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#like come on! i spent the whole after credits like
cheriladycl01 · 3 days
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They do be comfy tho! - Lando Norris x Pregnant! Reader
Plot: You try hide your pregnancy through Lando's large array of hoodies.
Credit to 4and55 for the GIF
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You sat in the bathroom crying your eyes out. You'd been feeling sick recently and didn't think the plane journey all the way to Las Vegas would be a good idea.
So you stayed behind while Lando went racing, you were now looking at the positive test in your hand.
You knew exactly when it was, it was. It was after his first race win in Brazil... you guys weren't as careful as you should have been.
"Fuck" you cried leaning your head against the wall of the bathroom, tears streaming down your face. It wasn't that you didn't want kids, or that you didn't want them with Lando it's just that you both agreed now wasn't the best time where he was in the height of his career.
You didn't know what to do, the only person you could think to call was Oscar's girlfriend Lily who you'd become best friends with ever since you met her at her first race appearance.
You waited while the phone rung, and rung until the line opened.
"Lily?" you sob into the phone but it's silent.
"Lily please, i need you!" you cry a little more.
"Y/N?" a male voice you knew too well answered. It was Oscar.
"Oscar?" you ask.
"Yeah, it's me Lily's just in the bathroom i didn't want it to go to a missed call!" he says before you here Lily ask who it is.
"Please Oscar, just hand me over to her" you say, Oscar could tell you were crying and he wanted to know what was wrong more than anything. He handed over the phone to his girlfriend with a worried look who answers right away.
"Y/N?" she asks with concern in your voice.
"Can you be alone right now, like without Oscar?" you say with labored breaths.
"Yeah, he's just leaving to get ready for FP3, weren't you babe!" she smiles giving him a look that tells him to leave.
Oscar, stops outside the door with a small panic.
What does he tell Lando?
Does he tell Lando?
He really had no idea what to say. Did he tell Lando that his girlfriend just got a call from Lando's girlfriend and he answered and she wa sobbing.
Would this make Lando spiral and have a bad race.
"Y/N please tell me what's happened!" Lily says back in Oscar's driver room.
"I'm pregnant" you sob and Lily's eyes widen.
"Congrats?" Lily says awkwardly and you just sob harder.
"Okay okay I'm sorry! I don't know what to say. How can i help!" she asks.
"I don't know, I think i just needed to tell someone!" you sniffle.
You continue to talk to Lily until she needs to leave to go watch Oscar and you agree you should probably watch Lando.
You walk past your shared room with Lando in your Monaco flat seeing one of his hoodies laying over the chair. You grab it and pull it over.
You spend the rest of the weekends watching shitty romcom's until you get a text from Lando.
Lando: I'm coming home, now
And that sent you into a full on spiral. Did Oscar or Lily talk and tell him, was hen angry at you...
Until he got home you were a nervous wreck having a ball of anxiety in your stomach.
"Baby?" Lando calls as he goes through the front door looking around for you. You were sat on the sofa, curled up in his lavender hoodie from his Quadrant range.
He walks in seeing you sat there, tears in your eyes as your trying not to look at him.
"Baby, look at me tell me why Oscar told me you called Lily in floods of tears... what's happened!" he asks, kneeling down in front of you trying to catch your gaze but you refused to look.
"Baby come on" he sighs. You take his hand, before standing up and walking him to the bathroom and showing him the test.
"Is this what I think it is?" he asks looking between the stick and you. You just nod, no words coming to your mouth.
"Baby, this is amazing! I know timing isn't great but i'll be here for you and them! I promise!" he says pulling you into a tight hug. He spent the whole evening talking to you about everything.
"You aren't leaving me?" you asked with a small sniffle.
"Baby, of course not... is that why you called Lily crying?" he asks with a frown and you nod.
"I was just worried, I know Mclaren have a really good car this year and that you and Oscar are a good team and we are still really young!" you admit and he nods.
"We are, but it's not anything we can't handle together..." he says pulling you in for a kiss, holding your hips before they snake up your body to get to the back of your neck.
"I love you so so much" he sighs leaning his forehead against yours, his eyes open watching you eyes.
"I love you too!" you sigh, all that built up anxiety just leaving and releasing from you.
"I don't think we should tell anyone but family" you say looking down and he frowns, not sure what you mean.
"Your going to stop coming to my races?" he asked, obviously he knew towards the end of your pregnancy you wouldn't be able to do the flight but right now you'd be safe and healthy to fly.
"No of course not! As long as we are on a jet I should be fine, why wouldn't eye?" you ask tilting your head in confusion.
"Well, baby ..." he gulps and you nearly start to laugh wondering where he's going with this.
"In a pregnancy you are growing a whole other human inside of you, so you'll ... you know get bigger?" he says as if its more of a question to you than anything.
"Yes, I'll have a bump" you giggle, placing his hand on your currently flat stomach.
"But you don't want to tell anyone? People will start to find out when they see it honey!" he laughs, rubbing your hips and stomach.
“I’ll just cover up with your hoodies” you say showing Jake how you look now.
“Mmmm my hoodies can only go so far” he laughs.
And that was the truth, you struggled in the heat in the hotter countries and ended up getting too big for even Lando’s hoodies.
Someone on twitter had got a picture of you, at an angle where Landos hand gripping your made the loose hoodie grab around your growing stomach and people started to go wild.
So you guys went to Instagram of course.
landonorris
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landonorris: Yes Y/N is pregnant! We are both very happy and she’s currently 7 months along and we are expecting in July and cannot wait to meet our little girl!
Tagged 1 Person
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y/user: I love you so much. I wouldn’t want to experience this journey with anyone else! 🧡🫶🏼
mclaren: Papaya Baby incoming 🧡🦁 Congrats Lando!
oscarpiastri: congrats man!
lilyzniemer: she’s such a pretty mumma
-> y/user: stop it!!!! 🫶🏼🧡
Taglist:
@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul l @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v
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Made a traditional portrait of Kamala Khan, Ms. Marvel from The Marvels using Colored Pencils in the span of 46hrs! By me, TheFlamingRedWolfArts :)
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After 3 weeks of work, I present to you, my first ever FULLY colored traditional artwork!!!
Yep, it's taking me way too long to complete an artwork LOL but I am trying to get faster!
I'm so in love with this!! I didn't expect to be able to color this well considering I'm learning & getting used to drawing with colored pencils & I'm so blown away by the result! The lighting in this was the hardest part, it was a huge pain drawing all these color transitions with the colored lights that are illuminating Kamala but it was very satisfying seeing it all come together, seeing all those "random" colors that I put down, start to make sense! Really happy with how the face has turned out, I love the depth that I've been able to capture & the amount of likeness too!!! Now, my fav part of this whole artwork... Kamala's outfit and her wrist: The outfit was a pleasure to draw, everything about it was fun to draw, from the dupatta/scarf to her symbol, I had the time of my life drawing the symbol, it was just so so fun! The wrist was a difficult & torturing but a great & helpful experience, it taught me how my art supplies reacted to each other & was basically a culmination of everything that I had learned this month working on this!!!
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If you have any criticism about the artwork or an aspect you don't like, leave a comment about it, I'd love to hear it, bad or good & if you can, be sure to tell me how I can improve on the aspect you don't like or criticized about!
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Follow for more art & if you like this artwork, be sure to press the like button or double tap the image
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Materials:
Faber Castell Polychromos Colored Pencils
Touch Twin Alcohol Markers
Electric Mono Eraser
Daler Rowney Red and Yellow Smooth Cartridge Paper
Sakura Gelly Roll White Pen
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Time Spent: 46hrs
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Size: 16.5 x 23.4 inches
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If you want to repost my art, make sure to credit me!
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If you would like to use my art as reference, feel free!
Thank you!
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tirednotflirting · 1 year
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night went from so good to the absolute worst so fucking fast last night and i have yet to rlly cry about it
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ariaste · 9 months
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The Magic Trick You Didn’t See: Being An Analysis of Good Omens Season 2
(or: Neil Gaiman, Your Brain is Gorgeous But I Have Cracked Your Sneaky Little Code And Have You Dead To Rights*) (*Maybe)
***
Soooooo I just spent the last 48 hours having a BREATHTAKING GALAXY BRAIN EPIPHANY about Good Omens Season 2 and feverishly writing a fuckin16,000 word essay about the incredible magic trick that @neil-gaiman pulled off. 
Yes, it’s long, but I PROMISE your brains will explode. Do you want to know how magic works? Do you want to know what Metatron’s deal is (I’m like 99% sure of this and it’s EXTREMELY FUCKING GOOD)? Do you want to know about the Mystery of the Vanishing Eccles Cakes and the big fat beautiful clue I found in the opening credits? Do you go through the whole inventory of Chekov’s Firearm & Heavy Artillery Discount Warehouse? 
Here is the essay, go read it: https://docs.google.com/document/d/193IXS11XN46lziHRb6eUpM17yK0BQkRqke1Wh64A_e0/ When ur done u can tell me I’m an insane crackpot, and u know what, i won’t even be offended
In case you don’t know whether you want to bother reading the whole enormous thing on google docs, I’ve put the first couple sections of it under the cut. JUST TRUST ME OKAY, HEAR ME OUT, THIS IS VERY EXTREMELY COOL, NEIL IS GOOD AT HIS JOB--
Proem
A dark theater. The rustling of the audience: clothes, breathing, whispers of anticipation. The lights come up. A man enters, stage left. He is a magician—a master magician—and he performs for you a magic trick so good and so subtle... that you don’t even notice you’ve seen it. 
You know there must have been a trick—after all, you came to the theater to see a trick performed, didn’t you? And he claims to be a magician. So there had to be a trick somewhere. There had to be.
But maybe there wasn’t. Maybe there was just a man on a stage, talking to you, telling you a story with a strangely unsatisfying ending you didn’t quite understand. 
I know. This is a weird beginning to an analysis essay. But hear me out, because I have to explain the mechanisms of the stage before I can show you what the trick was, where the trapdoor was hidden, and how Neil Gaiman pulled the whole thing off so gently and elegantly that you didn’t notice a thing. Ready? Here we go.
The Facts As We Know Them
Let us begin by establishing a baseline—some fundamental, logical assumptions that underpin the magic trick. These will seem obvious as soon as I say them, which is precisely the point: They are self-evident, loadbearing foundations for my entire argument, and if I don’t point them out, I’m going to sound like a crackpot conspiracy theorist. (Which! To be fair, I might be. I could easily be wrong about all this—but I don’t think I am.)
Our baseline, loadbearing assumptions that preface my Grand Unified Theory of Season 2: 
1. Neil Gaiman is extremely good at his job.
2. Neil Gaiman loves these characters and wants with all his heart to do them justice; likewise, he has a great deal of respect, love, and admiration for Terry Pratchett and is striving VERY HARD to write the show the way Terry would have been happy with.
3. The devil, as they say, is in the details: Neil Gaiman and the entire Good Omens cast/crew are fully capable of doing extremely subtle detail work, as conclusively proven in Season 1 Ep 6, specifically the whole sequence of the body-swap scenes.
With me so far? Great.
The Elephant In The Room
Season 2 was... odd. It was odd, wasn’t it. This isn’t a matter of whether you loved it or hated it—there was just something odd going on.
I spent the entirety of my first viewing very much enjoying myself and being very happy to be back with these characters and this world, but I was also liveblogging to my groupchat as I went, and a theme soon began emerging:
“Neil, what are you doing? Where are you going with this?” “What in god’s name is going on here? I’m so lost lmao.” “What is going on with the music situation?” “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE NEIL” “zombies, ok, I trust u to pull this all together in the end, Neil, but I still don't know what you're up to” “What is going on LOL” “Incredibly what is going on here” “NEIL! WHAT IS HAPPENING!” “Literally what is happening” “Neil Gaiman why have you constructed a regency au for mystery VIBES reasons” “just????????? lesbians????????? dancing what's HAPPENING. just all the background characters are gay here ok sure sure sure NEIL GAIMAN WHAT IS HAPPENING--” “mmmmmmm neil what u doin”
All these are copied verbatim from my liveblogging, and apparently I am not the only one to have this reaction. And to be clear, I was having a good time! I came out to this theater to see a magic trick, and this Neil Gaiman guy on stage is a master magician—but I didn’t see the trick, even though there must have been a trick. 
At first, I wasn’t sure how I felt about the season. I wanted to like it! Indeed, there were many things that I liked about it! But I felt a bit muddled and jumbled up and confused—I felt like there was something I didn’t understand about it, and so I couldn’t yet understand how I felt about it either.
I started chewing on this question in a friend’s DMs: Why is season 2 so fucking odd? What is going on here, Neil? What are you up to? The matter of whether he was up to something was never in question. I knew that he had to be up to something. Writers are always up to something, and as I watched season 2, it was as if I was watching Neil scamper around the room with a mischievous expression as he messed with things here and there and made little tweaks and adjustments to the arrangement of all the Chekov’s guns he’s stockpiling on the mantelpiece. 
You see, Season 2 has some very bad writing in it. HANG ON, DON’T ARGUE WITH ME YET! THIS IS NOT A JUDGMENT CALL!! This is the rug that the trick’s secret mechanism is hidden under!!! This is the hidden mirror that makes the trick work!!!!! This is the trapdoor in the stage!
Yes, of course I will explain myself.
Neil Gaiman is a master magician, but I am a pretty damn good magician myself—I’m a professional fantasy author who has published nine books, and I teach workshops for apprentice writers online and at universities—and if there is one thing I have learned about the process of achieving mastery of your craft, it is this: 
Regardless of what medium they’re working in, the apprentice artist is concerned primarily with achieving realism via an expansion of their control—control of their brush strokes as they paint a photorealistic eye; control of their deck of cards, the mechanisms of their magic tricks, and where the audience’s attention is being directed; control of all the little factors of voice, plot, character, setting, suspense and surprise that go into writing a good story. However, the master artist has achieved that control—so much so that it often looks effortless to an untrained eye—and sometimes the master artist returns to a messy, amateurish style simply because they have control even over this too. 
As an example, consider Picasso and his entire body of work. He begins as an apprentice focused on achieving control, doing portraits of people that look like people—like what we expect a portrait of a person to look like. Then, as he grows in skill and gradually achieves mastery, he pulls away from realism. He develops a style, he experiments with faces that don’t look like any human alive  colored in ways that do not appear in nature. He expands his control. His work becomes abstract. Towards the end of his life, he starts experimenting with what’s called “Naive art”, something that a 5 year old could theoretically draw... but you have to achieve mastery before you can do it on purpose and have it look good. 
On one hand, Neil Gaiman is extremely good at his job. On the other hand, Season 2 has bad writing in it.
What does that tell us?
Well, we know from our Baseline Assumptions that Neil Gaiman is simply too good of a writer to fuck up through garden-variety clumsiness and lack-of-control the way an apprentice writer would. Additionally, he cannot fuck up by accident in this case because I am positive that the man is scrutinizing his work on Good Omens far too closely to let anything slide—for Crowley and Aziraphale’s sakes, for David and Michael’s sakes, and especially for Terry’s sake. The stakes are sky-high, and he cares too much to write a weird, kind of “bad” season by accident.
Which leaves only one option: He did it on purpose.
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(Am I sounding like a crackpot conspiracy theorist? Baby, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet. I’m gonna get SO MUCH MORE CRACKPOT.)
If he did it on purpose, then the natural question to ask is: WHY!?!?!??
It’s a great question. Not “Why?” in terms of why he as an individual person with emotions would decide to do that, mind you. More like, “What purpose does this serve for the structure of the narrative?” There is a story he is intending to tell, and out of all the choices he could have possibly made, for some reason this one was necessary and correct in order to achieve that end goal—so what was that reason?
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See? Intentionality. He knows exactly what details he left in, and he did it on purpose. (Editing! It’s important!)
So there has to be a reason. It’s like when a master magician “casually” rubs an itch on his nose—why did he do that? What is he sneakily slipping into his mouth by hiding it under the excuse of this little gesture that does not even register to you as meaningful? (If you haven’t watched enough stage magic to know what I mean, watch this.)
This question is, of course, impossible to simply answer out of thin air without any further evidence. It is a dead end—so we must adjust the question and come at it from a different angle.
The one I settled on when I was chewing on this was: Well, okay, what do I mean when I say “bad writing”? What is it about S2 that makes it feel so goddamn odd?
The Pledge, The Turn, and... The Conspicuous, Expectant Silence
There are three parts to a magic trick: Pledge, Turn, Prestige. 
First, the Pledge: You show the audience something ordinary. Second, the Turn: You make that ordinary thing do something extraordinary, like vanish. Third, the Prestige: You bring the ordinary thing back.
To quote the 2006 film The Prestige just after its explanation of the first two parts: “You want to be fooled. But you wouldn’t clap yet, because making something disappear isn’t enough. You have to bring it back.”
You have to bring it back.
When I teach apprentice writers, I call this a “setup-payoff cycle”. Achieving control and dexterity with this tool is crucial, because the setup-payoff cycle is the engine of the story—it’s what makes the story run. You can have a setup-payoff cycle at any scale—I have read ones that were a single sentence long; I’ve read ones that were two books long. Additionally, all jokes, no matter how long they are, are structured on a setup/payoff cycle. These cycles work precisely the same way a magic trick does:
You set up the audience’s expectations. (Optional but generally considered stylish and elegant: You give those expectations a firm jolt to throw the audience off-balance.) You pay off the audience’s expectations in a way they weren’t expecting, while saying “TA DA!!!!” really loud with your arms flung wide.
Audiences really like this. A setup-payoff cycle executed just right makes the audience’s brains light up like Times Square and hammers on their mental “reward” buttons like nothing else. It’s like you’ve personally handed them a cookie and a gold star. They go wild for this.
Here’s an example of a setup-payoff cycle, though it’s not a perfect one—and you’ve probably heard it before, so you’re not going to be throwing chairs and tearing down the theater from sheer glee:
The Setup: Knock knock. Who’s there? Banana. Banana who? The Jolt: (the joke starts over and repeats several times without reaching the payoff (aka the prestige) while the audience grows more and more annoyed and frustrated about the unfulfilled expectations, until finally...) Knock knock. Who’s there? Orange. Orange who? The Payoff: ORANGE YOU GLAD I DIDN’T SAY BANANA?
Good Omens Season 2 feels so fucking odd because the setup-payoff cycles are incomplete—nearly all of them are, and the ones that do close the loop do so in really weird ways which, as a professional author, make me feel kind of, “Bwuh?????? But where’s my cookie? Excuse me??? Sir???? Neil????? My cookie, tho???”
When I realized this, when I finally put my finger on why the whole season was giving me some uncanny valley heebie-jeebies, a chill ran down my spine. (The rest is here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/193IXS11XN46lziHRb6eUpM17yK0BQkRqke1Wh64A_e0/ I’M GOING TO GO STARE INTO THE ABYSS NOW BYE)
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charliemwrites · 2 months
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Mister(s) Steal Your Girl — part 3
(I seriously need to come up with an actual name for this series before it sets in)
Introducing his grand horniness- John “Soap” MacTavish
It’s been six, coming up on seven, dates with Kyle. A dwindling part of you feared that after the absolutely mind-blowing night you two shared, he’d ghost you or something.
But nope, the morning after was spent in one of his jumpers, receiving kisses and breakfast and tea. The two of you watched movies all day until he drove you home, kissing you at the door. He let you keep his jumper.
Not three days later, he invited you to a movie you’d both been excited to see, and giggled over the popcorn bowl like teenagers. He didn’t even mind that you leaned over to whisper during certain parts, or the ramble you went on afterwards. (When you apologized for overanalyzing and talking so much, he gave you a bizarre, almost offended look. “Don’t you dare stop,” he huffed, “you’re way better than radio. What did you think about that after credit scene?”)
A few days after that, he called with apologetic news.
“Being shipped out for a couple weeks. Shouldn’t be anything too dangerous, and I’ll call when I can,” he explained.
You told the nervous little twist in your gut that you knew this about him. That this is Kyle’s job, not a convenient excuse to ignore you.
“Stay safe regardless,” you murmured earnestly into the phone. “I‘ll… I’ll miss you, Kyle.”
“You’re getting the biggest hug when I get back, darlin’,” he promised.
He kept to it too. Called at odd hours sometimes - once during dinner with your fiance even. But Brandon is always taking random calls nowadays, so you figured, given the circumstances, it’s not such a big deal to excuse yourself either.
On the other end of the call, Kyle sounded a bit tired, but happy to talk to you. He couldn’t tell you anything about what he was doing, but shared some smaller, safer details. That the tea was shite because Soap kept over-steeping it. That his lieutenant was big enough to body slam him during sparring practice. That Captain Price wishes you well and promises to bring Kyle back in one piece.
You even heard one of his teammates in the background, asking Kyle if he was “chirping at his new bird.” Soap, as you found out. They sound like a good bunch.
When Kyle comes back, you offer to welcome him at his apartment. You bring a little plate of cookies and a pack of his favorite beer, hoping it’s not too much. But when he opens the door, his expression melts before he scoops you up in the big hug he promised.
“You’re a fuckin’ dream, ya know that?” he murmurs, tucking his face against your neck.
You spend the whole weekend with him, kissing at the stitched-up knife wound on his muscled arm. Otherwise, all in one piece.
“Would you… want to meet my mates sometime?” he asks as you’re getting dressed for work Monday morning.
“Of course,” you reply instantly. Realize that might be too eager. “If you want to introduce me, that is.”
“I want to show you off to the bloody Queen, babes.”
You giggle, crossing the room to drop a quick kiss on his lips. He tries to draw you in for something deeper, but you wiggle and swat at him, complaining that he’ll make you late.
It’s good, you think. Blissfully good. Honeymoon phase, maybe, but considering how far off your actual honeymoon is, you feel like you deserve this. Kyle is a wonderful partner - kind, attentive, respectful. He listens, he cares, he’s independent of you and respects your boundaries. Sometimes you can’t believe you were ever nervous about this open relationship thing in the first place.
On Wednesday of that same week, Kyle tells you that Soap is going to visit and is eager to meet you. He was thinking dinner and drinks, come back to Kyle’s apartment afterwards. You readily agree.
The next day, a bouquet comes in. It’s a beautiful, though not extravagant, arrangement. Calla lilies, roses, and hydrangeas. The note that comes with it says, “Wanted to make a good first impression in case Kyle told you lies.” It’s signed “Johnny.”
You send a picture to Kyle, amused and a bit endeared. It brightens the rest of your day so much that you barely notice Lucy’s usual snide comments.
On Friday night, Brandon is unexpectedly home. Usually he doesn’t even come home from work on Fridays anymore - or at least he didn’t before you met Kyle. Lately, you only pop in if you’ve forgotten something for your overnight bag. You had to stay late at the office today, though, and your apartment is closer than Kyle’s.
“Was thinking we could go out tonight,” he tells you.
“Oh,” you say, taken aback. Not just by the invitation, but by the mix of emotion in your gut. Some of it is excitement and relief, but not as much as you’d expect. It’s warring with unease and reluctance, a bit of frustration that now of all times he wants to reconnect.
“Um, raincheck?” you offer, smoothing down your dress. It’s a new one you picked out with Kyle; you’re hoping he (Kyle) will notice. “I have plans.”
Brandon’s brow furrows, smile going tight. “You can’t reschedule?”
God you hate confrontation and he knows that, doesn’t he? Why is he pushing?
“Well I don’t know when I’ll get to see them again,” you explain.
Suddenly the tension in his shoulders eases. “Oh, is it a few people then?”
“Just a couple. I’m meeting one of them for the first time.”
“Have fun then,” he says, fishing his phone from his pocket. Like you’re not even there anymore.
You blink, then your phone buzzes with a message from Kyle and you hurry out the door.
“I knew you’d look terrific in that dress,” he says as soon as he sees you.
Thoughts of Brandon, that strange interaction, and those churning feelings all disappear in an instant. Kyle just has a way of soothing you.
The restaurant is one that has quickly become one of your favorites with Kyle. Good food, good drinks, quiet and relaxed atmosphere. You like the funky artwork and squishy booths.
Soap (Johnny?) has already gotten your party a table, and stands as the two of you approach. You nearly stop right there, and then almost trip a bit as momentum urges you onwards. Manage not to make a fool of yourself, but you still boggle at him.
Because Kyle? You thought he was a fluke. Just too handsome to be real, never mind tall and fit and friendly and— well, anyway.
You thought he was a fluke.
But Soap/Johnny is goddamn handsome too! Trim stubble, pretty eyes behind thick lashes, a soft-looking Mohawk that gives him a boyish charm without seeming immature.
“There you two are, thought ye stood me up!” he greets, drawing Kyle into one of those friendly man-hugs with the shoulder pats that look like they hurt.
“Youre a cheap date anyway, MacTavish,” Kyle replies, gently easing you forward with a hand on the small of your back.
“Och, don’t bad mouth me in front of a lady,” Johnny/Soap complains, then turns his twinkling gaze to you and offers a hand. “John MacTavish, but this bampot calls me Soap.”
“Not Johnny?” you ask curiously.
You take his hand, find callouses similar to Kyle’s. But his palm is a bit broader, a scar along his thumb - from a burn it looks like. Just as warm, just as careful. A firm, but not tight shake.
“You can call me anything you like, lass,” he says. From the corner of your eye, you see Kyle choking back a laugh. Johnny it is, you figure.
“Wait ‘Soap’ is a callsign right?” you ask as Kyle herds you into the booth.
“Right-o,” Johnny replies, smiling.
“Does Kyle have one?”
The grin that he gives you would make the devil sweat. As it is, Kyle groans and shoots you a betrayed look.
“Oh does he, lass.”
You light up, grin right back. “Tell me?”
“As if I could say no to a pretty face like that!”
And so begins a long, warm, perfect night. Johnny is great company. Welcoming and friendly, quick to smile, sharp witted. You could sit all night listening to him and Kyle quip at each other, but they’re so careful to keep you included and engaged.
Johnny even offers you some of his chips when his order comes, and you’re too delighted to say no. Not that Kyle seems to mind, encouraging you to steal a couple for him since Johnny keeps whacking his hand away.
The night ends back at Kyle’s. You whip up another batch of cookies with some suspiciously new-looking baking ingredients. The boys keep you company while you work — Kyle mixes the batter when your arm gets tired and Johnny keeps your wine glass full. In the end, you let them each get a lick of the dough spoon.
Eventually, you move to the couch, climb on together. Kyle, for some reason, scooches you into the middle instead of one of the ends, but you don’t mind and neither does Johnny, it seems. They argue over a movie to put on, but it doesn’t matter because the three of you talk through most of it anyway.
The second movie is your pick, which is your downfall. You barely get halfway through before dozing off. End up stirring to muffled laughter and harsh whispering. You’ve slumped into Johnny, you realize, seeing Kyle’s broad smile.
“Oh,” you hum, trying to sit up. “‘M sorry…”
“You’re alright, lass,” Johnny murmurs, gently nudging you back down.
“Kyle?” you ask, yawning.
“Still watching the movie, sweetheart. You can go back to your nap. Soap’s nice and warm, yeah?”
You hum, snuggle in again. He is comfy. “So are you.”
Another quiet chuckle. “I know, love.”
He rouses you later — the movie must be over, you think blearily. Kyle scoops you up, plants a kiss on your cheek as you tuck in.
“Say good night to your teddy bear, baby.”
“‘Night, Johnny,” you mumble, nuzzling your face into Kyle’s neck.
“‘Night, bonnie.”
You wake first the next morning — rare and precious. Kyle is lying behind you snoring softly, arm around your waist. You wiggle around to watch his sleeping face for a minute, appreciating the peace in his features. Drop a whisper-soft kiss on his cheek and then slip out of bed.
He grumbles a bit, but you coo at him to go back to sleep and he subsides quickly. Once you’ve freshened up in the bathroom, you pad out to the living room. Johnny is up as well, watching tv on low volume with a coffee on his knee.
“Mornin’,” he says.
“Good morning,” you chirp back, continuing for the kitchen.
“You’re up early,” he observes, following.
“Slept well,” you reply, grinning. “Thanks in part to you. I hope that wasn’t uncomfortable.”
He ducks his head a bit, a light flush blooming across his ears and cheeks. “Nah, can’t complain about a pretty girl fallin’ asleep on me. Means I must have made a good impression, eh?”
“Oh! That reminds me - those flowers were gorgeous. Did you know calla lilies are my favorite?”
“Aye, Kyle’s been talkin’ about ya nonstop since ye met.”
It’s your turn to flush, and much brighter. You hurriedly turn to the cabinets.
“Well, thank you. I loved them.”
“Yeah? I’ll send you more then.”
Startled, you whip around on him, mouth stupidly open as you try to find a response. “You really don’t have to do that!”
“But what if I want to?”
And if you were struggling for words before, you’re hopeless now. So you just throw your hands up with a little “gah” sound and turn back to gathering ingredients.
“What are we making?” Johnny asks, taking mercy on you. Not that using that sly “we” isn’t devastating to your composure.
“My super special flapjack recipe,” you answer. “Could you get that big bowl down for me?”
He steps past you to do so while you dig out the measuring spoons from the dishwasher.
“If they’re as good as your cookies, then I’m gonna need extra PT after this weekend.”
“Good,” you reply, smug, “that’s my goal.”
“Dangerous woman.”
You snort, holding up a wooden spoon. “Oh yeah, I’m a real threat brandishing cooking utensils at a special ops guy.”
“Och, don’ sell yourself short - my nan used to be a menace with those things!”
Kyle exits the bedroom fifteen minutes later to the smell of cinnamon and his best friend with a face full of flour.
“…Do I even want to know?”
“Just be glad she’s on our side, Garrick.”
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lazyjellyfish300 · 4 months
Text
Mom and Dad are fighting on Christmas 🎄⛄🖤
Miguel O'Hara x wife reader
TW: MINORS DNI, angst, relationship and marriage troubles, fighting, insecurity, jealousy, postpartum, talk of divorce, mild smut at the end (p in v, idk to me it's mild, I've seen worse) word count 3.3k
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Credit to the gif owner keezinemugstudent! 🙏🏽
Synopsis: your marriage to Miguel is on the brink of collapse. He wakes up and tries to fix it on Christmas. Jerry Maguire inspired. 😁
Valentine's Day spinoff sequel
I tried to write something angsty. Hope everyone had/is having a good holiday season! ⛄
----------
Miguel's in the doghouse and he knows it. You requested a separation after you reached your limit. The kids were sick in the weeks following Thanksgiving and before Christmas and he spent the whole time working late and coming home at suspicious hours in the morning, leaving you drowning. You and the kids were piled in yours and Miguel's bed when you'd hear him come home, the front door closing and his familiar footfalls dredging down the hall, pausing only at the fridge before passing out on the couch. Oh you hated him right now. The resentment had creeped in and poisoned the marriage inside and out when he became exceedingly obsessed with work.
Protecting the stability of the multiverse was a huge undertaking, but, like all things in his life, Miguel took it to the next level. But when it came to his personal life, he was grievously lacking. The passion where you two would do it twice a day and couldn't keep your hands out of each other's pants? Ancient history. The small pecks you'd trade in the mornings were a thing of the past. Gone were the days you two would text all day and go out for dates. You didn't so much as get an "on my way home" text, instead letting the sound of his car pulling in the driveway be your confirmation of his return. You two were more roomates at this point than husband and wife.
Traditionally, on Christmas Eve after the kids went to bed, you two would take that time for each other, eating the cookies for Santa that were conveniently your favorite kind, placing the presents you two carefully shopped for and wrapped (well, mostly you wrapped), under the tree. A hysterical giggle would escape your lips at the milk mustache on Miguel's face. Then you'd two get busy on the floor in front of the fireplace, fighting back laughter as you tried to keep your moans down, every year struggling a little bit more than before because your knees weren't what they used to be before taking it to your bedroom for one more round before the chaos of Christmas morning began.
He was perfect in the beginning. The romance between you two used to be at an all time high. He was a nerd in the same friend circle when you knew him in high school, wickedly smart, the guy who won the Robotics and Math Olympiad comps and got visits from Ivy League college STEM departments, eager to scoop up his talent. Sure, he was cute, but when he went to college is when you heard he had a major glow up and became kind of cocky. You heard about how he became Spider-Man and was pretty much the greatest thing since sliced bread in the eyes of the people, saving lives and fighting villains and all. You knew how the opposite gender seemed to malfunction and forget how to act around him, so you stifled away your tiny crush you had on him for years in the smallest crevice in your brain in a forgotten folder, never thinking it'd see the light of day.
When you saw him at your high school reunion, you decided to be brave and remark on how they're playing Nickelback, which he shrugged and said he actually enjoyed them, to which you sheepishly admitted that you really enjoyed them deep down too, you just couldn't resist making yourself the person to talk shit, since there's always gotta be one hater when Nickelback comes on. A canon event, if you will. This earned a tiny side smile from him, a chink in his stoic armor. After 8 beers, some flirty jests, and a little backseat rendezvous in his car, that became the last night that you two spent apart.
You were a single mom and he was a single dad. He had Gabi who was now 10 and you had Marcus who was now 6. Then you two had little Anthony together who was now 2. At first he was at all the doctors appointments, all the parent teacher conferences, he knew what the kids were doing in school. He did bed times every night, reading in a silly voice with Gabi and Marcus both balancing on his lap while you rocked baby Anthony, smiling when you heard the kids giggling from the other room. You'd walk in after baby Anthony fell asleep in his crib, your heart melting as you saw this handsome giant of a man usually known to be cold and serious to everyone else, turn into the doting husband and loving father you knew him to be. Now, years of the monotony of every day life, pressures of raising a family, and the dying egalitarian attitude you two had as partners snowballed into your own version of Gottman's four horses, leading your marriage to Miguel into apocalypse.
At first, he welcomed the separation as you two battled in the kitchen.
"You wanna separation, fine, I'll do you one better. I'll fucking leave! Felicia's better company anyway," he smirked.
There wasn't real truth behind his statement, but he knew it would hurt you when you heard it. He'd be lying if he said Felicia wasn't an attractive woman, but, she simply wasn't you. He had learned his lesson on cheating years ago when he fumbled his relationship with Gabi's mother.
Ouch. But his words could be daggers when he wanted them to be, and he knew just how to twist them into you. Of course it was Felicia. Felicia, the gorgeous Black Cat recruit from work. Her silvery hair that halted midway down her back and startling blue eyes that could drown any man in them. She didn't have kids either, a life with her promised excitement, passion, and freedom. She was witty and funny and had a way of making anyone in her vicinity listen when she spoke. And to add insult to injury, she had a killer body.
After giving birth, you became so busy, and with reassurance from Miguel that you were still beautiful to him, you let your desire to get your body to "snap back" sit on the back burner. Signs of motherhood and postpartum marked you with purple stripes running vertical on your soft belly and a new plushness to your thighs. Basically, Felicia was a complete 180 from the woman you were, which made the sting of his words that much more unbearable. He took your vulnerabilities and threw them in your face.
"Oh so you admit it, finally! I know there was something going on between you two. Makes sense. She's a gorgeous woman, right? She can fucking have you then. What, are you in love with her?"
Miguel rolled his eyes, annoyed with the superficialness of your statement and your obsession with looks, despite him reassuring you many times that he wouldn't look at other women.
"I'm not in love with her, but she doesn't nag me all the fucking time like you do. I bust my ass every day for this family so you don't have to work. I don't know who this new woman is that I'm looking at right now and what she's done with my wife, but it's not the woman I fell in love with. It would be nice if you could show me a little appreciation once in a while."
You felt your blood pressure rise.
"Appreciation.... APPRECIATION, are you fucking kidding me?! I was up all goddamn night with Gabi and Marcus. I run this fucking household all by myself. I quit my fucking career to stay home and raise your kids. Do you not understand how lonely that is?"
"I'M LONELY!!! " he yells, triggered, the feelings bottled up, fizzed over and hurtled at you like a cork on a champagne bottle. "How do you think I feel? I got women at work practically throwing themselves at me but I don't do anything about it because I'm a good husband. Meanwhile, my own wife doesn't wanna fuck me. I'm a prisoner in my own fucking house."
Your eyes almost slipped from their sockets from rolling them so hard. He seemed to want a cookie and a gold star for just being loyal, the bare minimum.
"Oh, so you wanna fuck them? Go ahead! Maybe I'd fuck you if you actually gave a shit about me and not like I'm some damn fleshlight you use to get off!" You hurl back.
He left and checked into a hotel down the street.
A few weeks had passed and it was now Christmas. You were getting used to being separated but your heart still ached in your chest. You couldn't go on doing life, when the one person you did life with was nowhere to be found. You couldn't listen to your favorite songs, eat your favorite foods, or even look at your own children without being reminded of him. Gabi was his spitting image. Same with Anthony. Even Marcus, who was his stepson, started adopting Miguel's mannerisms. The way he'd scratch his head while he did his math homework, deep in concentration.
It was Christmas evening at your mom's. You joined the other women in your family, your non-politically correct Aunt, your soft spoken sister-in-law, your mother with a don't-try-me attitude, and your younger sister with a sass to rival your mother's. You were all complaining about the men in your lives, your aunt rattling off about her 3 ex husbands but, 'hey she collects alimony from two of them so she can't complain!', your younger sister complaining about the frat guys at college who just wanna get in your pants, your sister in law who's silent the whole time (your brother treats her like a queen), and your mom about your asshole dad with an erratic mother who was incapable of cutting the apron strings and made her life a living hell. The kids are laughing and playing in the basement, eagerly trying out their new Nintendo Switch Santa left under the tree.
"I'm here for my wife."
Your feminine council meeting is interrupted by an unwelcome masculine figure. It's your estranged husband, Miguel, the coffee-colored strands of hair that hung over his forehead starting to wet from the snowflakes that melted under the warmth of the room as he stepped inside, a look of regret and longing embedded in his eyes that you hadn't seen since your earliest days of knowing him.
His strong hands dangled at his sides in fists, his chest heaving up and down. His navy blazer bearing dark water stains from the melted snow. He had a revelation at work. He and Peter B. stopped an anomaly that was terrorizing the streets of Queens in Peter's universe. The battle was close, almost a little too close to where he lived, putting MJ and Mayday in direct danger. After the job was done, the moving and emotional reunion between Peter B., MJ, and Mayday was his epiphany.
As the little family reveled in their joy and relief of evading the ultimate disaster, the only thing there for Miguel at the point of his return was the inanimate, empty, thin walls of his apartment and the thoughts of you, his severed family, that inevitably haunted him. He needed you back. He needed to apologize and fix it now.
He ran from your house to your mom's in the snow and all. It was the first Christmas Eve he spent not in between your thighs and buried deep inside you. It was the first Christmas morning he didn't wake up to Gabi's blueberry pancakes and Marcus tackling him while Anthony screamed in delight. It was going to be the first Christmas night without his family by his side, an uncomfortably obvious empty seat at the table he rightfully belonged. Next to you.
Sometimes you don't know the value of something until it's gone. Sometimes life gets in the way and you forget to appreciate the person in front of you. Why did I treat my wife like garbage when all she ever wanted was for me to ask how her day was? Why were we on our way to winding up like both sets of our parents? Doomed to repeat the cycle of divorce and hurt. Doomed to lose your faith in love and marriage like all the maternal figures in your family before you did.
Now here he was, in the living room while your mom, sister, and aunt moved towards each other, eyes squinting, three pitbulls willing to jump in on your behalf while your sister in law just stayed frozen in place. He was in enemy territory and he needed to choose his words carefully.
"Not here Miguel..."
"YES here. Right now." He says in a firm voice. "You're not getting rid of me, woman."
You scoff, almost amused by his sudden urgency and painting you like you're the one who wanted this family to be broken apart.
"The kids are downstairs..." you start to say, hoping that the mention that innocent ears could be prying into the adult conversation would help him simmer down.
"I'll see them in a minute." He says flatly.
"I miss my wife...."-he chokes on the last word, wife.
"And I want her to come home." He knew at any time his words would give way to the reservoir of tears built up behind it.
You stood there, incredulous.
"I don't want to come home to an empty apartment. I don't want my own bed. I'm ashamed it took me losing you and the kids for me to wake up. And, I'm so so sorry. I'll do whatever I can to be better. To be a better man for you and the husband that you needed. We both got caught up in real life and focused on the kids so much that we lost each other. Well, this is me trying to find my way back."
Your lips parted slightly as your breathing became heavier. This was all you ever wanted to hear him say. Stop neglecting the love between you two that laid dormant, a plant starved of sunshine. For him to finally shake off the stubborn shackles that was his ego and express himself to you. Let him allow you back into his heart, no longer as a guest, but a permanent resident.
"You're... you're everything to me. And I'm not leaving here tonight until you let me know if you'd allow me the opportunity to get hurt by you again," a tear rolled down his cheek, his scarlet eyes yearning, his hands pining for the feel of you. As though the madness of not having you alone could stop his heart from beating, stop his world from turning, rearrange life as he knew it into a hollow existence not worth seeing.
Your own reservoir could not be held back any longer and started to roll down your cheeks. He managed to peel back the walls you built with his apology, revealing the woman underneath who just missed her husband.
He steps closer to you now, eager to bridge the rest of the space between your bodies.
"You still love me?" he asked softly.
Your chest heaves, shoulders raising then falling sharply, feeling yourself crack with exasperation under his burning gaze as you softly answer,
"Never stopped."
He grabs you and pulls you into him, his embrace is tight as though you'd disappear if he dared to break it. He tangles a hand in your hair and presses his cheek into your head, his eyes closed, drinking in the scent he'd been away from for weeks. You bury your face in his chest, trying to make yourself small and allowing his frame to swallow you whole, not minding his wet shirt and blazer that still have a slight chill on them from the storm outside, allowing your body heat to seep into his. You both began to rock back and forth a little bit, still locked inside your hug. It was as though the passing of time had evaporated and it was only you two in the room, nevermind your family witnessed the whole thing.
After several long moments, you pull apart and he offers you one of his dazzling smiles, one you hadn't seen in months. The kids have made their way upstairs and shriek with excitement when they see their dad and Miguel bends down to scoop them up. You smile and stand beside your mom who scoops you into a side hug. With her blessing, Miguel stays and celebrates the rest of Christmas with you and your family.
Gabi, Marcus, and Anthony are now all tucked in. The sugar from the chocolate they consumed all day had worn off, making them crash hard in their beds. You and Miguel are cuddled up on the couch watching the fireplace, taking some needed time as a couple. You stroke his strong arms that are wrapped around you with your fingertips, watching the way the flames leap and spark in the air when they crackle against the charred wood. You look up at him and feel a wave of desire wash over you that you had pent up for months as you study his chiseled features and the way the fire's glow highlights his skin.
"Should we end this Christmas with a bang?" You ask, pun fully intended.
Miguel looks at you tiredly, trying to act like that wasn't a witty remark but he lets out a chuckle. "I'd love to," he whispers.
He takes both your cheeks in his large hands and brings his lips to you immediately. They're soft and full. You feel yourself melting into him every time he sandwiches yours in between them. He reclines you backwards, slowly, until he's on top of you. He lets the weight of his body and hips come down on you little by little, making you arch your back, so your body can better receive him.
Once he lets you taste his tongue, you open your mouth wider, permitting him to deepen the kiss, tossing kindle onto the growing flame between you two, and it's not the one in your fireplace. You take your turn to dial up the heat, seizing his bottom lip in a gentle nip from your teeth, earning a low groan from Miguel and a tightened grip on your hair.
As you continue your steamy makeout session, he begins to hump gently against your clothed body, a nonverbal plea for the wet friction only the inside of you can provide.
After your frantic hands strip each other of your clothes, you've transitioned so you're straddling him in the lotus position, goosebumps popping up all over your skin as your bare body meets his, a high pitched gasp escaping you as you sink down onto him, his mouth falling open and his eyes shutting closed as he breathes in your ear,
"God, I missed you, baby."
You whine into his neck as you coil your fists in his hair. His hands fly to the soft flesh of your sides, using them to move you up and down, his haggard breaths making you weaker and weaker by the minute. You hum,
"I missed you even more."
The next move of his hips is harder than you anticipated, causing your brain to go fuzzy with pleasure.
"How much?" he exhales in a sultry tone.
"I couldn't stop thinking about you all week,"your tone turning into pleading as you feel yourself approaching your limit.
Miguel can't help but feel himself lose his mind a little bit at your words and at your reaction, sensing you won't be able to hold on much longer.
He lays you down, while still keeping himself inside. He slows down to a more sensual pace, breathing in the sight of your wild hair clinging to the couch cushions, evidence of him hitting you in all the right spots every time the inner corners of your eyebrows squinch upwards and your lips fall open.
His loving eyes burn with worship of your body and how well you're doing as he runs a thumb along your chin then pulls down your bottom lip, leans in and mumbles quietly into your mouth,
"Merry Christmas, Mrs. O'Hara."
-------
🖤
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beiasluv · 5 months
Text
don’t you ever grow up | l. norris (4)
yourinsta’s story | landonorris’s story
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maxfewtrell’s story
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landonorris: you didn’t have to fact check me mate.
: no one or carlos is buying it mate, we know you’re just making excuses to spend time with yn
landonorris: not necessary to point out, at all 🙄
: of course
/
yourinsta: drive safely 😬
: he definitely arrived in one piece
yourinsta: good. McLaren still needs him.
: and you too?
message was not sent
: right away 🫡
f1gossips
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liked by username, username and 25,926 others
f1gossips following the appearance of her son in the instagram story of landonorris, yn ln was spotted in the mclaren garage this morning.
credit to the video owner on twitter
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username MOTHER (literally) is back in town
username Zak rn: 🧍‍♂️
username NO cause literally everytime she’s back in the paddock the whole team starts to work again 😭
username petition for yn to stay the whole season rn
username I miss archie with danny ric 😔✊
username IKR danny raised my boy
username NAH DONT DISCREDIT LANDO
username lando was the best uncle, fight me 🤷‍♂️
username i would never forgive what mclaren did to daniel ric, fight me 🤷‍♀️
username I’m sure Oscar’s going to be a great uncle as well 😔
username Y’ALL SEEN MAX FACT CHECKING LANDO? 😭
username rizz up that baby mommy‼️‼️
username carlos, once again, the scapegoat
username new here, Archie’s her son??
username yep. I’m guessing that she’s a single mom, we don’t know who the dad is
username she don’t need no man, SLAYYY
yourinsta
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yourinsta congratulations to both of you!! the team is proud of you guys! honored to finally witness it first hand this time!! landonorris oscarpiastri 🧡🙌
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oscarpiastri thank you! 👊 back to you
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landonorris thank you! 🍀🧡
username WHAT DID I FUCKING TOLD YOU?
username PETITION TO MOVE YN TO GARAGE FOR THE REST OF THE SEASON
username y’all are delusionalll the cars were meant for susuka
username DONTT CAREEE
username clover leaf. not slick LANDO
username ‘lucky charm’ my ASS
yourinsta
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yourinsta thank you uncle lando!!
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landonorris anything for the favorite driver title! 👊
danielricciardo not fair, I brought him snacks
yourinsta so it WAS you
danielricciardo maybe 😬
mclaren favourite boy on the grid!!
liked by yourinsta
username I LITERALLY SAW HIM TODAY WITH YN!! too cute 😩
username HOW DOES IT FEEL TO LIVE MY DREAMM
username girly I would pay anything to be archie
username anyone coming back to this post after her sighting today 😭
username me 😔✊
username he grew up too fast
username I can’t BELIEVE that this was already one year ago
username ARCHIE STOP GROWING 😭
1 year ago
landonorris
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landonorris drivers by day, professional babysitters for life 👊
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yourinsta thank you guys! dinner’s on me 🫡
landonorris anytime!
danielricciardo when’s the next time?
maxverstappen see you at p’s birthday 👊
carlossainz55 I have presents from spain 😄
yourinsta miss calos! -arch
yourinsta thankie!
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username shut upp 😭😭 archie and p are best friends??
username i think they got to know each other through lando
username SHUT UP that’s fucking adorable my heart 😔😩
username it’s probably because they’ve spent so much time together at the paddock 😔🥺
username kudos to lando and everyone respecting yn’s decision to keep archie private
username i WOULD literally show off my son if he has lando, daniel and the whole grid as his uncles
username she’s protecting her child 🤷‍♀️
username ikr people. she’s not exploiting her child
yourinsta’s story
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yourinsta
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yourinsta summer break!
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danielricciardo how’s arch doing! love from aus!
yourinsta hi danny! miss you! -arch
danielricciardo aw bud! miss you too! tim tams are on their way!
yourinsta i love you but i cannot go through the Tim tams phase for breakfast, lunch and dinner again 😭
danielricciardo one pack? 🥺
yourinsta fine😔
charles_leclerc nice to see you in monaco! maman looks forward to see you both again soon!
yourinsta thank you! it was nice meeting her, glad she loved arch 😊
username I AM SO JEALOUS OF ARCHIE WHAT?? HE KNOWS THE LECLERC AS WELL 😭
username SO NO ONE is talking about her story.
username lando, you’re acting fishy ASF
username the flowers, even inviting her to monaco for the summer break? yeah, that’s obviously what drivers and their engineers do right?? 😩
username MAX tell us something WE DONT KNOW
username he thought he was slick by giving the flowers though archie huhhh? well played, lando
username I feel bad asf for oscar 😭
username shut UP oscar definitely ships them so bad
username EVERYTIME she appears in McLaren challenge, oscar just exits 😭
username lando, this is your warning cus yn is for the girls ‼️‼️
username IKR?? she has been slaying as a icon for so long, and I can’t handle the thought of her being with lando 😭😭
username let her be happy with who she wants? PEOPLE
username he is no longer going to be ‘uncle’ lando 😭😔
username GOOD DAY FOR ME 🦅🦅🦅🦅
username I’m sure they are mature enough 🤷‍♀️ she has been through archie's dad before. miss girl should know what she wants
username PREACH BESTIE
lando.jpg
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lando.png back to the seas 👊 yourinsta
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yourinsta thanks for babysitting! 🤭
lando.png always 🙌
username he didn’t even bother to tag max and his friends LMAOOOO
username he’s got his priorities straight
username when’s the hard launch bestie.
username it’s coming, bestie, I COULD FEEL IT IN MY FUCKING BRAIN
username delulu is THE solulu, PREACHHH
landonorris
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landonorris sorry guys :)
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carlossainz55 congratulations, mate 👊
username A MOMENT OF SILENCE FOR THE SCAPEGOAT
yall ate the poll uppppp 🥺🫶🤪 slayed
if you liked it, interactions and COMMENTS would be appreciated!! if not, then yolo ig.
today’s a great day to take care of yourself!!
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silencesscreams · 4 months
Note
"is there any chance i can fix this?" where james and reader are best friends since birth but he begins to pull away and spend less time with her in favor of the boys, so she just cuts him out of her life and after a while he doesn't know how to deal with it anymore. hiiiii
sad beautiful tragic
james potter x fem reader (angst)
a/n: sorry about any grammar mistakes, english isn’t my first language (also i’m pretty bad at writing angst but i tried my best) also immediately thought of the title because of the taylor swift song, so hope you don’t mind the association. also the first kiss part came to my mind because of a tiktok i saw a few weeks ago but i don’t really remember who’s it was to credit them
warnings: friendship distancing, kissing, fighting, cursing, a bit short (sorry), happy ending
“i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry, honey, please. is there any chance i can fix this? just tell me, please”
you knew james potter and he knew you. knowing meaning comprehending each other, meaning that you stood by each others side for as long as you can remember.
he was your first friend. he was your neighbor and you both grew up together, it was expected that you both would know each other better than anyone.
sure, it felt different when you both started hogwarts and suddenly he had new friends, but so did you. you spent the time you could together, always saving a bit of your days for each other.
during the sixth to seventh year summer vacation, he had spent the whole summer with you, you both would hang out all the time.
until he kissed you.
it was the last day of summer and you both had spent the evening in his room. you were talking about a book you had been reading recently and he listened quietly, like it was the most interesting thing he had ever heard of. until you paused for a brief moment and he moved closer to you. you were sat on the floor with him, the carpet tickling your legs as you played with the fluffy yarn under you.
“honey” he said, you looked at him, doe eyed waiting for him to continue. “a phrase. two words, six letters, two vowels. guess.” he said lowly whilst looking at your lips. your mind went blank.
one vowel for each word. you still didn’t get it.
“what are the vowels?” you whisper back, he smiles.
“i and e” he answers, not taking his eyes from off of you for a second. you knew.
“kiss me?” and so he did. his lips met yours abruptly, his hands grabbed your hips and yours went straight to the back of his neck. it completely changed the way you ever saw him, hell, it completely changed your expectations to a kiss. it was better than anything you’d ever experienced and you loved it.
when you got back to school, it seemed like he didn’t do that, actually, it seemed like he didn’t even talk to you the whole summer.
sure, he did casually say hello in the halls and you might’ve shared one or two conversations, but what the hell? he kisses you like that and expects you to just forget about it? that was the most fucked up thing anyone could’ve done. as the semester went on, your mind was absolutely torturing you over that kiss.
it made you overthink every single thing you ever did around him. but maybe he didn't have time, maybe he was really busy with his studies and quidditch, right? that was probably it.
he saw you every once in a while, said an awkward hi or whatever that thing signaling head thing he did was.
the crush you had developed for him didn’t help at all. it made you crave his presence in your life, even now that you hated him more than you ever thought you possibly could. you missed his pet names for you, ‘honey’ and ‘sweetheart’ sounded so amazing coming out of his mouth.
but from the moment he started to ignore you, you decided he was absolutely done. he was never going to see a smile coming from you ever again, he was never going to get another hello, nothing. james potter didn’t deserve a single thing from you.
your friends agreed. they thought he was a piece of shit and said you should’ve cut him off a long time before.
life went on without him, you barely thought about him. your studies were going well, everything was great.
christmas break came up and when you saw james at the train station, you were pissed. you knew he was going to be there for christmas dinner, he was always invited alongside with his family. you didn’t know how he was going to act then, was he going to pretend it never happened?
when you got home, your mother instantly started asking you what you wanted for dinner and you were glad to be home, you just hated that he was in the house next to yours.
a few nights after you both got home, you were invited for a date by steven, who worked at a bookstore near the city park. you said yes, he took you to see a shitty movie and tried to kiss you after dropping you off at your front porch. you dodged it and gave him a good night kiss on the cheek. james saw it all.
once the date left, you heard him yelling from his porch:
“who’s that?” you ignored him and went inside, sure, you weren’t going to see steven again but james didn’t deserve to know that.
on christmas day you went to the potter’s for dinner, your parents insisted for you to go, even though you tried to fake being sick. sirius was there too, you politely greeted all of them them and didn’t bother to answer james’ “hey”.
when you sad at the side of the living room table james sat next to you, even though that wasn’t his usual seat. you played with your dress awkwardly and ate less, being there was making you so irritated you lost your appetite.
after taking a bite from your desert, you thanked euphemia for the food and told your parents you were feeling a bit sick and that you were heading home, telling them to enjoy the rest of their night.
as you were opening the door to head out, you heard footsteps behind you. you knew james was there and you had no interest to talk with him.
“don’t” you simply stated, stepping out and shutting the door lightly on him, he followed you during the small walk between both your houses.
“hey!” he shouted, trying to get your attention. you were about to shut the door to your house on his face, but he held it with his foot, going into your house.
he pulled you by your wrist but you tugged it away from him.
“don’t touch me!” you shouted at him, staring into his eyes for the first time that night.
“now you can talk to me, huh? ‘the fucks up with you?!” he shouts back, brows furrowed. you couldn’t believe him, what a fucking nerve he had.
“whats up with YOU?!” you step closer to him, throwing your keys on the coffee table in the middle of the living room. “you’ve ignored me for the whole semester and now you wanna talk?” he had never seen you like this. you had never been this angry at anyone or anything around him.
“i’m sorry?” he had no reaction, he knew he was wrong, he just couldn’t deal with it. with anything. he didn’t know what to do after he kissed you, he couldn’t handle any of it. he knew that if he spent more time around you he would fall harder, he couldn’t risk it.
“i’m sorry! now that you don’t have anyone else near for you to talk to i’m worthy of your attention? i’m so lucky, right?!” your eyes started to tear up, but you held it in, he was not getting to see you cry.
“honey, i’m sorry i didn’t talk much with you these past few months, but i tried to speak with you tonight and you didn’t even bother to answer me!” he ran his hand through his hair, looking at you as you sat down on the couch, staring at your hands.
“you didnt even look at me. the entire fucking night. one lousy ‘hey’ is not trying to do anything” he handed you a piece of paper, it was crumpled up in his jeans’ pocket. you knew he was bad with words, but the paper was written front and back. what was he even trying to do? did he think a letter was enough to fix the damage he had done?
“really? you’re a little too late for this, don’t you think?” you said, looking at him angrily.
“fine, don’t read it then. just keep it, okay?” he knew you were about to cry. it was the worst feeling he had ever felt.
“you don’t get to do this to me, james” you hold back tears once you say it.
“i know, honey, i know” he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, cupping your face as you try to not melt because of his touch. he kisses you, but this time you pull away.
“no. don’t do this to me” you say, a single tear streaming down your face, he wipes it off but more tears just keep coming
“im sorry, im so sorry for everything i did and-“ you interrupt him.
“could you just try to listen?!” you shout, pulling away from his touch again. “what makes you think that i want this? after all you did, better, all that you didn’t do?! you kiss me and expect me to forget about it? expect me to be okay with you ignoring me all the time just because you kissed me again? i can’t be okay with any of this unless you actually explain to me what happened. i really try to understand you, but all of this doesn’t help!”
“i love you” he says “i have loved you all my life and i didn’t know, after i kissed you it all hit me and i couldn’t trust myself around you anymore, i didn’t want to hurt you so i pulled away, i just didn’t know it would hurt you more like that. i’m sorry, but im here now and i want to show you how much I do love you” he pauses and sits next to you on the couch.
“i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry, honey, please. is there any chance i can fix this? just tell me, please” he wipes the tears from off your face again. you knew he meant it, you just didn’t know how to trust him again.
“i don’t know” you whisper, looking into his eyes, you had never seen him look this sad. you wanted to trust him, you really did, but how could you? how could you know he wasn’t going to pull something like that again?
you couldn’t be sure of anything, you could only hope for the best and be careful. so you gave it a shot.
“come here” you say lowly, pulling him in for a hug. he buried his face in the crook of your neck and gave you small kisses.
“i’m so sorry, baby” he whispered.
“i know” you whisper back, he looks at you and gives you quick kisses all over your face. you can’t help but smile.
it was going to take a while for you to trust him again, but you knew you could.
2K notes · View notes
jaebeomsbitch · 6 months
Text
The Touch of a Prince (E.M.)
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Summary: You really really like your boyfriend's hands.
Warnings: MINORS DNI, smut, pure smut, explicit, lots of petnames, p in v, banana cream pies. Not edited like always
GIF credit: @foggystreetlights
A/N: just discovered the person who cosplays eddie and makes a whole bunch of eddie gifsets....
It was Eddie’s day off from the tattoo shop. He’d spent the day cleaning the house and when he was finally done he decided to work out an idea for a song. You’d come home about three hours into him practicing, a pencil in his mouth, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration but the one thing you could not get your eyes off of was his hands. The way the flexed with every movement, the way his veins popped when he’d move his hand up. 
“You almost done?” You murmur, eyes scaling your boyfriend. 
“Hmm?” He hums distracted but his eyes turn towards yours catching the tail end of your ogling. His lip immediately curving upward in a smirk. 
“Why? Is my princess in need of her valiant knight’s services?” He says dramatically. 
“Mhm,” you hum quietly nodding your head slowly as you scoot back on the couch. 
“Well if duty calls” he says, placing his guitar back on its stand. His heavy footsteps frantic as he all but practically runs towards you. He jumps on the couch with a thud, the springs creaking in protest. 
“You’re gonna fucking break it” you laugh. The two of you bought this shitty couch after moving in together. Before Eddie had become popular in the local tattoo scene. You could afford a better one but why waste something that is practically new? 
“I was told an urgent matter needed my services” he says pressing kisses to your neck. You can’t help but laugh as you’re pinned under his body. 
“Okay well not that!” You say pushing his face away. 
“Mhm, okay then what does my precious princess in need of?” He says still using that stupid accent. 
Your nose brushes his softly, eyes lashes fluttering against each other. “Do you trust me?” You whisper. A stupid smile adorns his face. 
“Course I trust you. Trust that you won’t bite my dick off  when it’s in your mouth. Did you know the force in a human jaw could do that? Like just cleanly” he rambles, getting distracted like he always does. He makes a chomping motion. 
“Take it right off” he says, getting off of you dragging you with him until you’re sitting with your legs across his lap.
“God you’re so…” you say, making a face at him with face annoyance but there’s a little smile on your face. 
“Hot?” He says with a smirk. 
“No-“ you try to say but he interrupts. 
“Charming? Handsome? God, keep going” he continues.
“Annoying” you say, interrupting him before he keeps going.
“Well luckily most hot people are annoying” he says nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders. 
“You’re insufferable too,” you scrunch your nose at him with a disgusted face. He decides to attack, his fingers pressing at your sides. 
“No! No-“ you try to seat his hands away but you’re laughing uncontrollably as he tickles you. 
“You don’t call me annoying or insufferable when I’ve got my cock in you” he laughs. 
“Please- stop!” You heave for breath seeking reprieve. He lets go of you with a chuckle, going back to his position on the couch as you pant for breath, your stomach aching from forced laughter.
“God, I was trying to ask you a question!” You whine as you sit up. Your hair all fucked up from thrashing around, face flushed. You lean your shoulder on the couch cushion as you look at Eddie.
“My name is actually Eddie,” he says with a smug smile. 
“That’s it! I’ve had it” you grumble a twinge of annoyance creeping into you as you cover his mouth and straddle his lap. 
“Oohh kinky,” he muffles into your palm. 
“Eddie seriously, I’m gonna lose my shit” you warn. He immediately holds his hands up in surrender. You let go of his mouth with a pointed glare, his hands finding their way to your ass. 
“Yes, Princess?” He says with a smile on his lips. 
“No, now I don’t want to. You’re being annoying” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest. 
“Okay fine- fine I’m sorry” he says cupping your face and peppering your cheeks with kisses until you relax against him.
“What did you need?” He says softly, pushing your hair back out of your face. 
“I wanted to do something but you’re gonna find it weird” you mumble. 
“Weird? Like the time I let you hold my dick when I peed?” He says, one of his eyebrows quirked, clear amusement in his tone.
“Eddie!” You whine. 
“Okay, okay” he laughs. 
“Let me see your hand” you demand.
“You gonna read my palm or something?” he asks putting his right hand in front of you. 
“Something like that” you say, you fold his fingers in and unfold them trying to build the courage to do it. To do what you’d been thinking about doing amongst the other dirty thoughts in your mind. 
“You just wanted to play with my hands?” He laughs softly. You roll your eyes finally just sticking his pointer finger into your mouth. You lick at it, swirling your tongue around it. 
“What are you doing?” He asks, amusement lost from his voice. Instead he sounds out of breath, his free hand squeezes your ass, his eyes trained on your lips wrapped around his digit. 
Groaning, Eddie leans back on the couch, closing his eyes as you continue to suck on his fingers. You can feel the press of his half hard cock as you sit on his lap as he massages your ass with one hand. 
"God, you're driving me crazy," he mutters.
You pull his fingers out of your mouth with a string of saliva dripping down your chin.
“I’m not doing anything” you murmur laying your head on his shoulder. You spread out his fingers licking in between the spaces then take his pointer finger into your mouth sucking on it.
Panting, Eddie watches with difficulty as you lick and suck on his fingers, his cock throbbing in his jeans.
"Do you have any idea how sexy that is?" he asks hoarsely.
You look up at Eddie with your big doe eyes. Cocking your head to the side innocently as you take in his middle finger and start sucking on it. This was your payback for Eddie’s annoying behavior. 
Eddie shakes his head, rolling his hips up to gain friction. 
“Fuck, need to be inside you princess” he pants. You hum around his fingers, sucking on them harder at the proposition. His one hand fumbled with the button on his jeans and yet he perfectly undoes it and unzips the zipper. You look at him with a questioning gaze.
“What? I have a lot of practice” he murmurs, cheeks glowing red. He’s cute when he’s embarrassed. Nonetheless he pulls his jeans and underwear down, his cock bobbing out of the fabric. It lightly slaps against his stomach, smearing precum over his maiden tee. 
He slips his fingers out of your mouth, you can’t help but whine at the loss but he doesn’t give you a second to think. He’s yanking down his boxers that you’re wearing, thumb finding your clit as you kick them off. 
“S-shit” you moan pressing your forehead into his shoulder. 
“You’re so fucking far” he grunts, pulling you closer by the waist. You can’t help but laugh breathlessly but then his thumb is rubbing tight circles on your bundle of nerves, your thighs trembling. 
“F-fuck okay okay okay” you pant not even knowing why you’re saying okay but you’re hovering over his cock. Eddie holds it at the base aligned with you perfectly to sink into him like an animal in quicksand. 
“Not until I have your fingers” you whisper, swallowing hard. You feel like you’re slowly losing any semblance of humanity, like poison drips into your blood stream. Converting you into a primal cock hungry whore. 
“Always have to draw things out don’t you?” He pants while shaking his head. His thumb leaving your clit, middle finger slipping into your sopping pussy. 
“Mmm f—f” you stutter, the press of  his warm metal rings at your labias having you forgetting your name. You look down, the veins on his inner wrist flexing, the bracelet on his wrist slightly bouncing with the movement, his eyes staring at the way you take his finger then sliding in his ring finger. Stretching you out as you start rocking your hips against his palm. You grip his shoulders harder. 
“G-guh fuck Eddie” you moan, your head dropping in defeat as he curls his fingers. 
“That’s it, ride my fucking hand” he all but growls. If he’s gonna be tortured he might as well enjoy it. 
“Look so fucking pretty like this, Sweetheart. Got you all dumb from just my hand. I see the way you look at ‘em. Think you’re smart, huh? Looking away from me when I look over” he chuckles, his free hand gripping your hip moving you to ride his hand harder with each hard press of his fingers. 
“C-can’t help it” you moan. Heat pools at your core, the familiar burn feels like lava, your face pressed desperately into his shoulder. If it wasn’t for Eddie’s hand on your hips you don’t know if you could move. 
“Aww the poor little princess can’t help it? Can’t help imagining me fucking your pussy just like this? Getting your juices all over my fucking rings?” He grunts with the effort as he feels your muscles start to twitch. 
“That’s it, cum on my fucking fingers. Show me how much you fucking love ‘em” he pants in your ear. 
“S-shit. Oh fuck” you cry out, your nails digging into his skin as you feel the burn deep in your core. Your clit rubbing over his palm, his fingers ramming into your g-spot over and over again, the hard press of his metal rings. It isn’t long maybe a few seconds that you cum all over his hands. 
It drips down his thick fingers, smearing all over his rings, creating a small puddle in his palm. Fuck… you’d never cum this much and all because of his hands. He slides his fingers out of you carefully as you heave for air. 
The heat ghosting over his neck as you relax in his hold. 
He tuts, ”s’only your first own, Princess. Still gotta ride my cock like you’re riding a first prize stallion.”
“S-shit y-yeah just.. just give me a sec would ‘ya?” You gasp. He runs your back softly until you sit up on his thighs pulling back to look at his face. 
“There she is” he grins, using his clean hand to brush stray pieces of hair out of your face. You press a soft kiss to his lips. 
“Thanks for that” you murmur shyly under the intense gaze of your boyfriend. He looked like a man starved for days looking at his first meal. 
“That? Oh sweetheart… you’re not gonna be able to walk tomorrow when I’m done with you,” he says with a cocky grin. 
“Now, I believe I was told that my Princess likes my hands. Hmm? S’that true sweetheart?” He asks almost condescendingly. You nod meekly not knowing where this is heading. 
He grips your hips pulling you up. Your thighs tremble lightly as you’re back in the same position as before. 
“Think you can take it baby? Have a surprise for you, if you’re a good girl” he says, rubbing his thumb softly over your hipbone. 
“Yeah- Yes I can,” you nod. You shift closer, your knees pressing into the sides of his hips as you slowly sink down into him. 
“Oh- fuck” you whine, your pussy still sensitive from your orgasm. Your walls pulse around him, already slick with your cum, coating his cock in it. He tilts your head up to look at him. 
“Open that pretty mouth of yours Princess,” he murmur, his stomach straining not to fuck you hard like he wants. He knows you need him to be gentle right now. You oblige opening up your plump lips with uncertainty. 
He slides his cum covered fingers into your mouth forcing you to taste yourself. His other hand finding your hip slowly pulling you towards him in a gentle roll of your hips. You moan around his fingers for a second time. 
Your tongue laps up your cum gathering it on the tip as you start moving your hips on your own. Instead of bouncing you choose to swivel your hips, keeping a figure eight. 
This causes Eddie’s cock to stay buried deep inside of you, the meeting point of the two rings forcing his cock to press into your g-spot. You curl your toes, gasping around his wrinkled fingers. Fuck, you’re so sensitive. Eddie could sneeze and you’d cum again. Nonetheless you flex your stomach ignoring the way your pussy flutters around him. 
Like a deep primal urge in you knows, knows that you need your fill. 
“Fuck, that’s it” he pants, his desperation growing. He slides his fingers out of your mouth, the skull ring staying behind, you swirl it around your tongue cleaning it and bring it forward to show him just as he grabs your hips. 
“Jesus fucking Christ you’re gonna fucking kill me” he gasps out, his big hands forcing you to bounce on his cock. 
It’s like you lose all inhibitions as you feel the slam of his cock curving into you. 
“Oh- God. Fuck- fuck” you moan loudly. It gets harder and harder to stave off your orgasm as he presses his back into the couch pistoning upwards. 
“S-shit you’re gonna fucking break me” you gasp. Your stomach flexes painfully, your clit rubbing into the thatch of curly hair above his cock ever time he slams you down into him. You pull at the couch cushions behind his head desperately. 
“I- I can’t Eds” you cry, every fibre of your body is telling you to let go. Eddie feels the familiar tug at his balls, a shiver running up his spine. 
“Look at me,” he grunts. 
You try and strengthen your neck but all you can manage is to press your forehead into his. 
“You’re mine, always fucking remember that” he says fiercely. 
“I thought I was the princess” you laugh breathlessly.
“And I’m your fucking prince” he moan. 
You whine “don’t wanna cum yet.” You press up on your knees slamming down harder onto his cock. The only thing preventing you from falling is Eddie’s hands on your hips and your grip on his shoulders
“Love your cock to much wanna stay like this forever” you moan.
Laughing, Eddie pulls you closer, his lips finding yours. His tongue slipping into your mouth, tasting your cum on your tongue. 
"I love you," he whispers against your lips. "I'll never get tired of being inside you.”
“Fuck- come on princess, cum for me” he encourages. 
“No no no no no” you whine but the heat keeps pooling and shocks travel up your spine as you get closer and closer.
Hearing your desperate pleas, Eddie knows you're on the edge. He wraps one arm around your waist, pulling you even closer as he thrusts into you with abandon.
"That's it," he praises. "Just let it happen."
“No Eddie,“ you whine but your pussy still clenching around him, your stomach tightening with effort as you try to stave off your pleasure.
“Fuuuck” you gasp your neck flexing as you grit your teeth.
“That’s it, that’s fucking it” he grunts rubbing right circles on your clit. Your velvet walls clench harder around him, his cock making you completely dumb. 
You let go involuntarily, everything all too much. You cum hard trembling above him, collapsing into his chest. 
“Fuck-beautiful. So. Fucking. Beautiful,” he grunts. 
“Cum inside me,” you pant out. 
“What?” His eyebrows practically fly to his hairline. 
“Cum inside me” you say more urgently, shocks running up your spine. 
“Y- fuck you can’t say shit like that to me” his eyes roll back and his lips part. He cums inside you with a loud groan. 
You sigh as you get comfortable on his lap. His cum and cock still buried deep inside you. You press a soft kiss to the side of his head
“My pretty boy” you whisper. 
1K notes · View notes
melrodrigo · 6 months
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my hair
Wednesday Addams x Fem Reader
Summary: Wednesday lets you braid her hair.
Word Count: 1.1k
A/N: I don’t think I used any pronouns, so it’s gender neutral really (at least i think so, i can’t rmb) inspired by none other than Ariana Grande’s ‘my hair’. happy halloween 🎃!
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“Wednesday.”
The name tumbles out of your lips as easy as the flow of water on a steep channel, and you wonder how a simple word like a day of the week has turned into such a gratifying one.
“Wednesday, Wednesday, Wednesday.” You mumble mindlessly, combing your fingers through her jet black hair.
She makes a tiny huff of annoyance as she stirs in your arms.
She knows you have a thing for words, whether it be big love confessions or simply saying her name throughout the day, which is a thing she’s been trying to get better at, for you. It’s hard, but she’s morphed into the phase of getting used to your soft words and whispered endearments. She bites back the tiny part of her that wants to ignore them, instead letting them seep into and have their way with her.
You ruffle her hair fondly, but not too hard, well aware of how sensitive your girlfriend is about her hair.
It’s something you’ve come to learn about Wednesday, through your many years together.
She does not like her hair to be touched. She also famously doesn’t let anyone else but you touch it.
Admittedly, it only makes you want to touch her hair more.
You nudge her slightly, murmuring in her ear that you guys have to get up for class.
“Ms. Thornhill is going to be so pissed when she finds out I spent the night again.” You say mindlessly, feeling Wednesday tighten on top of you.
She’s still only a second before she’s sitting up straight, rigid, a classic Addams family stance.
“You did sneak in, didn’t you?” She asks.
You roll your eyes, nudging at her to loosen up a little.
“Yes, Wednesday. I attempted to sneak in. She, however, was waiting right outside your dorm room.” You recount, from just the night before.
She turns to you, eyes squinted.
The sight of you makes her heart do a little dance she wasn’t aware it could do. She’ll never understand it, the way you make her dull black heart race. It beats to the melody of her favorite symphony, fast paced and rapid.
Your hair’s a little ruffled, cheeks a little red, while you sit at the head of her bed in your best matching pjs.
She ponders about your words just a moment before she’s speaking again.
“Good. She should know that you’ll be sleeping in here for the rest of the year.” She says, finally.
You grin, childlike.
She purses her lips and makes the decision before she regrets it.
“Do my hair?” She asks, almost more of a command than a question.
You have to keep yourself from practically jumping off her bed in excitement. She’s never asked that before. You try to act nonchalant as you think about it.
Wednesday knows you better though, and she can already tell by the sparkle in your eyes that you’ll say yes.
You could never say no to your girl, after all.
You nod eagerly, following Wednesday out the bed and over to her desk like a love sick puppy.
“Enid better not come in and see this.” Wednesday grumbles, reaching over to grab her hairbrush, one as black as obsidian.
“It would be better than when she came in last night while we were-“ Wednesday squeezes your wrist tight, a sign to shut up, and so you do.
She takes a few rubber bands out her beloved spider shaped box, one you’d given her as an anniversary gift, and places them in a single file line.
You gulp as you realize what you’ve signed up for.
She turns to look at you expectedly, speaking with her eyes.
“Okay..braids.” You whisper underneath your breath, trying to remember how to braid hair.
To her credit, Wednesday doesn’t say anything the whole while you do her hair. Not a complaint about the way it looks, or how you’ve done it.
But you aren’t that dumb. You see through your girlfriends expression in seconds. And you’re self aware, you know you haven’t done the greatest job.
It’s not horrible, by any means. But it’s just not the Wednesday Addams picture perfect braids.
One side is noticeably looser than the other, and it looks more like a loop than a braid.
“Are you finished?” Wednesday inquires, about to get out her seat.
You push her shoulders down softly, and tell her you have a special surprise.
You pull out a set of dark blue bows, tiny compared to her long locks of hair.
“Absolutely not.” She says the minute you show them to her, shaking her head to affirm her statement.
You pout, giving Wednesday your best puppy dog eyes, but her face remains impassive.
“Just one?” You plead, playing with the tips of her braids.
Wednesday lets out a soft sigh and begrudgingly tilts her head so you can put on the bow easier.
“Love you so much.” You whisper, pressing your hand to her cheek lovingly.
You better, she thinks.
“Now, I believe we need to attend class in five minutes. You’ve already made me soft. Don’t make me unpunctual too.” She says, the edge coming back to her voice.
“Wait, are you actually gonna go out like that?” You ask, a little shocked.
“Going to, y/n. There is no such word as ‘gonna’.” She says, and turns on her heel out the door, sure you’ll be hurrying after her in minutes.
-
Everyone stares at Wednesday as you both enter the class. You’re not late, but everyone’s there already. They size up your girlfriend, questioning gaze apparent as they take in her hair.
“Um..Wednesday?“ Enid sounds from the back of the class, “Why does your hair look like that? And are you wearing a bow?”
You flush pink in embarrassment. Was it really that bad?
One look at you and Wednesday decides she has to once again come to your aid when she clears her throat, directing all attention back to her.
“My hair is normal. And I quite like the bow.” She says, in a tone of voice that indicates that that’s the end of the story.
Wednesday keeps her hair like that the rest of the day. Not once does she touch it, or take it out, even with random inquires coming from all the students at Nevermore.
That evening, you catch her grumbling before you enter her room for your nightly kiss on the cheek, words muffled by the door.
“Love has made me so feeble.” She mumbles dejectedly.
You push open the door, pretending you didn’t hear what you just did, and give her just a slightly longer kiss than you normally would, happy as a clam.
1K notes · View notes
happyhauntt · 23 days
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— march fic recs, brought to you by happyhauntt.
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a wee fic rec post for a few of the fics i read in march that altered my brain chemistry!! i've put a lil comment next to each rec because honestly writers don't get praised enough for their work these days and i wanted to show my appreciation for these talented souls!!
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grishaverse.
➡ kaz brekker.
what do you want from me by @rubysunnday. notes: literally perfect wtf.
dark days by rubysunnday. notes: i reread this literally constantly, it is so perfect, kaz's characterisation is perfect, i adore it.
bloody hands by rubysunnday. notes: i devoured this whole thing like a starving person it was sO good.
when am i gonna lose you? by @crowsmybeloveds. notes: this is so beautiful honestly i have no words.
the lost princess by @ellewritesalright. notes: look it's only part one but elle is a fucking wizard and i'm a sucker for an anastasia au.
you and me (a whole lot of history) by @heliads. notes: this was so cute and such a clever concept i fell in love!!!
schat by @amourology. notes: fully choked this is so adorable.
soulmate by @magpiencrow. notes: KAZ BREKKER SOULMATE AU didn't know i needed this but now i need 100 more!!!!
➡ nikolai lantsov.
nine long years series by @ellewritesalright. notes: i am actively fucking screaming over this fic. i will never stop. this might genuinely be the best thing i've read in a LONG while. everything about it has me sobbing i actively CANNOT COPE. and it's not even finished yet.
one of us by @songofpatrochilless. notes: literally had me sobbing you don't understand the domesticity of it all!!!!!.
come on back to me by @atlabeth. notes: there is a very strong chance that i'll literally never stop screaming about this fic.
dreams of you by @wh0refornikolailantsov. notes: every cell in my body is SCREAMING.
this love by @lantsovsupremacist. notes: did not, in fact, give you permission to hurt me like this do it again.
salt in the wound by @in-my-feels-probably. notes: brain goes brrrr this has everything i need to survive tbh.
wanting was enough by @rubysunnday. notes: beautiful stunning magnificent i want to eat it.
an exhausted smile by @writing-havoc. notes: think i had an aneurysm reading this it was that amazing.
run away with me by @sumsebien. notes: i am still sobbing over this.
in emerald hearts, emerald minds by @undiscovered-horizon. notes: love love love love love. there aren't enough words in any language to describe how much i love this.
➡ alina starkov.
alina starkov x reader by @heliads. notes: alina does not get nearly enough love and this was so fucking sad and cute and brilliant.
➡ nina zenik.
the ten steps to 'i love you' by @sophierequests. notes: this was SO HEARTWARMING AND SWEET i adored it!!!
➡ zoya nazyalensky.
forget-me-nots by @syllvane. notes: not enough zoya fics on this hellsite. but also this ripped my heart out and made me sob so RUDE. i feel devastated.
➡ inej ghafa.
inej ghafa x reader by @heliads. notes: INEJ MY SWEET BABY, this fic is everything to me. everything. and it's so beautifully written!!!
➡ the darkling.
the dark side of the moon series by @myhairpintrigger. notes: this fic is ASTOUNDING. i haven’t cried this much reading something in a long time. i was FULL-BODY SOBBING. i don’t even like the darkling. i am Not a darkling girlie. but i was intrigued by concept of this fic and i can safely say it has ruined my life. this is Emotional Damage Incarnate. i will never recover. author, i salute you.
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911.
through the smoke by @borntobewondering. notes: spent twenty whole minutes sobbing after reading this. i felt undone i felt hollow i felt so utterly fucked. author is a genius and that's all there is to say.
not so one night stand by @shmaptainwrites. notes: this was so fuckin adorable i'm in love.
d.c. to l.a. by shmaptainwrites. notes: bobby my guy just doesn't get enough fucking credit and this is so fucking adorable.
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criminal minds.
➡ spencer reid.
trouble almost all my life by @januaryembrs. notes: this series is. it's literally. everything. i love bugsy like she's my own child. sister relationships are everything to me. i spent an hour sobbing in my bed over parts 2 and 3. i want this tattooed on my forehead.
➡ aaron hotchner.
found by @benedictscanvas. notes: DADDY i mean what. all jokes aside this was so sweet and beautiful and i'm in love the writing!!!
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doctor who.
rage rage (against the dying of the light) by @morganas-pendragons. notes: felt feral after reading this. kayla just gets me in my feels every time.
heartbeat by morganas-pendragons. notes: this was the most emotional devastating thing i've ever read and i fully needed 3-5 business days to recover. rude. i want 100 more.
untitled by morganas-pendragons. notes: PAIN i love this so much.
ache by morganas-pendragons. notes: just scoop my heart out of my fucking chest i don't want it anymore after reading this.
a mind full of blissful terrors by @magiccath. notes: simply fucking amazing.
light in the dark by @i-imagine-my-doctor. notes: screaming please i adore this so much.
baby talk by @kisstherainwriting. notes: THE ABSOLUTE CUTIEST EVER. there's not enough clara fics and this had me squealing and feeling all warm and fuzzy!!!
holding my hand by kisstherainwriting. notes: angst galore this was STUNNING.
in another's eyes by @cas-kingdom. notes: PERFECTION.
where do we go now series by @theetherealbloom. notes: literally so fucking amazing i don't have enough words.
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marauders.
the winner takes it all by @ellecdc. notes: brb faye is having a STROKE--
come back, be here series by ellecdc. notes: i think i had a full on stroke while reading this series. the attention to detail is insane. the characterisation is perfect.
i don't know you anymore (maybe i never really did) by @thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels. notes: SCREECHING i'm in love you don't understand.
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bridgerton.
➡ anthony bridgerton.
distractions by @peterpparkrr. notes: simply immaculate.
right person, all the wrong times by @wwinterwitch. notes: did you mean one of my favourite tropes bc this is it.
right in front of me by @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 & @thirteenisles. notes: i felt feral after reading this tbh.
➡ sibling!reader.
reluctant caretaker by @rubysunnday. notes: this fic hit my heart in all the right places okay sibling stuff means everything to me.
did she have a cookie by rubysunnday. notes: a joyous read from start to finish i CACKLED the whole way through.
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moon knight.
come back to me by @mgparker. notes: still sobbing. immaculate.
the other sarcophagus by @starryevermore. notes: i literally reread this constantly i adore it so much!!
marc spector x reader by @softlyspector. notes: i had an aneurysm reading this and i haven't been the same since.
more marc spector x reader by softlyspector. notes: i am having an intense emotion hold on. anytime i see autistic stuff in canon content for any fandom i SQUEAK. and this is so well done honestly.
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star wars.
heartless by @youvebeenlivingfictional. notes: i reread this constantly, it's so amazing and heartwrenching and beautiful and i want to eat it.
little talks by @light-yaers. notes: you simply do not understand how much i adore everything beff writes. i adore this fic more than i need oxygen to breathe.
right where you left me series by light-yaers. notes: personality-defining series. i LIVE for this fic. every update adds five years to my lifespan. if you're not reading this you are MISSING OUT.
a light, a song, a bluebird by @millllenniawrites. notes: made me SOB 10/10 would recommend if you like emotional trauma.
invisible string by @campingwiththecharmings. notes: pining!!! loneliness!!! i adore!!!
hard landings by @softlyspector. notes: no. no you don't understand. this fic doesn't just own my soul it is my soul. i want it tattooed on my face.
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misc.
hopper x reader by @luveline. notes: you don't understand this might be the cutest shit i've ever read and jade is a fellow welsh person which automatically makes them brilliant in my book.
muña by @in-my-feels-probably. notes: alicent means fucking everything to me and this had me sobbing.
mistletoe magic by @writingsbychlo. notes: literally the cutest fucking thing ever, had me kicking my legs and squealing!!
674 notes · View notes
cherrychilli · 3 months
Text
18+
Eddie Munson x flexible! reader, AFAB reader, allusions to PIV sex
Eddie finds out you're double jointed.
A/N: This one's super self indulgent because I'm very bendy and I felt like writing about it. Also they smoke weed but everything's consensual✌️
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"C'mon, there's gotta be something about you I don't know already", he prompts after another smoky exhale, blunt pinched between his thumb and forefinger. It wisps out into the evening air beyond the back doors of his van, opened out to overlook a moon dappled lover's lake.
This is what the conversation had dwindled down to after having spent the whole day together, most other talking points already stretched thin by now.
Usually you would have considered the question more carefully but now that your intuition's been dulled by his stash, you search through the foggy corridors of your mind for an answer like you're feeling around for a light switch in the dark.
Eddie has been your closest friend for the better part of five years now and you weren't exactly a closed book by any means which made coming up with something all the more difficult.
Most of what comes to mind feels too mundane to mention so you pass them over in favor of searching for something that might pique his interest.
"Hmm, I'm kind of double jointed I guess", you slowly recalled, too mellowed out to realize the kind of implications something like that might carry to a man like Eddie.
But where there should have been raised eyebrows and a lascivious curve on his lips you find his eyes narrowing into a puzzled little squint instead as he looks at you from where he's leaned against the back of the driver's seat.
"But we've only had one", he turns the joint in his hand over to examine it closer as if a second one might be hidden somewhere underneath.
Maybe you'd given him too much credit.
You roll your eyes at him playfully, leaning closer on your hands and knees to pluck the joint out of his hand and take another puff. The weed might have made him a little slow and sluggish to fully comprehend your what you'd just shared with him but not enough to prevent him from sneaking a peek at your cleavage from this angle.
"No Eddie, it just means I'm flexible. Like, a little more than most people", you return to your side of the van, leaning back against the side door with your knees pulled up to your chest.
"So, like the splits?"
"More than that"
"More?", his eyes go wide and you can see a hint of redness bordering his sclera, certain the same tinge is present in own eyes too.
"Yeah, like check this out", you hand him back the last of the joint for him to finish off and put out. Holding up your left hand, you fold your thumb into your palm and gather the rest of your fingers with your right hand, slowly bending them back beyond what he thought to be your limit.
The unnatural arc might have unsettled anyone else but not Eddie and you begin to giggle when his face lights up instead of twisting into a wince.
"Shit, does that hurt?"
"Nope", you start to beam a little, letting him take your hand in his when he reaches for it eagerly.
Carefully, he manipulates them, making them bend in all kinds of ways; touching your thumb to your forearm, pushing the first joint of each finger back as far as possible.
"Oh that's fucked", he smiles big and wide as if he could gladly spend an entire day just messing around with your fingers.
"What else can you do?"
His impress fills you with a new kind of high, one much more heady than the weed and you fail to resist it now that you've gotten a taste.
"Mm, I can get my legs behind my head too", you shrug, this time much more aware of what you're divulging.
"Seriously? both of them?", he manages to ask calmly enough though you can almost feel him buzzing under his skin like a cicada about to take flight.
"Yeah, don't even really have to stretch to do it"
His jaw tenses, his normally expressive face unreadable before he quietly asks, "can I see?"
Oh this is dangerous. You feel like you're entering uncharted territory in your friendship but you like the look stirring in his eyes too much to deny him.
"Maybe just one", you offer, thankful that you're wearing your cotton shorts today instead of something denim.
Sitting criss cross on the old blanket he uses to carpet the back of his van for smoke sessions, you slip off your flip flops and place both hands on your right foot. With your left hand cradling the ball of your foot and your right hand gripping your heel, you begin to lift your leg up past your chest.
The underside of your thigh which he only gets to secretly ogle on days when you're dressed like this is bared to him as you get your calf over your shoulder, no trace of pain or discomfort on your face. Dropping your right hand, you duck your head slightly to maneuver your foot over it with your left hand then it's done. Your foot slips into place behind your head, heel nudging the nape of your neck. You're able to straighten up to look him in the eye, shooting him a wink while you wiggle your toes.
"There. Not so hard", you can't help but show off, drunk on the stunned look etched on Eddie's face.
And then his eyes trailed lower.
He does it quickly -- a mental snapshot that he'll file away for later. He memorizes the way your shorts have ridden up, so tight around your core he can make out the print of your underwear and the shape of your cunt beneath the stretched out fabric, wishing he could rip the stitches of the offending material apart and fit his tongue there instead.
Pleased with your display, you untangle yourself smoothly, limbs returning to their rightful alignments as Eddie takes a few seconds to blink himself out of his thoughts. His entirely non platonic, downright debaucherous thoughts.
"Woah that was...wow", he settles, pressing his lips together before his motormouth revs up and he lets out something he'll regret. 'You're like a sexy stretch Armstrong', nearly makes its way through but he's able to bite on to it and swallow it back down just in time.
"You're the first guy I've ever shown that to", you laugh but it comes out a little weak now that you're processing what you've just done.
"Seriously? what about Mark?", he asks, face scrunching up slightly like the name left a bad taste in Eddie's mouth.
The mention of your last ex sobers you up even more. "No, I never told him", you tell him simply, smothering down a laugh. The truth was Mark's idea of kinky was leaving the lights on so you never brought up your little contortionist act, afraid it would be too much for him to handle.
"Don't think he would have been into it", you tell Eddie instead and he looks back at you, deadpanned.
"What?"
"Sorry I just find that really hard to believe", he clears his throat, barely disguising his own interest.
The silence that follows has a certain weight to it. It's a familiar kind of weight that you've felt before on days when you're alone with Eddie and the line between friends and something more begins to blur. The weight of possibility.
"Always wanted to try it", you add, hoping like hell that you haven't misread that hungry look in his eyes.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, I don't know just seems like it could be...fun?", you shrug, a not entirely successful attempt at appearing nonchalant because you've begun to sweat. The van feels far too small all of a sudden which doesn't make sense because you're nowhere near as close as you would like to be with the boy who's seems to be stuck on what to say next.
Call it a leap of faith or call it a huge fucking mistake but you decide to take the plunge and ask him the question that's been beating on the inside of your cranium like a hammer on a nail.
"Eddie, would it be weird if I ask you to-"
"Yes", he answers quickly. Resolutely.
The swiftness of it hurts like a guillotine coming down on your heart -- shot down before you'd even finished the question so you swallow down your regret like a throatful of gravel.
"R-right. Yeah I know it was stupid of me to even try to-"
He doesn't know where he went wrong until he sees your bottom lip tremble and the confidence you'd worn up until now completely strip away, realizing you've mistaken him eagerly jumping the gun for flat out rejection.
Eddie's hands come down on your shoulders as he bolts up to kneel in front of you, shaking you to shock the tears away before they have a chance rise and turn your eyes glassy.
"No! I mean yes, it's not not weird but I don't care because YES, I want to um, do that with you… is what I meant"
His grip eases up but his eyes stay wide to read your expression, chest no longer feeling like an anvil had been dropped on it when a smile breaks out on your face, the kind that feels like it could reach beyond his ribcage and touch his heart.
"Really?", you ask, somehow understanding him perfectly. If there was anyone who could make sense of Eddie's nonsense it was you.
"I mean, if you want to...", he leans closer when he catches you looking at his lips.
"I do want to", you lean in too, hands smoothing up his chest, bringing your lips closer to his.
For all the effort he put into keeping his unfiltered thoughts from spilling out it's just his luck that he stumbles over the very last hurdle before the finishing line.
"Oh my god I'm going to fold you like a pretzel"
It's so abrupt and silly and just so Eddie that you can't help but laugh, dropping your head. His lips skim your forehead and he laughs too, both of you holding each other, locked in a giggle fit until it tapers and subsides.
When you do look back up the heat that had been there before his gaffe returns tenfold. "Maybe leave the dirty talk to me", you place a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him in for a proper kiss.
676 notes · View notes
flamingpudding · 7 months
Text
Fictober23 Prompt: 4 - "Do you even know what this means?"
Fandom: DPxDC
Rating: G
Warnings: -
Tim stared at his family with pure exhaustion before letting out a sigh while covering his face with his hands because of the worried looks they were sending him after his long rant.
It had all started with a stupid school project. It was just supposed to be a stupidly simple school project. Did he think of the whole thing as the greatest nonsense project his school has ever come up with? Yes. Did he still do it? Yes. He needed the extra credits, because of some stupid meetings he had missed other projects which was the entire reason he took part in this one.
Maybe he should have tried buying his grade out of it like all the other snobbish rich kids but then he would feel guilty and the moment Alfred found out, he would have to life with the disappointed™ look. Something he really didn't want to deal with. So instead he took part in this stupid ancestry project his school had organized.
But when he had allowed the school to send in his DNA he certainly did not expect the result he got back. Because when he opened the email, he noted that it was addressed to someone named Danny Fenton not Tim Drake, he didn't even read the rest really. That should have been his first warning.
His second warning was when he had hacked into the that DNA testing facility to actually get his results back and then found a note on his data file about a near 100% DNA match to one Danny Fenton which caused them to assumed that Tim was Danny and just had sent in his DNA a second time after, he peaked through his finger onto the screen, 5 years. That should have been his second warning.
But no, Tim had actively ignored all the warnings and decided to dig into who this Danny Fenton was. Because there were so many possibilities of how they could match but only so little to explain the time difference between them sending in the DNA samples. For dear good Tim hoped to all things that there wasn't someone else to have attempted to clone him before Ra, no worse even, he hoped HE wasn't the clone in this situation.
Really he didn't want to add existential crisis to all the problems and cases he already had to deal with.
So what does one do best when they learn there was someone with nearly the same DNA you have? He looked that someone up. So that was what Tim did next. He had spent nights looking up anything he could find, summarizing all the information he found, branching off when he found other concerning stuff and then stewed in some frustration of the incompetence of some people when discovering other facts.
In the end Tim compiled all the data he had found into a 30 slides long power point. That he had presented to his family and was awaiting their reaction. Bruce had grunted earlier and the demon brat had huffed out something in between slight 25 and 26 earlier. Jason had muttered something right at the beginning and Dick had stayed quiet the entire time, so did Cass. Steph hadn't said a thing either and Duke looked just puzzled.
"Do you even know what that means?" Demon brat finally broke the silence, causing Tim's eye to twitch before aggressively pointing to his last slide still on the presenter.
"Yes, I do know what this means. I have listed all possibilities right here if you haven't noticed. And i explained possibility three, four and six on slide-"
"Replacement. I don't think that's what the brat means." Jason cut in and Tim glared at him.
"Timmy, when was the last time you slept?" Dick carefully asked and Tim directed his glare at him.
"I believe Master Timothy hasn't slept for about 72 hours now." Alfred added in with that disapproving stare of him and time looked away stubbornly. How was the amount of sleep he got relevant right now? There was a possibility of him being a clone or someone having cloned maybe even years before he started to follow B around as a kid with a camera.
Bruce let out a sigh and Steph appeared to try to hide a chuckle leaning on Cass shoulder. "He must be lacking sleep if he doesn't see the most obvious possibility considering the time line he presented on slide 18."
"Oh so, I am not the only one thinking he is missing another obvious possibility?" Duke asked and once more Tims eye twitched. Getting fed up with his family, Tim huffed and crossed his arms, glaring at them all.
"And what is it that I am obviously missing?"
"The screenshot of the mail you put in slide 3 stated that it's not a 100% match but 89%. In addition it stated in the last line a suspected possibility of a familiar relation. I am disappointed, Drake. That you would miss something this obvious."
"What?" Tim whirled around going to the slide to reread the mail.
"Considering that I am pretty sure, we don't have any sort of cloning case here Tim." Dick started his voice now slightly laced with Humor and Tim narrowed his eyes at his older brother over his shoulder. "You just discovered that you had a twin, that we probably still go to rescue."
Tim's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. He did not know what to say and before he could even catch up with what his brothers had said Alfred was already behind him pushing him towards the elevator.
"It is time for you to get some sleep Master Timothy. I am sure Master Bruce and the others will be perfectly able to handle the rest of the situation with the information you compiled. You can join them after you have rested."
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lustsickforyou · 1 year
Text
what side are you on?
sirius black x reader (romantic, to platonic) regulus black x reader (romantic, eventually) james potter x reader (if you squint)
summary: you were born into a pureblood family and taught a special ability since birth, you’ve been used your whole life and you start to want a change.
warnings: arranged marriage, abusive parents, talks of miscarriage, mentions of death, angst
a/n: basing the power off of a heart renderer from shadow and bone, so credits do that. i also added in a scene from call me by your name because i couldn’t resist. will be a multi part series. reader is slytherin.
part one , part two
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Life hadn’t always been easy for you, it was something that seemed so normal at this point. You were born into a pureblood family, one of the sacred twenty eight. When your mother married your father they placed the expectation for her to bare his heir just as they did to everyone else. Your mother tried so hard to perform her duty, but pregnancy after pregnancy she had failed to do so, even though it wasn’t her fault. Each child that she had lost picked away at her soul, and she swore the last time she was pregnant that she would be done after that. She never even wanted kids in the first place.
That’s when you came along, a healthy daughter, but hardly what her husband had wished for. This daughter couldn’t carry on the family name. Your mother was so displeased with herself, the secrets the woman would share in whispers across the board got to her. So in attempt to save herself and her husband from their reputation being ruined, she made a deal with the devil. Tom Riddle himself. She swore that she would train her daughter to become a heart render at his own expense if he would marry her off to a respectable family. He, of course— agreed.
Heart renderers were rare, just like a legilimens. It was hard to perfect, but with you at home every day as a child and with lots of consequences if you did not perform to your mother’s liking, you mastered the art. You could do a plethora of things, both good and bad. You could make someone’s blood boil, get them to do whatever you wanted, get them to say things they would never normally say aloud. But you could also soothe a temper, calm someones heart rate, keep them warm. It was a blessing and a curse.
You were presented to Tom Riddle when you were eight, and he held up to his deal. Use you in exchange for a husband who had a well known name, that being Sirius Black. You two were to be married when you turn eighteen. The two of you spent a lot of time together at home, but rarely ever in school. He was a Gryffindor boy who was out of control, you were a Slytherin girl who kept to herself. Tom and his parents hoped this marriage would keep Sirius in line.
Many people at school feared you, in fact Dumbledore gave strict instructions for you to never use you powers in school. You understood this, followed the rules. The students didn’t understand, and would often say nasty things about you and your special abilities. How you were untrustworthy, that they needed to keep a distance from you for their own safety. You had never given them a reason to be scared, and yet here you were. Cursed with a power that only you saw could be good, but many found deceptive.
Now you were in your seventh year, used for your powers by Tom whenever he pleased, and Sirius had gone off the rails, leaving his family behind and the promise he gave to you along with them. Just before he left his home he came to you, he saw the good in you. Tried to convince you to run off with him for a better life, but you knew you couldn’t.
“Come with me, y/n.” he pleaded, looking down at you with hopeful eyes. You shook your head, stepping back from him. You wanted nothing more than to leave, to finally free yourself from not only your mother’s tight grip on you but Tom’s as well. “I can’t.” you whispered with tears in your eyes. Tom would kill you if you left, he had threatened it plenty of times when he noticed you grew weary of the things he made you do, the people he made you hurt. “Why?” Sirius tried to dig deeper, hopefully to make you realize that there was no reason why you shouldn’t go. “I can’t.” you repeated shakily. Everything in you was screaming to run, but you knew what Tom would do. He would hunt anyone you ever cared about, saving you for last before casting the unforgivable curse and take your life. Sirius stepped towards you. “Please.” he begged. You stepped back again, holding your hands up. The two of you turned your head when you heard footsteps coming down the hallway, you mother calling your name. You pushed him forward quickly. “Go.” you whispered with urgency. “Please come with me.” he pleaded. You held his arms in your hands and pushed him again. “Go.” you repeated but this time much more firm. With that he was gone, and you hadn’t seen him for months.
Now you sat by yourself at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. You looked down at the book Sirius gifted to you on your eighteenth birthday just days before he left. It was a muggle book full of poems, something James had shown to him. You two had each other’s backs in the hardest of times. You understood each other on a different level. When he would panic, you would soothe his heart rate. When you would cry he would be there to comfort you. You nervously tapped your finger on the table, turning to see Sirius enter the Great Hall with his friends. They called themselves the Marauders, proud of the shenanigans the four got up to. You didn’t like them, mainly because you were jealous of them. James Potter was from a pureblood family, but nothing like yours. They were loving and kind. Remus was a half-blood boy that was far too good for this world, and Peter was a half-blood as well who was quiet and reserved. They got along with each other so well, you wondered if that’s where Sirius ran off to. To be with them.
Sirius’ eyes scanned the room, and they landed on his brother Regulus. You knew it must’ve been hard for him to leave his brother behind, but then again they were completely different. Unlike Sirius, Regulus was fully devoted to his work with the Dark Lord. You and him rarely ever spoke, mostly because you thought he may be afraid of you. Sirius turned away and sat down with his friends, but you noticed how every so often he would look towards the Slytherin table. Suddenly he stood up, making some excuse to leave his friends, and headed off down the hallway. You took this as your chance to speak with him, standing up and chasing after him.
“Sirius!” you called after him and he stopped in his tracks, turning around with tears in his eyes. “How are you?” you asked politely. “Good.” he lied to your face, but he knew that you knew how he felt. You could hear his heart pounding in his chest, another perk to being a heart renderer. “I— I read the book that you gave to me. The muggle one.” you tried to change the subject, but you couldn’t drop the fact that he was upset. “The poems, they’re really beautiful.” you commented. Sirius only stared at you. “I’m sorry that you’re sad.” you said softly, you always had a way with your words. You knew he was upset about seeing Regulus after months apart, you knew it stung. “I’m saying that because I wanted to tell you that I’m not mad at you for leaving. Not at all.” you explained. You would’ve left too, so why would you ever be mad at him for doing what you couldn’t? “I love you, Sirius.” you breathed out. You didn’t love him in the way many would expect. Sure you had a crush on him as a kid, but you knew the two of you would never work out. You had love for him, though. You held out your hand for him to shake on a deal. “Stay friends?” you asked even though it was a lie. You couldn’t live a double life, that would only put him and yourself in danger. Sirius knew that too. “For life?” he questioned.
You must’ve been ten, maybe eleven— playing in the woods behind your childhood home. You would play there for hours with Sirius. It was a peaceful place, no parents to scold the two of you, just you and him always. You tripped over a rock, hitting your knees on the ground making you cry at the pain. “It’s okay, I’m here.” Sirius comforted you. “For life?” you asked and he nodded. “For life.” he confirmed.
“For life.” you smiled, and he took your hand to shake it. He pulled you in for a hug, signaling he knew it couldn’t happen. You hugged him back, and soon after he pulled away. He stared at you, his eyes flicking between both of yours. He cleared his throat before walking off, leaving you standing alone in the hallway.
Sirius, James, Remus, and Peter sat in the room of requirement. The year before Dumbledore recruited them to join the Order, a cause to fight for freedom and away from the grips of the Dark Lord. They had been tasked by Albus to speak with a wizard who worked under Tom Riddle, a man who knew anything and everything about their upcoming plans. The only problem was the Marauders were having a hard time figuring out a plan. Once they reached this man during the fall break, they wondered how they would get him to rat out his boss without force. They never had any ill intention, that included torturing this man into speaking. Well— Remus and James had no ill intent. Sirius understood how evil the Dark Lord was, and he wouldn’t draw the line at anything if it meant taking him down. Peter often agreed with Sirius.
“You know what would make this easier?” Remus asked, turning towards the group with folded arms. “What?” James sighed, rubbing his face in annoyance. They had been going back and forth with ideas for hours. They could dress up in a Death Eater’s uniform and pretend they were on his side, but that wouldn’t work. This man was smart enough to know who was and wasn’t apart of the Death Eaters. They could torture him, but that was off the table. They could simply just ask, but when would that ever work? “If we had a heart render.” Remus shrugged and Sirius shook his head. “Absolutely not, y/n is off the table and there’s no way we’re going to find a heart render in time.” he was quick to speak up.
“Why exactly is she off the table?” Remus had peaked James’ interest. “Because I know her, and her family. Her family is like mine but a million times worse.” Sirius explained. “I don’t know about a million—” Peter mumbled and Sirius shot him a glare, making him go quiet. Everyone stared at Sirius with begging looks. “I’m serious, she works directly under Voldemort. She wouldn’t take the shot to betray him even if she had the chance.” he recalled to when he pleaded with her to go with him, and she wouldn’t. “That’s why she was taught heart render powers from a young age, she was literally born to work for him.” Sirius continued. “It doesn’t help that she’s gorgeous.” James added which earned a punch to his arm from Sirius. “Okay, ouch.” James grumbled.
“Okay, so maybe she was born for it. But let’s look at it from her stand point. I mean she was born and taught by her sadistic mother, traded off like she was nothing. Maybe she had no other choice.” Remus tried to be understanding. Sirius had told them all about your story. James pointed at him with raised eyebrows in agreement. “I mean think about it, Sirius. She’s a pureblood Slytherin girl who chooses not to associate herself with the Death Eaters at this school. Evan Rosier, Barty Crouch Jr. She won’t even look at them. Maybe there’s some good in her.” Remus continued. Sirius scoffed. “Trust me, there’s not.” Sirius mumbled and stood up. “We’ll find another way, but y/n is not it.” Sirius said sternly and they all slowly nodded, all except for James. Soon after everyone went back to their dorm and headed to bed for the night. James laid awake, tossing and turning. He couldn’t get the idea out of his head, you could help them. He had been told no on a multitude of occasions, but when has that ever stopped him?
A week had passed and the four boys walked down the hallway after their classes, all heading for the Gryffindor common room. James turned towards them just as they passed the library, spotting you sitting by yourself inside. This was his chance. “I have to go to— bye!” he lied terribly, running off from them. “What was that about?” Peter asked and Remus laughed. “He probably saw Lily or something.” he teased. James rolled his eyes behind them.
James entered the library, hesitantly walking over to you. You were sitting quite peacefully reading your book. James pulled out the chair next to you. “Hello, y/n. Looking as beautiful as ever.” he complimented and you looked up from your book with a confused and annoyed expression. He stared back and after a beat of silence you finally spoke. “Okay.” you sighed, closing your book and grabbing your things to leave. “No wait, you don’t have to leave!” he spoke up and you turned towards him again. “I’m not a fool, Potter. You clearly want something.” you said in detest. “Okay, fine. I want something.” he finally admitted. “What’s that?” you questioned with an annoyed tone. “I want to know more about heart renderers. Everyone says their so bad but— you don’t seem all that bad to me. I’ve never even see you use it against anyone. Or use it at all.” he shrugged. “So what does someone of your nature do?” he asked. “I think you know.” you sighed. “There has to be some good to it, every horrible thing must have a balance.” James almost begged to know.
You finally gave in. “Okay— I can soothe someone’s temper, slow their heart and make them relax. Which clearly you need because I can hear your heart beating loudly.” you pointed out. “You can hear my heart?” he asked curiously. “I can hear everyone’s. Who is this Lily Evans by the way, every time someone says her name your heart beats quickly.” she observed. “Wait— how do you know that?” he asked. You rolled your eyes and finally set down your book. “When you walked in here Remus said Lily Evans, and your heart quickened in pace.” you teased.
“That’s not important.” James mumbled. “If my heart is beating fast then show me how you calm it.” he asked. “Show me how you can get someone to tell you anything just like Sirius says.” James was trying to gain her trust, to show her he wasn’t afraid like everyone else was. “I can’t, I’m not allowed to on school grounds.” you leaned back in your chair. “No one has to know.” James smirked and you stared at him for a second. He wasn’t lying, and he definitely seemed curious about your power. “Give me your hand.” you gave in. James held out his hand palm up. Your slim fingers trailed down his cold hand, everything seemed to suddenly move slow. His heart beat was loud in your ears, and once your fingers reached his wrist and you touched his pulse, it slowed down to a calming rate. “Tell me what you want.” you spoke softly, your buttery smooth voice being the only thing he could hear. He looked into your eyes, before opening his mouth to speak before he even had the chance to stop.
“I need a heart render, give you the chance to do some good in this world.” he answered honestly. You pulled away and thought for a moment. This was your chance, a safe distance away from Tom Riddle and your mother. This was your chance to finally do some good i with your power. You knew you could trust James, Sirius sure did. They were apart of the Order, something you had grown familiar with when Sirius would tell you about it late hours of the night. This whole thing, him needing a heart renderer, had to do with something like that.
“I’m in.”
James walked into the room of requirement for their weekly meeting, a proud smile on his face. “I found a heart renderer.” he said confidently. “What? How did you find—” Peter started but was quickly interrupted when you walked in behind him. “Y/N Y/L/N at your service.” you smiled and everyone had a shocked look on their face, Sirius was no exception. “Y/N Y/L/N?” Both Peter and Remus said aloud. You laughed, moving across the room to face all four boys. “I’ve never had that reaction before.” you smiled which quickly faded when you saw the look on Sirius’ face.
“What are you doing here?” he deadpanned. “I’m here to help.” you shrugged. “James here found me in the library and gave me the whole run down on your little issue here.” you looked towards James who still looked incredibly proud at his doings. “What the hell were you thinking, James? She’s dangerous!” Sirius yelled and you looked over at him with a hurt expression. “You didn’t seem to think so when you came to me to calm yourself down.” you exposed him and he glared at you.
“Listen, we could really use her help.” Remus interjected, and Sirius rolled his eyes. “I don’t mean this to come off rude, but how do we know we can trust you?” Peter asked and you looked at him now. “I mean— don’t you work for you know who?” he asked. “It was more like a limited partnership.” you explained without really having to say much. Everyone fell silent. “Listen, if I was really that devoted to Tom Riddle I definitely would not be helping you idiots get valuable information on him. Yet here I stand.” you held out your arms.
“Okay, so say we can trust you. How do we know you won’t rat us out.” Remus asked and you stared at him before sighing. “I have been used by him my whole life, and never have I been given the chance to actually use these abilities for the better benefit of actually helping people. I think the Order can do just that. I know you’re all suspicious of me, maybe you think I’m using my powers on you right now to trick you, but trust me— you would know.”
“She’s right, it’s like a whole other experience.” James laughed and they all turned quickly to look at him. “She used her powers on you?” Sirius asked in shock. “Of course she did, and let me tell you, whatever she did to me will definitely work on that guy we’re trying to talk to.” James defended your case, something you had never experienced before. “Thank you, James. That was really kind.” you smiled and he nodded. “Fine, but after this you’re done.” Sirius was still suspicious.
“Great! When do we start?”
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moonsgemini · 10 months
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dress - rafe cameron
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summary: she’ll always wish she could enjoy the midsummer’s celebrations instead of working at it, but her secret moments with the kook prince make the bad tips worth it
warnings: rafe x pogue!reader, typical classist stuff but not from rafe, fluff, angst, mutual pining, alcohol, kissing
wc: 3.5k
an: this is based off of dress by taylor swift but my own interpretation of it I guess. If you guys want a pt. 2 with smut let me knoooow, I’m such a s!ut for rafe cameron pleaaaase
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our secret moments in a crowded room, they got no idea about me and you
Midsummer was probably her least favorite day of summer. You’d think that being a bartender on the day that the whole figure eight came to the country club would bring in lots of tips right? Well wrong. During midsummer’s the drinks were complimentary and there was just a tip jar for cash tips. Kooks don’t usually carry around cash, or really tip for that matter. Also seeing all the kooks dressed in their pretty dresses and cute flower crowns made y/n go green with jealousy. She desperately wished she could attend as a guest and get to dress up and enjoy the food. Y/n would be dreading this shift if she didn’t have something to look forward to.
She had looked over herself in the mirror a million times, making sure her dress still looked as good on her as it did in the dressing room mirror yesterday. The tag was securely tucked into her side because she may have run up her credit card to be able to afford it so she had to return it after. Bartenders didn’t have as strict as a uniform as the waiters did. Her manager allowing them to wear black dresses for the night, and of course she was going to jump at the opportunity to wear something nicer than her boxy polo uniform and tennis skirt.
Her makeup and hair had been done to the best of her ability, without it seeming like she was trying too hard. Y/n would never admit to any of her friends or family that she was dressed up in order to impress a certain kook prince. The same kook prince she had spent months crushing on, and he never helped make the crush go away because he would shamelessly flirt with her every time he was at the country club. It was more like banter, she had a feeling he never really meant anything he said. But it felt so good to feel wanted.
When Rafe would see her around the outer banks he would smirk at her or give her a nod as to say hi. At parties sometimes he’d go up to her and make some small conversation. Teasing her about what drink she had or making sure that she didn’t give her number to that guy that was flirting with her. They’d be making conversation and she would take a step towards him wanting nothing more than to be wrapped in his arms and his scent. But then her friends would come and think they were saving her from the kook prince and pull her away, sending a glare Rafe’s way. She’s look back at him apologetically and he’d just give her a tight lipped smile and walk to the other side of the party.
Rafe really liked her, he liked making her laugh and smile. He wished he could make her quit her job and just come live with him, he’d take care of her. She’d never have to worry about bills or rent ever again. His friends always made fun of him for flirting with a pogue but he didn’t care. They’d say he was scraping the bottom of the barrel, that he had already gone through all the girls from figure eight so now he was entertaining a pogue. Rafe never let them get away with their jokes. He’d glare at them and punch them in the arm or kick them in the shin. He’d defend her honor saying she’s different and she’s a better friend than they’ll ever be.
All Rafe could do was think about her while he was getting ready. He knew she’d be there and he wanted to look extra nice. Tonight felt like the night he would actually ask her out. Y/n was a good listener, she was always there for him. At first he thought it was just because she was stuck behind the bar so she had to listen to him, but then he’d see her at parties and she still had that look in her eyes. That look that she was listening to him, actually listening to him. He felt like he was on a cloud with the way she looked at him like he was the most important thing in the world.
When she arrived to the country club she started getting all her things ready, the guests would start arriving in a few minutes. Stocking up on scotch and the best wines, she knew those would be the popular drinks tonight. As she worked diligently her mind wandered to Rafe, like it always did.
She wondered if he’d be the same as always despite his family being here. She wanted nothing more than to spend the night with him, but not while she served him drinks. She wanted to dance with him and drink with him, and then go home together at the end of the night.
Guests had started arriving, her eyes looking out for the dirty blonde. She was so excited and a bit anxious to see him all dressed up, knowing he’d look extra handsome. An hour had passed and she still hadn’t seen him. The country club was now filled with kooks and her tip jar only filled with about $20 when she’s certain she’s made twenty martinis and poured just as many scotch’s.
As she was handing Mrs.Weatherby her glass of merlot smiling at the older woman her eyes caught her favorite blue ones. Rafe stood across the room with Kelce and Topper. He wasn’t paying any attention to what Topper was saying as he watching y/n from across the room. When their eyes met a lopsided smile formed on his lips. Her cheeks felt hot as he looked her up and down, as much as he could despite the bar being in the way.
Y/n begged with her eyes for him to come over, to save her from the boring night. He knew her better than she thought as he started walking over, saying something to the guys that he’d be back. But as he was crossing the room his dad stepped in front of him.
Ward put a hand on his son’s shoulder, “Rafe please, don’t start drinking yet. This is supposed to be a nice night okay? Lets take it slow.” He turned him around to walk out toward the patio.
“Yeah sure dad.” He muttered not wanting to make a scene. He followed him out but looked behind him to catch the eyes of the girl he was infatuated with.
His heart sank a little as he saw her bright eyes dull a little with sadness. She tried her best to put on a smile and not show her disappointment but he knew her better than she thought. Ward had no idea of Rafe’s crush and even if he did he probably wouldn’t care. He’d probably be disappointed in his son for liking someone like her, then he’d tell him that she probably only wants him for his trust.
all of this silence & patience, pining & anticipating, my hands are shaking from holding back from you
The first few hours of the night their eyes just met, hers pleading him to come over and talk to her. Give her something to think about tonight before she went to bed. His eyes begged her to forgive him for not giving her the attention she deserved, especially in that dress. He hoped that she wore it just for him, it made her look ethereal. Rafe’s legs ached from trying to stop himself from walking over and kissing her with everything he had.
As the night went on she was always on his mind. He hated this stupid midsummer’s stuff, mostly because he couldn’t share it with the one person he wanted. It was filled with snobby people and teenager’s getting drunk on booze they had snuck in.
Rafe kept getting stuck in conversations with his dad’s colleagues, Ward wanting him to be more involved in the business. Or he’d be with Topper, Kelce, and some other guys having a meaningless conversation about lacrosse or surfing. Whenever he got the chance he’d look over at her and she’d have a smile on her face handing some old dude a drink. He knew it wasn’t her real smile, then her eyes would look over at him and that’s when her real smile would come out.
“Uh I’m gonna get a drink,” Rafe said trying to excuse himself from his friends. His dad would be fine with him having a drink now, it’s been three hours since the night started. Three hours of his fingers tingling with the want of tucking that hair that kept falling in her face behind her ear.
“I’ll go with you dude. I need a refill,” Topper said holding up his empty glass. Rafe held in the urge to roll his eyes, he wanted to go alone.
y/n was wiping down the bar when they approached. She looked up meeting eyes with her favorite boy, but then she looked over to his left and their Topper was
“What can I get you guys?” She asked looking between them, smiling at Rafe.
“Long island,” Topper said placing his empty glass down.
“Can I get a rum and coke please?” Rafe asked, resting his hands on the bar.
“Of course,” she nodded with a grin.
Rafe watched her as she prepared the drinks. Topper was trying to talk to him about who knows what, he couldn’t care less. He couldn’t pay attention even if he wanted to with that dress she had on. It fit her so perfectly, he wondered what it’d feel like under his hands. What it’d feel like to push it up as he touched the expanse of her thighs. Wondered what it’d feel like to hold her waist as he kissed her. If her skin was as soft as it looked.
“Bro you’re not even listening,” Topped said as he hit Rafe’s shoulder.
“Long island,” Y/n places the drink in front of him.
“You’re right I’m not.” Rafe rolled his eyes.
Topper took his drink without even thanking her, “Whatever dude I’m gonna find Sarah.” Finally Rafe was alone with his girl.
She placed his glass in front of him, “So where have you been all night?”
“Uh my dad didn’t want me to drink earlier,” He shrugged. He knew it was a half assed excuse.
“You don’t need to order a drink to come see me.”
He ran a hand through his hair, “I-I know but my dad thought that I was just coming over for a drink.”
She laughed bitterly not at Rafe but at the whole situation, “When I’m with you I forget I’m a uh pogue.”
“That doesn’t mean anything to me,” He reached out to touch her lightly. She leaned into his touch slightly, yearning to feel anything from him.
Her manager walked in, “Y/n, take your fifteen.” Taking over he place behind the bar, Rafe pulled his hand away from her.
“Uh yeah,” She gave him a tight lipped smile before walking to the back room. Rafe sighed and walked back out to where his friends were.
if I get burned at least we were electrified, I’m spilling wine in the bath tub you kiss my face & we’re both drunk
Y/n stood in the back leaning against the wall. She hated this town. She hated the labels everyone put on each other, it made her life so much harder. It was so easy when she was around Rafe even if it was a few minutes at a time. But then there was always something that reminded her of who she was and where she came from. It was either Ward, her friends, Rafe’s friends, her bosses. Someone always had to remind her where she was and who she was.
She rolled her eyes at herself. She walked into the back, in search of a bottle of wine. She found one she thought she’d like, popping it open and pouring herself a glass. Y/n felt like she deserved it, especially after tonight. The night wasn’t going exactly as planned, so she might as well drink.
After three full glasses of red wine her break was over. It probably wasn’t the smartest idea to drink while on the clock because now everything looked a little fuzzy.
“I’m back,” She slurred to her manager.
Lisa eyed her suspiciously, “Are you drunk?”
“No never,” She gave her a toothy grin trying to hide her tipsiness. The alcohol affecting her more and more as the seconds passed.
Lisa sighed, “Y/n you can’t be like this here right now. You know how bad this would look. If you get one of these jerk offs orders wrong and they smell that merlot on your breath they’ll have you banned.” Lisa tried her best to look out for the girl because she knew she didn’t have anyone that was looking out for her.
Her eyes watered at the thought of losing the only job she had been able to get on this whole island, “I-I can’t lose this job. I need this.”
Lisa sighed, “Go home. I’ll cover for you, and you can still keep the tips okay? Only because I care about you.”
Y/n sniffled bringing the older woman into a hug, “Thank you Lisa, I owe you.”
“Get home safe okay, call someone.” Lisa said rubbing her back. She walked (stumbled a bit) to the back to grab her bag.
even in my worst times you could see the best of me
Y/n didn’t know who to call, her friends were all at parties probably drinking as well. Her parents weren’t in her life. The one person who could help her had been watching her from across the room. Concern written all over his face. She looked at him with teary eyes and he was already taking long strides towards her. She met him halfway, the tag from her dress itching her side.
“Rafe,” Her voice was shaky as she hugged herself looking for some comfort. She knew this was all her fault, she shouldn’t have had that wine. She felt like she was always making mistakes like this.
Rafe’s hands held her face, “What happened? Did someone do something?” He asked with worry and a bit of anger. If one of these kooks made his girl cry they’d have him to deal with.
“No no I did something. I-I drank some wine on my break. I’m drunk Rafe and Lisa told me to go home. She um she said she’ll let me keep the tips today but uh can you take me h-home?” She asked barely taking a breath.
He brushed her hair back, “Hey breathe, I’ll take you home okay baby.”
“I’m sorry Rafe, I-I shouldn’t take you away. I feel so stupid.”
“You’re not stupid. I’m glad I get to get away from this shit, especially if it’s with you.”
Ward had been watching the interaction from outside. He eyed as his son held the bar tender who he felt was trying to hard to look like she fit in with them, her dirty sneakers gave her away. In her defense you can’t really bartend in heels.
He walked over to them before they could leave, “Uh Rafe, what are you doing?” He didn’t spare a glance at the disheveled girl.
Rafe stood up straight, “I’m taking her home dad.”
“Who is this? The bartender? You can’t leave now. There’s still some guys I need to introduce you to.” He treated her like she was nothing.
“No dad I’m taking her home, this is more important.” Rafe wrapped his arm around her shoulders to lead her towards the exit.
Ward grabbed his arm as he tried to walk past him, “Don’t disappoint me son.”
He shrugged his shoulder to get him off, “You’ve made it clear plenty of times that it’s too late for that.”
They didn’t make a big scene but some people had been watching. They watched as the oldest Cameron led the girl outside, a pogue. Tomorrow word would spread all across the island just how cozy they were. Ward would berate Rafe about it but right now he didn’t care, he just wanted to get his girl away from everyone.
Y/n couldn’t believe Rafe had done that for her. He dropped everything for her, she really did feel like he was a prince.
only bought this dress so you could take it off
Rafe kept glancing over at her as he drove to her house. He was worried about her, she looked so sad and he hated seeing her sad. Her head was leaning agains the passenger window just looking out into the darkness.
“Sweetheart what’s wrong?” He finally asked breaking the silence.
She sighed looking over at him, “I feel like an idiot.”
“Why?”
“I put on this stupid dress that I can’t even afford and I got too drunk while I was working. I took you away from the party.” She shook her head at herself.
Rafe pulled into the driveway of her small house, her grandma had left it for her after she passed a few years ago. It was the perfect house for her but now she had to work overtime to keep up with bills.
“Lets talk once we get inside,” Rafe turned the car off and ran over to open her door.
They walked into her house, Rafe had never been there. This is the most time they’ve ever been able to spend alone, without anyone being able to interrupt them or pull them away from each other. He liked her house, it was very her. Warm lighting and pictures everywhere. She sat on the couch setting her bag onto the ground.
“You look amazing, this dress looks amazing on you.” He said as he sat next to her. She leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder.
“I wore this for you. I wanted to impress you, instead I embarrassed myself.” She closed her eyes thinking about the events of the night.
Rafe turned to her, “I would drop everything for you. I have been dying inside to spend this night with you.”
“Really?” She asked looking at him with stars in her eyes.
“Yes, baby. And this dress does look amazing on you. You look perfect. I’ve wanted you since the first day we met at the club.” He tucked her hair behind her ear.
Her face flushed at the compliments, “But why? I’m just me. I don’t have anything, I can’t even afford this dress. I’m just a bartender.”
He shook his head, “None of that shit matters to me. You actually listen to me and you care about me more than my shithead friends ever have. I only go to those stupid parties to see you.”
“Rafe, I care about you so much.”
He couldn’t take it anymore, he leaned forward and captured her lips with his. They were slightly swollen from the few tears she had shed earlier in the night. Her lips tasted like merlot she had downed. They moved in sync as if they had been doing this forever. He smelt like expensive cologne and she wanted to drown in it, she wanted to drown in him. His lips felt so good against hers, she had been dreaming about this moment for ages.
Her hands slid up his chest and into his hair. Pulling at the dirty blonde locks to encourage him. Rafe’s hands slid up and down her waist. Finally feeling the dress he had thought about all night. As the kiss grew more passionate he grabbed her hips and tugged her towards him. He pulled her to sit on his lap, her legs on either side of him. His fingers slowly slid up her thighs pushing her dress farther up, almost fully around her hips. Y/n’s thighs were just as soft as he imagined. His mind was racing with thoughts of everything he wanted to do to her.
The small whines that left her lips encouraged him to keep going. One hand moving behind her to give her ass a squeeze. He pulled away to press kisses against her neck making goosebumps rise on her skin. Her hands moving back and forth from tugging his hair to pulling at his blazer to get him impossibly closer.
“Baby,” He mumbled against her neck. She just hummed in return, too lost in the feeling of his lips on her. Tasting her like she’s always wanted him to.
“I want to keep going, but I know you’ve drank tonight. I want you to be be a hundred percent sober when I do everything I’ve always dreamed about doing to you,” He said looking up at her. He almost regretted his words and took her right then and there when he saw her swollen lips and hazy lust filled eyes.
She took a deep breath to get herself to focus. Her senses were overloaded on Rafe, “Okay, can you stay? Please?”
He leaned forward giving her another kiss, “Of course, I’ll always stay.”
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waywardcrow · 2 months
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I’d do bad things with you.
Summary: The day after the wedding, Bucky and his new wife go to Stark's house to plan their next step because that's why they are married, right? Not because they love each other.
Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Stark!reader.
TW: Really not so many, talks of murder but very lightly, implications of mafia kind of stuff but please remember all I know about this I learned from SoC and fics lol, allutions to death, mention of cheating and sex, lots of angst, curvy!reader, no mention of y/n and reader's nickname is Bells (context coming soon), kind of enemies to lovers but not really enemies, arranged marriage, this will be a +18 story so minors dni.
Disclaimer: English is not my first language, please tell me if I make grammar mistakes.
Part of the Yours to lose series.
All eyes on us <<<
Pictures from pinterest and graphic and dividers by the amazing @ firefly-graphics so all credits to the creators.
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Bucky didn’t dare to say anything when his wife closed the door of the guest room, how could he? His dragă asked for one thing: help to protect her family.
That didn’t mean she owned him something, she was his wife but not his woman, not anymore.
If only he wasn’t so impulsive, if he weren’t so blind to recognize what he had in front on him, they wouldn’t be in this situation, their wedding wouldn’t be an arrangement, he would had ask her to marry him instead of trapping her.
Still, he had hopes, he would never give up in getting her back, and when Bucky finally did it, he would make up for the lost time.
Alone in her room, Bells felt the Barnes’ family ring heavy in her hand, not only for the rose diamond, it was heavy because she didn’t deserve it. She was well aware she only had it because she ended up being a Stark, there was no way this could ever happen to her being the mistress on turn for the Winter Soldier.
And even knowing it, she missed those times.
Everyone that worked in the restaurant knew she was sleeping with him, they also knew it was better for their tongues that she never heard them talk about it, Bucky made an example of the first and only one who tried, a jackass named Julian who liked to make women uncomfortable.
After that, everyone turned a blind eye when Bucky when to the bar and talk to her for hours, when he called her to his office and she used disappeared in there to don't go back to work for the whole shift, they saw them going home at night, both being walking proof of the affair.
Her friends sometimes looked at Bells with concern; especially Kate but no one said a thing.
She would get in the car with Bucky who would try to convince her to stop working so he could spoil her and Bells would gave him the same answer, she only wanted him, not his money.
It was so stupid of her, to believe he could feel the same one day but how could she not think it when he played his part so well? Treating him like she was something delicate, something beautiful, she wanted to believe he could want her, love her.
That was why she spent most of the nights with him during the months her fantasy ran wild, she was even familiar with his men, Steve and Sam adored her, Scott, Thor and Clint were sweet with her, even the stoic Loki smiled sometimes at her jokes.
Bucky made her feel at home, she had free reign in the house except for his office and they found their routine very quickly.
Even in the nights Bucky couldn’t join her right after work, he would find her sometimes eating alone in the kitchen or taking a shower and he would made up to her, he was so tender with Bells, making her feel everything was right, maybe it was because she never had a real home and she craved it that she was so easy to fool.
After taking the dress off her and removing her make-up, the girl curled in bed, refusing to cry again for him.
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“Good morning, dragă, I made breakfast” was the first thing Bucky told his wife in the morning. His wife, he would never get tired of saying it even if it was only in his head.
She looked beyond beautiful, the ivory set of pants and jacket hug her curves and he was loving the cleavage cut he could see from his place in the counter. His wife looked like what she was, a Queen.
“Don’t call me that, James” hearing his name on her lips hurt but he deserved it, at least she didn’t call him by his last name.
Their last name.
“Does my lady prefer any other nickname?” he asked without stop smiling, serving her coffee like he knew she liked it.
“I have a name, stick to it”
Her name was beautiful, both of them, the one her parents gave her and the one he met her with but she was the woman he loved, dragă was really appropiate.
“You used to love when I called you that, I don’t think I should change it if we want this marriage to be believable” he shrugged, knowing well why his wife didn’t like it anymore.
“We made a deal, Barnes” oh, James was gone “you will not make anyone believe this after we deal with our enemies”
She really did believe he would give up on her, which almost made him smile. His dragă still had to learn a few things about him.
“You should eat, Mrs. Barnes, we have to be at your brother’s house in half an hour”
Bucky was the least happy about working with Tony Stark, he supposed they could have been friends in another circumstances but he hurt his sister, if Natasha would ever did the same to Becca, Bucky would never forgive her.
Thor drove them to Stark’s mansion and Bucky hated how at ease his wife was there, that wasn’t her home, not anymore.
Russo and Castle were waiting besides Stark who hugged his wife and kissed her cheeks, taking her away from Bucky, leaving him scowling beside Steve and Sam.
“You look like you drank your weight in alcohol, Billy” she giggled and Bucky’s heartache increased, when was the last time he made her laugh? He couldn’t remember.
“Are you trying to tell me something, topolina?” Russo inquired with an offended look while they walked to Stark’s office.
“Yes, she means you look like shit Bill” Castle answered before his wife could and they all laughed but Russo and Bucky, Sam and Steve were too busy talking with Thor to notice. He watched as they took her inside the house bringing back her sweet personality, all the love she felt for them that made him mad watching the “proof” of her betrayal slapping him in the face once again.
Maybe Hydra staged all that but it was his fault, his own insecurities and ghosts were what made her hate him and he couldn’t see the way out of the mess he created, not when the scars that piece of shit gave her in his murder attempt were visible every time Bucky could see her arms.
“Are you ok Buck?” Sam asked quietly, his gaze following Bucky’s, his dragă was smiling at Pepper and Tony, touching her sister in law’s bump. He might never get that with her and if it wasn’t with her- Bucky knew it now, if it wasn’t her, it was no one.
“I’m fine, let’s go”
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Pierce had endless resources, deals with powerful people, enough money to buy himself a kingdom, lots of people who would kill for him without hesitation but with all that, he had an Aquiles heel.
“We know he feels like he already won the reelection for Mayor but I’m not so sure” Bells projected a picture of a handsome man dark hair. He had a kind smile and even the red sunglasses didn’t disminished his likable aura “Matthew Michael Murdock was born and raised in Hell’s kitchen, he graduated Columbia with honors with his best friend, Franklin Nelson, the current District Attorney and he was a champion of the people as a lawyer in his neighborhood despite he had multiple chances to work for a big firm, all of that changed when his soon to be wife, Karen Page, got in the way of Wilson Fisk”
Billy raised his hand as if he was in a classroom.
“Why does this sound like someone talking about their crush and how this helps us?” next to him, Maria hit him in the head and he yelped “I’m just saying!”
“She has a point, you would know it if you let Bells finish” his sister smiled at her friend “please go on topolina.
“Thanks Maria, you’re right as always” Bells winked at her and Maria blow her a kiss “Murdock it’s going to help us beat Pierce in the legal side and meanwhile dear Karen would help us convince him to let us give his campaign a hand” there was a mischievous grin in her face that Bucky had never seen before and it took everything in Bells to look away from him.
Pepper then cleared her throat and Bells took her seat, everyone looking at the ginger.
“Since Fisk got killed in jail, Miss Page got out of witness protection and Mr. Murdock reinforced his fight against the system from the political side” Bells helped her showing reports of Murdock’s popularity, his good press, all the people that supported him “we are going to destroy Pierce taking everything from him. Natasha and Yelena are working with Wanda and Maria to take more territory from him, Madani and Torres keep going after his most powerful lieutenants just like we talked about the last meeting.”
The map in the screen showed the comparison of the before and after, all the east side of the city that once was Pierce’s now it was all theirs, there were still parts resisting the change, it would have been quicker if the group didn’t tried to make the transition the less bloody as possible.
It wasn’t about power, even if it was what their line of work demanded, it was about revenge.
Pierce took something irreplaceable from each one of them, it would be only fair they’d leave him with nothing.
This time Bucky catched Bells eye and refused to let her go.
If not for Pierce, maybe they still would been together but maybe not, Bells was so afraid to tell him the truth about who she really was when Tony found her and it just added to the impending disaster they were, they would been living a lie, she would have been just the mistress, the toy on turn for someone that didn’t loved her.
Bells had to remind herself she didn’t need Bucky, she couldn’t, not after being the target of his cruelness, she couldn’t wash the memory of him fucking Jenna on his desk after telling Bells he loved her hours before.
She knew the truth now, she couldn’t forgive him, not when Bells’ heart was still aching for Bucky’s betrayal, for his lack of faith in her, for his lack of love towards her.
On the other side, Bucky was proud of her, his dragă was born to rule at his side and he didn’t care if he had to hunt Alexander Pierce himself, he would do anything to do this right.
If the murder of his father taught him something, it was that he wouldn’t fix anything feeling sorry for himself, Bucky had all the chances in the world to make amends and he would pay for every mistake with the blood of their enemies.
Tag list: learisa blackhawkfanatic queerqueenlynn calwitch pono-pura-vida
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Hiya! This took me so long but it was only because I was stressing myself about it, then I decided to do whatever felt right and here we are! Also the nicknames I used here:
dragă: sweetheart.
topolina: little mouse.
Let me know what you think.
Love, Lily.
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