her.

“I can tell you, unless you’re bent on letting your stash of blood from getting cold…. Astarion.”

His hand flew to her neck, bringing her up into his face, fangs bared, hackles raised, every long suppressed vampiric sense firing on all cylinders now as he smelled her. “Name,” he commanded.

“Taveria Ylfe,” she swallowed under his hold. “But those close to me have always called me Tav….”

“Tav,” her name was a gasp in his throat.

“And I know you,” she said, breathy and quick. “I didn’t know how… but there was something about you that made me… unsettled.”

“Twenty-two objections later and you call yourself… unsettled?” he smirked, lightening his hold, but stroking his fingers on her skin.

Her skin.

“Well, darling,” she purred, "lifetimes of perfect memory for our kind, and I should have recognized my lover with the crimson eyes and pointed fangs.”

Astarion shook his head, swallowing the rising ball of emotion that caught in his throat. “I’d cry, but it’ll make my contacts hurt,” he gave a wet laugh. His thumb traced on the side of her neck, two circle marks in her flesh, like moles or scars…

“You found them, the brands I’ve have on my flesh ever since you, Astarion,” she added, eyes batting shut under his touch. “I’ve looked for you in every lifetime, my true love with roguish swagger, red eyes, pointed fangs, and massive…”

She paused, pursing her lips.

“Ego?” he offered as an answer, but she shook her head.

“Cock,” she grinned as she bit her lip.

“I was hoping you’d say that… darling…” He hissed as her hand grasped at the gusset between his legs. “Looking for your evidence?” he growled, a roll of his hips into the pressure of her touch. So ancient and familiar. “You’ll get it, darling, if you want it…”

“I do, Astarion,” she sighed, fingers stroking back and forth on the cotton of his pants, feeling that rising erection instantly straining back.

A monsterous growl in his throat, a burning hunger in his belly, he grasped at the back of her neck, pulling her against his lips.

The age-old dance, the same taste. Closing his eyes, his body transported a millennia ago… as if he could smell blood and woodsmoke and magic in the air mixed with her scent. Had he suppressed so much of his senses he couldn’t recognize her scent? Had he ignored the same beat of her heart in her chest, same musical rush of blood in her veins?

He shook his head to let all that go, realizing her hands already tore through her own blazer and button down, clothing now cast to the floor. Already, she had shimmied off the desk, pressing harder into his kiss. He waited for no further invitation, hands instantly sliding her slacks from her perfect curves, his own clothing suddenly feeling too tight and too abrasive.

Astarion only wanted her skin on him now. After so long. He couldn’t move fast enough, his reflexes had dulled from neglect, his dexterity a fraction of what it once was with her. But it, too, slowly crept back, his hands making quick work of his own clothes.

Suddenly, those fingers remembered the smoothness of her skin, rekindled their dexterity. His hand clawed into her hair, the other stroked down her belly, backing her perfect body to perch on the edge of his desk. The gasp he drew from her lips as he sank two fingers into her folds woke something feral in him, something ancient. Vampiric.

“Tav,” he hissed, nuzzing against the music of her artery, rubbing along the stream of her blood in her neck. “May I, please…”

“Mmm, I want to see your real eyes before you take anything of mine, Astarion,” she purred, arching against him. One hand splayed on the desk behind her, she smirked and watched. Never had anyone removed contacts so quickly, so dexterously.

As he blinked, her heart poured open. That scarlet glare, that tilted head, those mussy silver curls. “I can’t believe it’s you…” she sighed.

His eyes went wide, shining in his unshed tears and well of emotion. “I’m so tired of words, Tav,” he replied, voice cracking with that exhaustion and unbridled desire now. “Just give me all of you, to lose myself in, to lose these long and draining years in, years without you.”

Not another word as said, nothing but the groans of their joining once more, the shudder of their bodies as they fucked, the creaking of the wood beneath her as he slammed his hips against it. Cock buried deep in her cunt, fangs digging into her neck.

Both parts of her were hot and leaking. Blood spilled from his mouth once more—warm and fresh and sweetened with her taste. Arousal leaked into the wood beneath them, her musk and sweat the only perfume he longed to smell.

He swirled his tongue over his bite marks, fresh bleeding wounds that swallowed those scars she was born with. A lasting brand on her skin as she had forever been on his heart, his soul.

He couldn’t bring her close enough to him, fingers clawed into her ass to keep her from sliding away with his frantic thrusts. And she had already wrapped herself around his waist, already scratched up the places of his back that weren’t riddled with scars still. Clutching him tightly to never lose him again.

Their lips were sealed together, locked as they sucked and moved and danced in their ancient kiss, the taste of her blood sending them both reeling into oblivion. She keened as her walls spasmed around his cock, that familiar ripple and beat of her climax pressing against his every wild and erratic thrust.

His forehead resting against her shoulder, the scent of her blood there was the last little push he needed, losing himself in the trembling warmth and comfort and pull of her body. His cock pulsed hard inside her, thrumming against her muscles as he came harder than anything for a thousand years. Forcing his head back up, he locked eyes with her, face twisting and arms shaking as he came. Lips pulled back to show those glistening and reddened fangs.

Her hand braced hard at the back of his neck, keeping her with him as his hips thrust, slowing as he emptied into her. At last he stilled, a foolish, young smile on his gaping lips, lips he licked clean.

He would tell her sometime, how she had made his undead heart remember how to beat and love again twice now. How she brought him back to life over and over again. But with that haze in her eyes, the way she clenched still around his cock, he knew this wouldn’t be the end of their reunion.

Thank the gods.

Lips curling as she met her mouth in a kiss, she drew him in again for more. “I have a hotel…” she whispered.

“And I have a penthouse, darling,” came his instant reply between her ravenous caresses.

“Hmm,” she laughed deep in her throat, their kiss still working slowly, unable to break apart once more. “As long as you keep it cleaner than your tent once was, I accept. Someplace for us until the morning when we return to court…”

His fingers, coated in the scent of her arousal, stayed her mouth. “Tch, surely even a young thing like you knows this will end in mistrial now,” he smirked. “Not even I can think of a clause that allows for lost soul mates to continue in court after such…” he glanced at the mess between their legs, “…debauchery.”

“Oh well,” she feigned disappointment, sliding off to retrieve her clothes. “Worth it…”

Suddenly his arms gripped her, pulling her by the swell of her ass, flush against his naked body one more time. “It’ll be days before either of us must return to court… long, exhausting, pleasure-filled days, darling.”

Tav dove up for his kiss, standing in her tiptoes to meet that smirk that haunted her for centuries. “You better hurry me away to your place, Astarion, or someone will find us here making up for lost time.”

Reluctantly and with a deafening sigh, he relented, busying himself to dress again.

“Oh,” she commented, that taunting tone in her voice, “and don’t think I missed how you never answered it your place was still a mess of chaos again.”

He turned, shaking his head as he refastened his belt. “Well, even if you are disappointed in that regard, I can assure you…” he gave her that look, those half-lidded eyes, that sharpened fanged smirk, “you won’t be left wanting in other regards.”

#astarion x tav #modern au #astarion modern au #judge astarion #lawyer Tav #astarion fic #astarion fanfic #astarion smut #vampire spawn #astarion spawn #spawn astarion #bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3

[heartfullofleeches]

i just thought of the most weirdest yan ever.

A goldfish yan

A yan that is literally so aloof, dumb, quiet, wide eyed and says 'huh?' a lot

They still love reader a lot of course theyre just seeing shapes ans colors behind their eyelids for the first time

"Why won't this fish do anything?"

Big crowd today. Noisy - too. They don't like it. Too many flashing lights, and people trying to force food in their mouth when they aren't hungry at all. They don't like it - not at all, but they can't go home. Too big to fit in their old bowl, or even pass the front door. They miss home.

"Ripley!"

A loud voice parts the crowd as a figure pushes through; light returning to the goldfish's dull eyes as the human marches up to their tank and hooks their arms around their scaly neck. In the past their human could pick them up with one arm. Now, they struggling just to get their arms over their broad shoulders. Ripley rests their chin atop your head as one of their webbed hands reaches around you.

"I warned them not to wake you up until I got here. You gonna be a good guppy for me like always?"

The goldfish blinks. "Kay."

Who would've thought that little fish you took in all those years ago would grow up to become three times your size. All the love you gave, and every treats you snuck them likely played a role in their growth. Unable to house them, you made a deal with a local aquarium that would be able to provide them with everything they needed. It tore you both up inside to part, but with your new job you could see them whenever you pleased. It was the only way to get them to eat, or do much of anything besides blankly staring at visitors.

A hand grips your shoulder; brass rings cutting into your skin through your shirt. You wince from the weight behind it as your spun on your heels to face a red-faced visitor. Ripley's attention shifts to them. Their head cocks awkwardly to one side.

"Huh?"

"Finally. I've been waiting all morning for this thing to do something and all its done is stare at me. I'm on a time sensitive schedule here.

You force a smile and their hand from your shoulder. "I'm sorry - Riptide is just a little shy when I'm not around. If you, all of you, can give us about a half hour - I'm sure they'll be ready."

Majority of the crowd disburses at your ask. You look back at Ripley. "I'm going to go get your ball, and change into my wetsuit - then we can play, okay?"

The goldfish blinks again, lips posed in a small smile. "Kay!"

You walk off, leaving the disgruntled guest behind. They stand alone in front of Ripley's unlocked tank.

"Mean to Y/n....."

They look up at the large fish. "Oh, you can talk now?"

"Mean to Y/n...." The fish repeats. "I'll show you a fun trick. Here."

-

As you walk out of the staff lounge, a visitor comes up and taps you on your unbruised shoulder. You turn to face them. "Hello, how can I help you today?"

"I was just wondering. I've seen a few sources online referring to that goldfish you call Ripley as Ripper. May I ask why that is?"

"oh....well, Ripley doesn't take too kindly to people that pick on me. They got that nickname after they nearly drowned another guest because they threw a glass bottle at me, but due to them starting it - it mostly went under the radar. If you'll excuse me, I need to get back over to them."

Walking back to their tank, Ripley swims circles around the perimeter as you climb up and jump in. They let go of whatever was in their hands to scoop you up in both arms - a single brass ring floating to the bottom of the tank.

They knock their large head against yours. "Good guppy... Me."

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere oc #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere x darling #yandere teratophilia #yandere mermaid

[pocketramblr]

AU where Hisashi calls Izuku regularly while he works overseas and one day Hisashi tells Izuku about his new boyfriend who is very sweet to him and unfortunately got into a bad accident many years ago that left him disabled so Hisashi helps care for him.Izuku later finds out this boyfriend is AFO.

why would you leave inko for afo. 'hold on yeah i think i'll leave this priceless bahia emerald and skip town and then i found a broken piece of chalk instead.' my guy. you deserve all might stealing your son.

1- ok so. Hisashi is an accountant who moves to new york to make more money. He and inko officially divorce, which means Izuku takes the Midoriya name and Inko has sole custody, but while Hisashi does not have to pay child support or alimony, he does opt to send them some support and tries to stay in contact because i guess his taste in men was so bad that he and inko just work better as friends. good for them ig.

2- actually Hisashi is just straight up color-blind: he can't see any red flags. Its not just his personal tastes. this man has worked for four separate blatant money laundering schemes since he went abroad. he has no clue. this is how he ends up coming into contact with AfO, but AfO's job offering is too indirect and vague, and Hisashi is like 'are you... flirting with me?' instead, but AfO can work with that. And while Hisashi certainly isn't a genius with people or warning signs, i will give him (and inko) this: he's a great lay.

3- He's also a very caring boyfriend, which was part of the problem with inko, they ended up really inciting each other's anxieties, but AfO likes being pampered so he decides to keep Hisashi around even if he isn't a employee. even better really, that he doesn't have to pay, bribe, quirkify, dequirkify, or threaten him. Hisashi, as a bit of a doting boyfriend, also has a lot to say about the man to others, so Izuku ends up hearing a lot of gushing over the phone as he's training with weights and is a bit too out of breath to change the topic. plus, he doesn't want to bring up going to UA until its a sure thing, his dad will definitely freak out about it not being safe. finally he tells his dad he got in, and hisashi is like 'oh yeah, cuz they changed the rules, which track?' and izuku goes 'oh uh hero track and alsoihaveaquirknowitscalledsuperpower oh look at that moms calling me for dinner sorry bye.'

4. Dazed, Hisashi gushes about his son to his boyfriend later, dropping that izuku's going to become a hero at ua, what a surprise- but, well, he supposes his son has always loved to watch heroes...

AfO is like 'hm. being a hero isn't very safe...' ('i know...') 'why don't you try to push him to visit you? keep him safe. maybe in a safe. don't you just wanna keep a hold of him?' ("i do, but that'll only drive him away. he's growing up... besides, if i was busy only keeping watch over him, who'd take care of you?") 'mm, good point. keep prioritizing me, i will neither put a hit on the kid as competition nor do anything to keep him safer.'

5. Reveal... uh yeah so Hisashi does mention to Izuku when his boyfriend goes missing, sometimes he gets called to work suddenly but he's never been gone this long, he's worried, is he restocking his meds, where is he? oh yeah, he vanished around Kamino. unfortunate, but not incriminating on its own. What IS incriminating is rewound!AfO, looking at Izuku with a tilted head. "I can see bits of Hisashi in you, hm. Just the worst bits, luckily." Izuku starts realizing what this means. Bakugo distracts him and blasts him to the Shigaraki fight, because he also started to realize what it meant and simply did not want to deal with hearing anymore of that. Over at the ShigarAfO fight, AfO tries to keep throwing Izuku (and tomura) off their game by wondering if Hisashi will find this new, younger body nice as well- probably, its not like the man had the highest standards. Izuku and Tomura are united in such abosolute done-ness with AfO that he's immediately snuffed out of Tomura's head and nothing remains behind. Tomura is like 'uh, do you want a day's break and then a rematch because i need to bleach my brain' but izuku is like 'oh no i need to punch someone through a mountain rn, lets keep going while i reform you with the power of friendship and incredible violence.' (By unspoken agreement, neither Izuku, Bakugo, or Tomura ever breathe a word about it to anyone, much less to Hisashi.)

#anon #pocket talks to people #ask game

[madnessr]

Reunited Chapter 1

Summary: 300 years had passed since 1725, where three vampires had lost the only thing that mattered to them. Now in the year 2025, they are reunited with the one person they cannot lose again.

A poly Lestat, Louis, and Armand x Reader relationship

Warnings: Slight gore, cursing, mild angst

Word Count: 5k

Here it is guys! The first chapter to this series. Please let me know what you think, your comments make my day!

Masterlist

The Queen Mary, a ship built alongside the RMS Queen Elizabeth, was constructed to express service between Southampton, Cherbourg, and New York. The intention was to provide competition to super-liners built by European companies in the late 1920s. However, by 1965 the Queen Mary was no longer profitable and soon retired in 1967, retiring in December on the shores of Long Beach, California. 

All of this happened 31 years before you were even born, the notorious ship now growing roots against the harbor, nourishing a reputation for being hunted and cursed. Attracting self-proclaimed ghost hunters and other psychics to try and connect to the ship's past. 

But winds were changing, and in early January of 2023, the descents of Cunard White Star, the original owner of the Queen Mary, announced a revival. A luxurious experience reliving the thrills of the 1920s, promising to carry the Queen Marry across the oceans once more for a final and elegant vacation for anyone who wanted to set sail on history, departing from California and arriving in Italy. 

Social media and dedicated Queen Mary fans went wild over this news, claiming this could be the next generation of the Titanic, while paranormal enthusiasts couldn't wait to explore the ship for longer than just a night. However, you, along with many others, saw the announcement for what it actually was, a job opportunity. 

Inflation being at an all-time high since the 1980s, you, along with 63 percent of Americans who are also living paycheck to paycheck, could use the extra cash, a place to stay was a given, no matter how small the staff rooms would be on the ship, you wouldn't complain. Having nothing to lose, you handed in your resume along with hundreds of others. You felt confident in your chances of being accepted, making a note to highlight your previous career in the American Symphony Orchestra as a cello, and when worst came to shove, you also were a waitress at one point. 

The Queen Mary was not set to sail until 2025, leaving the hiring staff an entire two years to sort and select applications. Leaving you and many others in a state of radio silence. So, you promptly forgot about it. Moving on with your day-to-day life, you continued working ungodly hours, living off unfair wages, and living one day at a time. Until you had the wonderful delight of experiencing your boss, someone you furthermore supported through extra shifts and on days off, made a choice to fire you. 

Or, as she said, "Needing to let go of such a valuable employee due to the current economy." A load of bullshit if she asked you, but she didn't, and with your belongings sitting in the classic cardboard box, you made your way back to your apartment. 

Unlocking your door, letting your feet kick the old wood on its rested hinges closed behind you. You dropped the box carelessly, letting yourself sit on your second-hand couch with your head in your hands. 

You had faced many challenges since moving to America, leaving your family in Austria to make it big in the symphony orchestra only to be eventually let go by an abusive boss. Leaving you as a waitress at Denny's for the past two years. Of course, your family didn't know; how could they? 

You had left them. Had promised and gloated about your upcoming success just to end up in a shabby apartment in a dangerous area and now unemployed too. You were tired and have been for the past two years, but today was your breaking point. Like a cold shower, realization gradually washed over you, forming a heavy puddle in the pit of your stomach. You had failed. 

You wouldn't return as the prodigy you had hoped to be; you wouldn't return wealthier than when you left. Damn it, you couldn't even sustain yourself anymore; the only way you'd be returning is with a walk of shame. How were you supposed to look them in the eyes again? People who unconditionally believed in you, people you made promises to like prayers. 

You were ready to finally give up, throw the white towel, raise your flag, and surrender. You could already hear your grandmother, rotted in old sexist views, present you as an example to your younger siblings. You could practically hear her nasally voice, "Women have no place pretending to be anything they aren't." She always said that; it was almost her slogan. Whenever you had a new idea, when you aspired to be in all kinds of careers, from pilot to singer, she denied every single one. She wanted you to be a wife; nothing more or less was suitable. 

The dawning realization hit you that not only did you fail, but you proved her right too. Your young siblings looked up to you and watched you prove her wrong as you lied to them. Yet, you still pretended to be successful, that you were a part of symphonies, and that employers were constantly looking to recruit you. So not only would you return as a failure, but a liar too.

In your well-deserved moment of self-wallowing, you heard the rusty sound of your mail slit open, watching a letter fall to the floor. You stared at it, silently praying that this wasn't the icing on the cake, and your landlord decided to hand out eviction notices. Then, slowly pushing your lethargic body onto its feet, you hobbled over and picked up the letter. 

Ripping the envelope open carelessly, your eyes scanned the paper. You had been hired as part of the staff regarding the Queen Marys voyage, glancing at your calendar briefly, nearly two years after fucking applying. Due to a staffing issue provided by a system failure, you were hired as part of the waiting staff and, on occasional afternoons, a part of the on-sight orchestra. 

A dry laugh escaped you, flipping off the air as you grinned tiredly. "Not yet, grandma, not fucking yet.." 

The sound of seagulls singing, the smell of seaweed, drying kelp rotting on the shore, and the salty mist of ocean air surrounded you as you passed the crowd. It was boarding day, and you and the rest of the staff members were instructed to board early. But how was that even possible when you had to survive a sea of people instead of boarding a ship. Kids running around, clerly excited, young adults in their groups babbling about the cruise, while you and another worker, Ella, stuck out like a sore thumb in your 1920s-style work uniform. Considering that was when the ship was built and set out to sail, the owner of the Queen Mary only deemed it fitting that the boat preserved its history. 

Along with all the "excuse me's" and "pardon me's," your eyes caught on to a peculiar pair of men. Both sporting shoulder-long locks, one a cheerful blonde and the other a content-looking brunette. Their odd fashion was comparable to yours if they wore formal uniforms. But the clothes looked so ideally suited to their bodies, not an inch of fabric out of place. You just assumed they were history enthusiasts and wanted to match older decades. You caught the gaze of the blonde man, whose laughter and smile stilled as he watched you. A chill traveled down your spine as the eye contact was far too intense for your liking. Ella grabbed your arm carefully, guiding you through the crowd so you two would stay aware of the situation. Finally, you managed to get to the elevator, showing your employee passes before being able to board. 

You glanced out through the glass elevator walls, once again catching sight of the two men from earlier. Yet this time, six pairs of eyes stared at you; a look of shock and utter disbelief fell across their features. There was this incredibly odd, almost indescribable feeling of deja vu washing over you like those handsome faces were familiar. Finally being out of the rush of guests, you had a moment to stare. A man with black hair joined them, his strands of dark locks reaching further down than the others. He looked stoic, calm even, but his gaze connected with yours when you looked at him. He smiled, a gentle soft one that you barely even noticed. But it made you feel something—content. Like the man rarely ever smiled but had done so for you. Before you could fall further into your ridiculous daydreams. You looked away, feeling creeped out as the doors opened, letting you walk up the ramp and board the ship. 

The ship's interior was a work of art all on its own. The lobby, displaying a decorative wall resembling a fountain behind the reception desk, stretched from one corner to another. Several seats and booths were set up to serve as the reception worker's primary domain. Being guided through the halls, past the main entrance seating area. You passed a golden elevator; there was something old-time about it, displaying a large panel to indicate which floor it was on at the top. A large, almost clock-like arrow guided its passage. 

The staff was then split up and shown to their rooms. The halls had a fancy, royally red carpet as the floor. Beautiful golden embroidery gives it a more meaningful design as you pass the countless rooms. Having been given time to settle yourself, you glanced at your room. It looked similar to a standard, single-bed hotel room. A door leads to a closet on your right, being reflected by a body mirror parallel to it. There was a sliding door made of glass on your left, leading to a simple bathroom. A regular-sized bed and a simple bedside table on either side are in the middle of the room. You had put your suitcase against the chairs, flopping onto your bed for a moment to breathe. 

A sharp, almost tapping or knocking sound was heard from your window. Making you snap your head up; nothing should be able to hit your window, considering you were on a ship, high above the waves. Standing up, you glanced outside, watching the night nearly overshadow all the waiting guests if it weren't for the street lamps and store lights. Shrugging, you turned around once more and were later ushered to the restaurant you would serve at with Ella. But, again, given the summary of what was expected of you, you wouldn't be a waitress tonight. 

The restaurant was built to look fancy. Circular tables have neatly, if not ironed tablecloths draped over them. Two plates, four pieces of cutlery, wine glasses, and a white cloth napkin folded in a triangle on each plate. Pointing to the grand chandelier in the room's center, casting the room in a delicate orange glow. Along one side of the restaurant stood a small stage, a few instruments being displayed along with a cello. 

Tonight, you would be entertaining the dining patrons from 6:00 pm till 7:00 pm as the ship's doors finally opened to the public. So, you took your place on stage, skillfully preparing yourself for your session. 

The ship boarded similarly to airplanes, where more exclusive—or affluent passengers got to board first, following up with different groups sectioned by letters. Eventually, the calming silence in the ship slowly became something more welcoming. A soft, joyful buzz of people waiting for their upcoming vacation, or rather journey with bated breaths. 

You, on the other hand, couldn't care less. You were getting good money and had yet to decide if you were even returning to the ship to sail back to America. So instead, you might just stay in Italy for a few weeks. 

There was something so comforting in the idea of just doing as you pleased. No one to find you, just wandering down a road and seeing where it would take you. You were a day-to-day kind of person, and you saw nothing wrong with that. But recently, your days have grown to become boring. 

So, as you heard the loud roar of the ship's horn. You smiled to yourself. You had officially set sail to hopefully new and more exciting adventures. 

Gradually, guests began to appear in the restaurant. So, you started playing a casual, soft jazzy tune. Chatter filled the room, almost like a chorus as you played. You found yourself enjoying the atmosphere; everyone in this room came here for one thing: enjoyment. 

For your scheduled hour, you did nothing but play and enjoy. Playing Tchaikovsky's The Nutcracker, Waltz of The Flowers; to Saint-Saëns The Carnival of The Animals. You played it all, a gentle smile tugging at your lips whenever a note hit so beautifully. Sending shivers down your arms and goosebumps, you never failed to get when music was played. 

You hadn't changed one bit. 

Perhaps you would've grown shy while performing if you knew, but this moment had no significant meaning to you. You're just doing your job, simple as that. But what meant so little to you made dead hearts begin to leap again. What it meant for them to see you again, thriving, living, and mortal. Three-hundred unforgiving and torturous years did they spend without you. They spent years getting over your death, and while getting over you wasn't ever accomplished, continuing to survive was. Although blood lacked its taste, the night air its crispness, and music its charm. You stood there on a small stage. Single-handedly providing their miserable lives with color again. With meaning. Although they had long forgotten what it meant to be, or instead feel human again, this was the closest they'll ever get to being so vulnerable. 

Lestat, although having been the most stubborn about accepting your death, was now struggling the most to understand that you were, in fact, alive. Right in front of him, so reachable, so obtainable. But he didn't dare move, frozen in his chair as he watched you. He had dreamed of you every cursed second you were apart, and some part of him didn't want to accept this as reality. Countless nights did he awake in his coffin, arms that had been around you in his dreams now empty. He never minded how cold his skin felt, but nothing was more challenging than the loneliness you left behind. His grief denied him this moment, compared to Louis, who felt nothing but joy; he just couldn't, unlike Armand, who shared the same happiness and disbelief as Louis. 

He was certain you weren't really there. 

To wake up alone after this moment once more, after something that felt so real. So Lestat stayed where he was, silently grieving the only sun in his life that didn't hurt, and enjoyed the sight of you in front of him, alive once more. 

But before you knew it, and any of them wanted to accept, your time was up, and a young pianist came to take your place. You bowed, unaware of the three men who had watched your entire performance with bated breaths. 

As you left the scene. One thing was understood between the three of them; the world wasn't the same without you. They had been given one thing they never had themselves, a second chance. One thing was for sure, they won't lose you again.  

Now that it was seven pm, you were finally able to properly explore the renovated ship. Heading out onto the deck, the breeze gently ruffled your hair. A familiar coldness from the night air hugging you close, enveloping your entire being. You leaned over the railing, tall, half-drunk champagne glass in your hand as you chatted and joked with your newly acquired friend, Ella. A little younger than you, she was a college student who had dropped out of her recent major and decided to take a year off. To find what she really wanted to do. 

You couldn't really judge her for it; teens were forced to make such detrimental decisions way too early, in your opinion. But there was more to life than grades and results. 

A soft clearing of the throat could be heard behind you two. Turning around, you still saw one of the gentlemen from earlier. The one with shoulder-length brown hair tied neatly into a low ponytail and old-fashioned attire. You could tell that he tried looking more modern, but the way his dress shirt and waistcoat snatched his waist so beautifully, you refused to believe the man would ever wear modern-day, baggy clothes and sweatpants.

"Pardon my intrusion, ladies; I just wanted to compliment the wonderful cellist this evening." He mused, a crooked smile framing his face. Ella glanced at you, a playful, bowing smirk tugging at her lips before she nodded. "How wonderful; I'll leave you two be then. My break is over now anyways." She mused, quickly slipping away as you stood there. 

Turning your full attention to the stranger, you smiled welcomingly. This was your favorite thing about traveling. The number of strangers you meant along the way, the people, the stories, the lessons. People never seemed to become boring to you; there always seemed to be something there that always kept you intrigued. 

But something about this stranger didn't feel comparable to all those previous experiences. This man seemed to feel so familiar. "Thank you." You mused you weren't shy by all means, but this man and his companion gave you the oddest of feelings. 

"Excuse me," you began. Then, fully capturing his attention with your words, "But have we met before?" The moment the question escaped your lips an expression painted his face you couldn't quite decipher. 

"Mind if I join you?" He asked, keeping a distance before you nodded. Inviting him to stand beside you, leaning against the railing and staring out at the dark sea. The lights from the ship give the only indication of the waves beneath you, the light softly reflecting against the surface. 

"I don't think we have." The man finally responded to your previous question, his eyes watching the light reflection paint the waves beautifully. "I wouldn't have forgotten someone like you." He hummed with a playful glint as he turned to you and smiled, his forearms resting against the railing. 

"Someone like me?" You asked, chuckling at how broad that phrase was. But, of course, that could mean anything, good or bad. 

"It's a wonderful evening." The brunette mused, occasionally glancing at you as you continued sipping champagne. You awaited his reply to your question but gradually accepted that he would leave your curiosity hanging. "It really is. Have you sailed before?" You asked, attempting a light conversation. The man couldn't help but chuckle as if your question had been silly. Now getting your attention, you stared at him, eyes requesting an explanation for his outbursts. 

As if sensing your confusion, he turned around. His elbows rested against the railing along with his back. "Yes, I have, many times, actually." You nodded, "To where?" But, you added, all kinds of travel interested you, so this wasn't strictly special. 

"You'd be surprised where you can go just by ship." But, although you nodded, traveling by ship was rare besides the vacation cruise or exporting cargo. Perhaps you just didn't know better, but you didn't feel like prying or exactly learning anything at the moment either.

"You know, Mr.—"you trailed off, not knowing the man's name. He smiled at the gesture, having no problem filling in the title for you. “Louis de pointe du lac.” 

You raised your eyebrow, finding such a long name an oddity. "Well, Louis de pointe du lac–" You began again but were again cut off, "Louis. Please refer to me as Louis." 

"Well then, Louis, it was a pleasure meeting you." You mused, not noticing the minor quirk of his smile as you said his name.

"Louis!" A loud voice called in a chiding and scolding manner. The man was obviously annoyed, he was the one with blonde hair styled similarly to Louis's. However, his anger seemed to dwindle when his gaze flashed to yours. He stared for a moment, before softly bowing. You raised your hand to try and prevent the man from literally bending to you, but he simply grasped it. A touch ever so gentle as he kissed the top of your hand, cold soft lips meeting your blazing skin. “Pardon me my chérie, I’m Lestat de Lioncourt, at your service.” 

After your shock finally calmed, you couldn't help but chuckle at the theatrics of this display. Bowing sheepishly, grabbing the edges of your uniform as you did, "Hello, gentleman, I'm Y/N L/N."

The soft sound of someone clearing their throat shifted your attention again, directed at the last man with long black hair in the group. "As lovely a name as ever, I am Armand." He hummed, making you realize the soft accents they had. Louis had an American accent, Lestat carried a faint French accent, and the man who had just introduced himself as Armand sounded European. 

"How rude of us to bombard you like this chérie, care to join us for dinner? I'm afraid the night isn't getting any younger you know." Lestat mused, an eager smile stretching at his lips as he chuckled. You smiled at the offer but shook your head in refusal. "Although I'm not usually the type to deny a dinner with strangers, I'll have to pass this time. I'm too tired to provide any enjoyable company this evening." You hummed, slowly stepping away from what appeared to be a disappointed blonde. 

"Perhaps another time." You added, smiling softly as you turned to the brunette. He shook his head playfully, "Don't mind him, have a good night Y/N." You nodded, waving a little as you finally left. Entering the ship once more as you made your way to your room, letting out a small sigh. The first day of anything was constantly exhausting in your eyes, but today sure gave you hope for more eventful journeys ahead of you. 

You completed your routine rather quickly, but it was still odd to feel the occasional sway or shift of the boat. It was very subtle, but you would notice if you focused on it. Removing your uniform, you let it against one of the vacant chairs before hopping into the shower. Luckily the bathrooms were made to look more modern than the rest of the ship; you were a stickler when it came to bathrooms. Being quick to shower, you dried yourself off and put yourself in some loose clothes. You would consider yourself someone who doesn't wear specific pajamas for bed; you would wear whatever was comfortable. 

Laying down after such an eventful day was pure bliss, even though you didn't do anything that was physically exhausting. Your feet still ached from all the walking, your lower back complained from the luggage you carried, and your mental state was even more drained. If there was one thing you were ready for tonight, it was to clock out until someone would bother you again tomorrow. Turning off your night lamp, you were quick to doze off. 

Although your sleep was quick to come, it didn't stay. You sleep in two-hour increments but eventually give up after five A.M. You get dressed, not in your usual work uniform, since you would only have to check in for work late into the day. So at the moment, you were a simple guest. Stepping out of your room, you walked past the halls and suites. But you halted at the loud crash of what you could only assume was furniture tipping over. The noises erupted from the room as if a band of wild animals had been let loose. 

You should have continued walking; this was none of your business. But the thought of it being a case of domestic violence or any other situation where your interference might've helped had you backtracking. You stayed silent, letting your ears strain to make up any conversation through the door. 

"Absolutely not!" A loud yet familiar voice boomed as glass shattering followed the commotion. 

"Why the hell not?" Another voice followed; this was a heated debate between two men. "What are you waiting for, Louis?" A moment of silence, like a glass of ice-cold water, was splashed onto you. You knew these men; this must've been Louis and the other's suite. At least, that's what you assumed. 

You could hear stomping, the screeching of a chair against the wooden floor, then again silence. "Three-hundred fucking years. Three-fucking-hundred! Now you're suggesting that we let her go? Live a human life, a vulnerable, fragile, dangerous human life?" The man's voice, who you pinned as Lestats argued. But the mention of humanity, as if implying that there was something outside of that spectrum unnerved you. We're they rehearsing for some play? 

"No, that's not it, Lestat, and you know that." Louis's voice spoke calmly, but there was a clear, agitated tone. For how long have they been arguing? 

"Leaving her mortal makes her fragile, yes. But turning her could leave her hating us." The accented voice of Armand spoke, making you sincerely wonder who this 'she' was. 

"You're risking everything!" Lestat couldn't believe they had this conversation for the last hour. After your sweet self had retired for the night, there was tension between them. It wasn't until Lestat lured a slightly drunk woman into their room and decided to celebrate his lover's reappearance with a bloody gore fest. Armand had partaken, not with much interest in the human blood-bag, and Louis was his sympathetic self as he drank. It wasn't until Lestat's small comment about how cute you'd look, all bloody and desperate for blood. Fledglings were always so needy once they got a taste, and he couldn't wait to indulge you. Then, of course, there was still the probing question of who would be your sire, your maker. 

But Louis had cut him off, stating that you needed to stay human longer. To grow accustomed to them and eventually to their life. Louis understood where Lestat was coming from; perhaps he would've been more rational if he wasn't so exhausted from their argument. He sat slouched in a soft, red-cushioned chair. Rubbing his temples in an attempt to soothe his headache. He sympathized with you because he knew someone would turn you sooner rather than later. He just couldn't bear you going through the terrors he went through; he could still recall the way you had refused to turn the first time they had all met. They had foolishly allowed you to stay human for a little longer, where you had found yourself in a riot and subsequently lost your life in the raging mob. 

He would be a liar if he said he didn't want to turn you too. To have that security, they had an eternity to properly court you, but you were human. Weak and fragile, with so little time compared to them. 

Armand was the calmest in the situation. He, too, wanted nothing more than to hold you like he had always done, to share his gift with you like he had wanted to all those years ago. But you didn't want that then and didn't seem open to something so life-altering now. The risk of developing a bad relationship through actions rushed by their emotions was too risky, despite his creeping fear at the idea of you being human. If they were on a ship, there would be no civil unrest and certainly no outright threats that could actively harm you. 

His coffin has felt so empty without you; for once in his miserable immortal life did he feel at peace. All of them did, and although they all felt torn. They eventually decided to wait to develop a small relationship before changing you. 

You still stood outside, shaking your head at what you had heard. Utter nonsense, complete nonsensical sentences. Finally, you walked off, unaware that your footsteps had been heard. And three protective vampires were not too keen on the idea of someone knowing about them, about you. 

#interview with the vampire #iwtv #the vampire chronicles #tvc #lestat de lioncourt #the vampire lestat #louis de pointe du lac #the vampire armand #armand de romanus #armand iwtv #lestat iwtv #louis iwtv #lestat x reader #louis x reader #armand x reader #lestat 1994 #lestat #prince lestat #vampire lestat #tom cruise lestat de lioncourt #tom cruise character #interview with the vampire fic

[harasharaved]

Jason Todd Fics - September 2023

Fics I recommend with a focus on or POV of Jason Todd. Masterpost can be found here.

Key: Has a ship or romantic plot, unfinished, multi-chapter, one-shot

NOTE: some of these do require an AO3 Account to read.

Whisper Closely in My Ear by Kangarou

The words went in one ear, rattled around like bees, before ramming out the other. The doctor was sitting painfully close, only two feet away. The tone of voice implied he was talking louder, not quite a yell but something nearly there; it sounded like a whisper to Jason. So quiet, with every third word unintelligible, except for that first phrase: "Mr Wayne, I'm afraid you're profoundly deaf." --- Jason is profoundly deaf. He learns to cope with it.

An AU in which Jason is deaf. This is one of my favorite Jason fics. I often find myself coming back to it. Its a great character study, introspective and has that delicious kind of hurt you just want to sit with for a while, with a helping dollop of comfort.

Children Will Listen by Parker Avenue

Jason Todd is good at extortion. He's what the adults call a snoop - nobody paid attention to the little kid with the big ears. Without even realizing, adults would hand him the keys to getting what he needed. Jason knew how to collect information, because adults found information valuable. And it was. It was free, easy to get, and easy to carry, so long as he kept his head clear and his facts straight. Jason had information Batman could use. He knew it. He had thought it over all day, sitting on that moldy couch, eating stale saltines. Batman would definitely be interested in the information Jason had. Batman had become scary again, like the old stories Jason used to hear the goons in the area tell. Breaking bones, just barely keeping people alive. Batman didn’t kill, no, but sometimes? Sometimes living was worse, maybe. Jason stayed crouched behind that dumpster, silent, because he simply couldn’t decide if Batman was far gone enough to make a kid wish he was dead. (Jason Todd knows how to get what he wants, and Batman tries to lure him to safety.)

Okay I will admit, my biggest weakness is fics about street kid Jason. Slow adoption got me good. Anyways, this one isn't finished but I love the way the pacing takes its time. Co-parents Bruce and Selina is never a con either!

Stargazer by LemonadeGarden

Jason Todd is seriously injured during patrol one night, and is forced to stay at the manor to recuperate until his injuries are healed. To pass the time, he makes a list of things he never got to do before he died. Except there's one small problem: most of them involve Bruce, and Jason doesn't really think Bruce cares all that much about him anymore. This is a story about how wrong he is, but I made it sad anyway.

I'm sure everyone and their mother has rec'd this fic, but I'm doing it anyways because I love it deeply. If you haven't read it, this is your sign!

Glow in the Dark Stars by essspressso (stylesmakethefight)

“I’m being serious, asshat,” Jason hisses, swatting his hands away from his face. “You have to tell me what year it is.” Nightwing crosses his arms a little petulantly. “It’s 2017. Happy?” Jason freezes, breath catching in his throat. 2017. Five years ago. He was…he was fifteen. “Shit,” he murmurs. He’s going to eviscerate Tim. Or: Red Hood Jason and 15-year-old Jason swap timelines, landing one week before 15-year-old Jason is supposed to die.

Time travel trope + Jason Todd's tragic ass life = amazing fics. Feelings, prepare to be felt! LOTS of Angst. You might even shed a tear. Wonderful fic!

Too Much Fucking Salt by Pez_The_Platypus

A rural housewife instinctively understood the law of quantity into quality. Add a pinch of salt to a soup and it tasted better; add one pinch too many and you ruined the batch. Jason had been in limbo for a year and a half, trusting things would get better even though everything just seemed to be getting worse. It was something small that set him off, but really, it was an accumulation of a lot of things that led to this. He was going to kill the Joker.

A one shot, but a LONG one. This one is very sad, heavy, and bittersweet. Its not Bruce or Dick "bashing", it provides a pretty well rounded and human description of them, which is to say they are not angels. Still, if you love pondering the tragedy of Jason Todd and themes of coping with trauma and the inherent grating sensation of trying to heal, this is a great fic for you.

YOU MUST KNOW LIFE TO KNOW DECAY by orpheusaki

Bruce starts, eyes glaring down at the city and unwilling to look anywhere else, especially in Jason's direction, "You always… hated the rain." Jason's breath gets caught in his throat. (For as long as Jason can remember, it's always been raining.)

Jason angst and character study rooted in comic-accuracy. Great short read!

This Kind of Weather by r_astra

Jason’s at school when his mom dies, and that’s the only reason any of it happens. If he’d been home, if he’d been with her, he would’ve been in the wind before anyone else even knew. Even if they looked, no one ever would’ve found him. He’d have taken to the sewers if that’s what it took, man-eating crocodile guy and all.

Yes, another Jason Todd adoption fic, one in which he does not steal the tires. I have a type and I'm limiting myself to only 2 of the many I love. This one does not have much of a focus at all on the Bat-side of things, just a story of Jason finding a home, much older than in the comics.

A Straight Blade by Sparkypants

"What happened to your face?" Bruce asks, reaching his hand for Jason's jaw. "You're bleeding." Jason bristles, cheeks turning pink. "I cut myself shaving." He says, and wipes at the cut with the cuff of his hoody. Damian makes a clicking noise with his tongue, "I'm amazed you haven't taken your own head off." He snarks. Jason shoves his chair away from the table, temper flaring. "Well it's not like anyone ever taught me, is it." He hisses. He's five years late, but Bruce finally teaches Jason how to shave.

Quick one-shot with feelings. Great little read I often find myself revisiting.

Growing Like a Breeze by WhaleofaTime

April 27th isn't anyone's favorite date, but it's somehow worse than usual today when Bruce gets his car stolen. It's nice of Red Hood to come to his rescue. Nicer even that Jason keeps him company afterwards.

One of those fics that explains everything about why Jason and Bruce's dynamic and relationship is so magnetic to read about. They both suck at feelings and yet make me feel SO MUCH.

#Jason Todd #DC #batfam #dc comics #fic recs #I have a lot more but i think this is enough for one post #Sarah's Bullshit #this is way more fun than all the work I'm meant to be doing right now. #please enjoy! tell me if theres one you really like bc i am always down to yell about fics!

[ltghosty]

If only you would have trusted me (Simon "Ghost" Riley ﾒ Female "Cobra" Sergeant)

A/N: MW 3 broke me, don't talk to me

Summary: Makarov blackmailed you into joining his army and Task Force 141 thinks you betrayed them without hesitation. Once Ghost and Soap find Milena and you, Ghost finally confronts you about letting him down.

Warnings: curse, angst, guilt, fight, betrayal,

Wordcount: 4.7k

”I thought I was someone whom you could trust because you can be sure as hell that I still trust you with my life. Whether you like it or not."

You knew this moment was coming once Laswell had let you know that Makarov escaped the gulag and was on the move.

You didn’t want it to happen but your job wasn’t famous for making guarantees. Especially with crazy terrorists who wouldn’t stop until the world fell to its knees in front of them.

And Makarov was just like that.

Ruthless, smart, cruel and unpredictable.

While running from location to location, you started to feel getting lost. There were too many dead ends while Makarov was playing with Task Force 141 as he’d wished.

Ghost noticed how much you’d changed since Makarov broke out and wasted no time in getting his hands dirty.

You’d heard stories of him before Price and Soap managed to capture him once 4 years ago which ended in agony and cost a lot of innocent lives. You’d dealt with all kinds of criminals who wanted to build their throne out of corpses but Makarov was by far the worst and most dangerous one.

 With each mission you’d went to with the others, the less your voice could be heard. You were silent and kept checking every corner while wondering how could you finally make a step forward.

There were times when you were seated with Ghost and his favorite sniper to watch the others’ back, and while laying on the ground for hours, the lieutenant tried to get you to talk but you weren’t too bulged.

You hadn’t noticed because you were too focused on your task but Ghost always kept an eye on you when you were in his sight. He’d seen this kind of dedication before, so he understood where your change of heart had come from but he didn’t want you to completely forget who you truly were before.

He’d hated to admit but he would have done anything to bring you back to the surface. It’s been too long since he had heard your laugh or seen your beautiful smile. Hell, he even started to miss those moments when you’d happily join Soap and push his buttons while making fun of Brits.

Ghost couldn’t stand your silence, he liked listening to your voice even while you were only making small chats with him through the coms.

What Ghost had never expected – or anyone else for that matter – was you suddenly disappearing without a word and hearing from a source that you’ve been seen on Makarov’s side.

At first, he was confused and kept denying it but when Price told him that it wasn’t some sort of plan for you to get involved with the Russians, Ghost felt like someone punched him in the chest.

You’d left willingly without a word, and the next thing he knew, you were working under the hands of the enemy.

He was overwhelmed with your betrayal, he was sad, furious, and desperate to find an explanation for your treachery.

What Ghost and the others didn’t know was that Makarov had his eye on you since he escaped from the gulag. Firmly, because you knew Milena from before, and she knew that you were an unstoppable sergeant.

Makarov wanted to break Task Force 141 from the inside before he would grab a gun to put a bullet into everyone’s head, so he ordered his men to do their research on you.

It didn’t take them too long to find your family, even though you tried your best over the years to make it seem like you didn’t have them. You’d never once talked to anyone about your sister and mother who always waited for you to go home, who were always worried about you whenever you departed and had been gone for months while fighting terrorists.

For the first time in your life you didn’t know what to do, you wanted to tell Price and the others that Makarov had captured your family and gave you no choice but the Russian’s intentions were crystal clear. If you’d told anyone about this, he’d kill your family and would blame it all on Task Force 141.

You even thought about telling Ghost that Makarov had found you and backed you in the corner but you knew if the lieutenant would have found out about any of this, he’d never let you go.

Ever since you joined Makarov, the guilt has been eating you from inside, especially whenever your friends’ name was thrown around as Makarov was planning his next move.

Makarov has been calling you ’Rynda’ ever since you gave yourself up to him which you absolutely despised. Since you were his only living connection to Task Force 141, he’d given you the task of always letting him know what the special forces’s next move might be.

”Like the bell ringing when danger is around the corner,” Makarov had said back then with a wicked smile on his lips. ”I don’t want you to disappoint me, Rynda.”

”I won’t.”

Your words might have caused satisfaction in the man but your tongue was burning with the forced promise you’d had to make to him. Your skin was crawling each time he touched you and his voice crept through your ears like venom.

You hated being Milena’s present. Makarov didn’t want any women on the battlefield but he admired your strength and skills, so he ordered you to always stick to Milena and watch her back. Without his financial support, he would have had some problems getting into this whole capture-or-kill scenario.

Milena always made a sound of her whines about how she hated that you were practically babysitting her. Don’t worry, I hate it too, you’d thought.

Whenever you were alone you missed the guys, missed Price being a father figure to you, missed Gaz making fun of your looks after a horribly executed plan, missed Soap teaching you Scottish, and missed Ghost for… for being himself and keeping you under his wing.

”I admire your dedication, really,” Milena called from the other side of the room.

”Do you?”

Milena glanced up from her papers and searched your face.

”Yes, I’m surprised you betrayed your people right away and did everything Vladimir ordered you to.”

”He didn’t give me much of a choice, did he?” you asked and crossed your arms. You hated that she was able to think that you betrayed your second family easily while in reality, it was wearing you down in every way possible.

You were sure you’d never be able to look into their eyes if you saw them again.

”He knows how to win people over.”

You cleared your throat and narrowed your eyes.

”Or to force them to do something that would benefit him.”

Milena was one delusional woman, you were sure of that. You hated how spineless she was and how easily she could get under your skin within seconds.

If Makarov wasn’t so intimidating then you would have already punched her whenever she said a bad word to you. You would have enjoyed it for sure.

Gunshots and shouting emerged from the other side of the building which made you tense right away.

”What the hell?” Milena asked as she stood up and walked to the wall where the security cameras were shown.

You took a few steps, examining the figures that appeared, and felt the color drain from your face.

You wished you would have mistook them for someone else but after serving with them for years, there was no way you wouldn’t recognize them.

It was Soap and Ghost.

Your heart was hammering in your chest, and your stomach turned when you saw Soap getting closer and closer to the door that stood behind you.

With trembling hands, you grabbed your gun and spun on your heel just when the Scots opened the door.

”Special forces, show your hands!”

Raising your guns at the same time, you faced your best friend whose eyes softened the second they found you.

”Cobra…”

It’s been so long since anyone called you that, you almost dropped your gun.

Then you forced yourself to remember your family whose life was on you and how you act now, so you tightened your grip on the cold metal.

”I’d advise you to turn around and leave, Soap.”

Soap lowered his gun while his face dropped in sadness. Your voice was cold and distant, something you’d never used toward him before. You’d only given this treatment to your enemies.

”That’s not going to happen, you know it.”

”I’ll shoot you,” you said, trying to hide your nervousness as he kept your stare.

”You won’t.”

Gritting your teeth, you took a step forward, keeping the gun at him as Milena looked at you in fury.

”What are you waiting for? Shoot him for fuck’s sake!”

No matter how hard you tried, your finger couldn’t touch the trigger. Your heart didn’t let that happen.

Memories flooded and invaded your mind as you looked at John MacTavish who was your favorite partner in crime. Moments of him making you laugh and calming you down after losing a battle made your hands shake in defeat.

You didn’t want to do any of this but you had no choice.

When Soap realized you were not going to shoot him, he let out a small sigh, grabbed one of the chairs, and pushed it forward, his eyes finding Milena.

”Sit.”

You didn’t want to admit but you missed the way Soap could talk coldly to those who were on the other side.

”Fuck you.” Milena spat in hatred.

Soap kept his gaze and gun firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.

”Sit down, Milena.”

Milena gave you a deadly glare before dropping her hands and taking a seat. You couldn’t say a word, it seemed like your voice ceased to exist.

”Where is your boss?” Soap asked sharply.

”I don’t have a boss. No one tells me what to do.” Milena said and you almost scoffed. Only if her words were true.

Soap glared at her for a while before turning around when heavy footsteps broke the silence. You lowered your hands, sweat appearing on your skin as you noticed a familiar tall figure moving in the shadows.

Soap turned around when Ghost walked through the door with a laptop in his hand.

”She’s not talking.”

As Ghost’s familiar dark eyes met yours, he stopped walking and you felt your heart skip a beat. Just like every other time he’d looked at you, you felt exposed and small.

Ghost’s eyes never left you as you tried to catch your breath. His eyes held many emotions, such as surprise, melancholy, and distance.

You hated the way he was looking at you like you were someone else. Like you weren’t someone who was close to him like you weren’t the sergeant who was never afraid to be honest and open with him.

Before you could realize that there was nowhere to run from him, he blinked and walked over to the table.

”She’s about to,” he grunted and put the laptop down on the table, and walked to the other side of the room.

Not wanting to look into his eyes again, you focused on Soap who opened the white laptop and extended his hand to Milena who was sitting still like a rock.

”Give me your hand.”

”Why? Or else you’ll cut it off?” Milena asked.

”Your friend over there knows that it’s true when I say to you that it’s not my style,” Soap said glancing at you from the corner of his eyes. Then tilted his head in Ghost’s direction. ”He might.”

Milena seemed to lose her patience with each second that passed by.

”Why the mask?” she snapped.

You almost rolled your eyes at the question you seemed to hear a million times.

”To hide my face.” Ghost answered with cold eyes.

You were surprised he answered even though it was an obvious and useless response.

You felt Ghost’s eyes finding you again, making your skin burn as you dropped your gaze. You were intimidated by his presence and not because you were afraid of him but because you knew for sure that you hurt his feelings when you left.

You wished you weren’t here to live through this unwanted confrontation. A part of you was happy to see them but your heart was aching by the disappointed and hurtful looks you received from them.

”Cobra.” Ghost called after you as you turned your head away. His voice reached your bones immediately and you hated how much you missed your callsign falling off his lips.

”Don’t call me that,” you said dryly, turning back to him.

Ghost gave you a challenging look as he pushed himself away from the wall and closed the distance between you two. With each step he took, you felt your chest tighten with anticipation and guilt. You wanted to look somewhere else but he firmly held your gaze.

He always did and that hasn’t changed.

”How about we give these two birds a few minutes to find a way to cooperate with each other?” Ghost asked and you felt your eyes widen.

”I’m not leaving Milena.”

Ghost gave you a meaningful look and took the gun from your hand with such ease that wasn’t surprising to either of you.

”Yes, you are.”

Remembering that you weren’t supposed to leave Milena’s sight for even a second, you felt panic and annoyance wash over you.

”You can’t just order me around. Not anymore.” You said in a cold tone that made Ghost shift in his place.

Without saying a word, he grabbed your elbow and pulled you with him as he made his way to the other door that led to another empty room.

”Hey! Get your fucking hand off of me!” You shouted in frustration and tried to free yourself from his grasp but Ghost easily dragged you with him through the door and kicked it shut with his foot.

You let out a desperate groan as you grabbed his wrist, trying to pry it off of your arm which seemed tiny compared to his.

You bit into your lower lip as you tried your best to move his fingers but he wasn’t moving an inch.

”Cobra…” his voice was calmer and more thoughtful now that you were alone with him.

You didn’t look at him, only let out a defeated sigh and stopped fighting, your skin slightly aching.

”This hurts.”

Ghost glanced down at his hand still holding onto you and let go of you the second you’d admitted your physical pain. Hurting you was something he never intended to do.

Hissing, you brought your arm to your chest and touched it with your other hand, and turned away from him. You didn’t trust yourself when he was alone with you.

”What are you doing, Cobra?” Ghost asked from behind you and you closed your eyes. Hearing confusion and disappointment hiding in his voice made you feel guiltier than before.

”That’s none of your concern anymore, Ghost.” You replied still facing the wall.

Taking deep breaths you tried your best to collect your thoughts as you heard him walk closer to you, dropping your gun to the table standing next to you.

”It is.”

His voice circled around you like clouds darkening the sky before the storm.

”Why did you leave?”

You pressed your lips against each other and turned around. You got used to his menacing presence coming firstly from his height. You felt small and weak because you knew he could see right through you.

”People change, Lieutenant. You better get used to it.”

”People change that’s for sure. But don’t betray and stab others in the back just like that. A decision like this never comes from a single thought.”

You hated how much he tried to get into your mind, still trying to find answers to his questions that have probably been burning in him since the day you left.

”I refuse to believe that after everything that happened, you’d willingly just switch sides, I know you. And I know how much you despise traitors,” his eyes never left you as he was speaking.

You didn’t say a word, not when you were on the edge of breaking down.

”Talk to me, Cobra.” Ghost said, his voice quiet.

”I can’t,” you shook your head. ”Why don’t you just do your job and get out of here?”

”I’m not leaving until you say something to me.”

”There is nothing for me to say, especially to you.”

Ghost felt his chest tighten at your coldness. He would have never expected you to speak to him this way. Not after how long it took for you two to finally let your guard down around each other.

”Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

”I do, Ghost. Believe it or not, I’m not part of the special forces anymore, so either shoot me or get out of my face.”

”You really think I’d hurt you?” he asked, his voice low and sad.

”You eliminate targets and now I’m one too,” you crossed your arms, trying to look confident.

”I know why you’re pushing me,” he narrowed his eyes. ”And I know for sure that you didn’t betray us because you felt like you could. I know there is something behind all of this that you refuse to tell me.”

You didn’t answer and that was more than enough for him to confirm his theory about you.

”What happened, Cobra?”

”I left and now I’m one of Makarov’s people, that’s what happened!”

You were desperate to try to get him out of here because your heart was breaking with each word that was exchanged between you two.

”No, don’t even say that. I know who you are.”

”You don’t, Simon. Just get over it and let me go,” you snapped and his gaze dropped for a brief second. You didn’t even realize at first that you called him by his real name until you saw the change in his eyes.

It seemed like your words had made a final straw in Simon’s heart. You hated yourself for talking to him like that and you wished you could go back to them, to him, and forget about this nightmare you’d fallen into.

”I thought I was someone whom you could trust because you can be sure as hell that I still trust you with my life. Whether you like it or not."

His words made more impact on you than they should have. They meant the world to you and knowing that even after turning your back on him, he still trusted you and wanted you to go back.

”I trusted you.”

Trusted you. Past tense which didn’t go unnoticed by him.

”You didn’t if you could leave me like I was nothing to you.” Ghost confronted you with raw honesty, not even hiding the fact of how much your decision had pained him.

”It wasn’t easy,” you admitted, hugging your stomach and your eyes filling with unwanted tears. You hated if someone saw the vulnerable side of you, you hated being vulnerable but around Ghost, you knew he wouldn’t use your pain against you. Never.

Ghost stepped closer to you, making it impossible to look at anything else but him. When he heard your voice tremble and saw your eyes become glossy, he knew he meant something to you after all.

Lifting his hand, he put his index finger under your jaw and made you look at him. His eyes mirrored his emotions as he watched you slowly letting go of the invisible mask you’d hidden behind.

”You don’t need to keep anything from me, Cobra. Have I ever broken your trust and let you down?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat as a lonely tear escaped and rolled down on your hot skin.

When you slowly shook your head, he dipped his to your level.

”Then tell me. Please.”

Swallowing your doubts, you took a shaky breath, his hand still on you.

”He’ll kill me.”

”I won’t let that happen,” Ghost promised it without a second thought.

The words were on the tip of your tongue, almost jumping down. You hated to keep secrets from anyone, especially from Simon who had proven himself worthy of your trust more than once.

”Cobra, I can’t help if you don’t let me,” he continued with sad eyes and wiped your face.

It surprised you how a tall giant like him who had a name for his ruthless methods and interrogation scenes, could act so soft and careful with you.

It was hard to believe that the hand that was confronting you and wiping away your tears had killed so many people before.

With your lower lip quivering, you felt your fear taking over you, making your knees shake. Ghost watched you with worried eyes as you let out a sob you couldn’t hold back anymore and jumped into his arms, hiding your face into his neck.

As you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, you felt the heat coming off of his body, his tenseness slowly fading away once he’d realized what you were doing.

Ghost embraced your hug, his big arms wrapping around you like a shield, silently promising to keep you safe. He felt your scent filling his nose and his heart slowing down as your bodies pressed against each other’s.

”He has my family, Simon. He’ll kill them if I don’t obey his orders,” you sobbed in pure panic, your small hands holding onto him.

Ghost exhaled and tightened his grip around you, his head dropping onto yours with ease.

”Shh… I’m here,” he scooted you as you let your tears fall onto his gear.

”I couldn’t tell anyone and he made me swear to leave you or else…”

Ghost didn’t say it was okay or that it would be all right. Because he wasn’t sure if he could keep his promise if he’d told you something you wanted to hear at the moment.

So, he just kept you in his arms and rubbed your back while his heart came to peace now that he knew the real reason why you left them.

”I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”

”Hey, hey…” Ghost pulled you away slightly so that he could look into your eyes.

When you glanced up at him, his eyes didn’t make you feel anxious like a few minutes ago, they made you realize you weren’t alone and that he wasn’t blaming you for anything.

”Don’t be sorry, family comes first.” Ghost answered. ”You did what you have to, I understand.”

”But you’re also my family,” you whispered in a defeated tone and his eyes softened.

”It’s okay, Cobra. I’m not mad, I could never be mad at you,” he admitted and pulled you into his chest, his hand caressing your hair.

You sniffed and hid your face in his chest, wishing you could wake up from this nightmare.

But unfortunately, you were awake. You have been this whole time and there was no turning back from now.

”I wish you would have told me without running away,” he said quietly. ”I understand why you did it, I just wish you would have told me.”

”I wanted to,” you admitted, your voice small and vulnerable.

”Why didn’t you then?” he asked, still holding you against his chest.

You sighed and wiped your flushed face, your other hand still around his waist.

”I was afraid you wouldn’t have let me leave.”

”You’re fucking right I wouldn’t have let you do that,” he agreed immediately, causing you to giggle.

Ghost felt warmness fill his chest at your almost laugh, making it easier for him to breathe now that you were in his arms and let yourself smile.

He missed you, a lot.

”I trust you, Simon. You know, I do.”

He hummed as he let his fingertips dance on your skin a little.

”It was hard to believe otherwise when I woke up to you missing one day.”

The familiar feeling of guilt made your expression drop and your brows furrow. You really wished things would have been different.

You hated yourself for making Ghost feel like he didn’t mean anything to you. You hated yourself for making him almost lose his faith in you.

”I’d tell you that you’re coming back with us but something tells me you won’t.”

You stepped away from him, letting go of his torso with defeated eyes.

”He’ll kill them, I can’t go with you,” you said sadly. You’d never felt so lost and desperate before and Simon could see that in your eyes.

”So, what…” his voice trailed off. ”You’re just going to stay by his side and do whatever the fuck he wants you to?”

”It’s not like I want to work for him, Simon. But I have no choice.”

”We’ll figure something out,” he replied.

You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair in frustration.

”You can’t, you know it.”

Ghost shook his head. ”No, there has to be a way… We have to do something before he kills you.”

”I appreciate your concern but there’s nothing you can do for me,” you whispered in a hoarse voice.

Ghost stared at you while hundreds of thoughts had run through his mind, wondering if there was a way he could help you. Hoping he could say or do something that would make you feel better.

”I have to do something… I can’t lose you again, I won’t.”

His words made your heart almost jump out of your chest while he massaged the back of his neck. You felt physically weak at the plea of his voice while he was trying to find a solution.

But there was none.

Not when Makarov had his chains on you like on a dog.

”I’ll be fine, just go.”

Ghost looked at you with hesitation.

”I can’t, Cobra. What if I won’t see you again?”

Wiping your eyes, you took a shaky breath. Him trying to get you out of this just made the whole situation more unbearable.

”We knew what we were signing up for when we joined the special forces, Lt.”

Ghost felt his heart starting to ache in sadness as he took your defeated and exhausted sight in. You weren’t the woman who once made a race with him about getting more kills on a mission or not.

You were only a shadow of yourself and he hated to see you this way.

He would have done anything to be able to take you back with him to the base and never let you go.

It terrified him how lost he’d felt when you left the team, he could still remember how he’d stare at the ceiling of his room, wondering if he’d ever see you again.

”Don’t talk like that, Cobra.” Ghost scolded you. ”Now is not the time.”

”You know I might end up getting killed after all.”

”Don’t.” Ghost said in a stern voice, his body tensing at your words. ”Nobody is dying. Not on my watch and I’m going to keep my word.”

It made you feel better to know that Ghost didn’t hold anything against you. Your soul found peace now that he knew the why behind your decisions and betrayal. It killed you that you couldn’t go home with him and Soap.

Ghost stepped closer to you and waited for you to look into his dark eyes that led you directly to his soul.

”I’m going to get you out of this, Cobra. I promise. I’m not leaving anyone behind, especially you.”

His promise made you forget the danger that was around the corner and just for a brief second you were happy to let yourself believe what Ghost was saying.

”You better not to, lieutenant.”

Ghost huffed and touched the side of your face, his thumb softly caressing your skin. Closing your eyes, you leaned into his touch and forgot how to breathe for a moment.

Simon Riley was famous for a lot of things and keeping his promise was one of them. That was the only thing that helped you come to peace with the things you were forced to do in order to protect your family.

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