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mixtape-racha · 9 months

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enough for you | poly!ot8 (9th member reader)

dating the members of your band was both a blessing and a curse... especially when you had to hide your changes in behaviour from them

words: 3.21k // warnings: established relationship, poly!skz x reader, reader is put on a diet and workout plan, lack of eating, reader takens caffeine pills, overworking, overexercising, reader passes out, the boys get angry (not at reader)

a/n: i am NOT trying to glorify undereating and/or overworking yourself in ANY way, but if you struggle with food-related topics or suffer from an ED please do not read this fic as i don't want to trigger you in any way // based on this request

you bowed your head with a small - and extremely undeserving - smile as you said your goodbyes to the staff and left your meeting. solo meetings with the staff at jype were always worrying, but this time you wished you had forced one of the boys to come with you.

you had a huge year ahead of you; your comeback being one of the most anticipated of the year on twitter, before your japanese comeback, and then further embarking on a tour. really, you and the boys were enjoying all the free time you had before the workload became overbearing - which none of you could deny it was, despite how much you loved your jobs.

but to then be sat down and given a whole new diet and gym plan? on top of everything else, it was…. hurtful. you were always a little self-conscious of your weight - being the only girl in a group with 8 boys, anything you did or changed stuck out like a sore thumb. but as far as you knew, you were fine. your weight had sat steady since the last comeback, and you were always careful with what you ate and how you worked out.

shaking it off as your manager put a comforting hand on your arm and helped you out of the building to your awaiting car, you assumed that something had changed if the company felt they had to step in. you just hoped the boys hadn’t noticed, and if they had they weren’t talking about it behind your back.

it was a silly thing to worry about, obviously. your boys only ever wanted what was best for you, and you knew that. merely 2 years after your debut, you had all begun understanding each other on a deeper level, and - under chan’s demand - very, very slowly it led to romantic connections establishing between you all. and now here you are, in one of the biggest kpop groups in the world, working and living and thriving with your 8 boyfriends in one harmonious polycule.

during the drive back to the dorm, your manager was kind enough to let you brood in your silence - he understood all too well that you were bombarded with a lot of information to process during the meeting, especially when your small hands started flicking through the folder you were given. a strict meal plan - every meal and snack planned out to the last gram with no room to move. an exact workout guide - how on earth you were going to do this without changbin noticing something was up in the gym, you had no clue. you just prayed that their busy schedules leading up to comeback season were enough for you to keep this from them - the last thing they needed right now was to worry about you too.

when you finally arrived back at the dorm, you were instantly wrapped into a tight hug by a pouting jisung. you giggled softly as he complained about losing mario kart to felix - again - and how he owed jeongin $100 because felix beat seungmin too. he kept mumbling his complaints into your neck as you waddled to the living room, the sight of the maknae line bickering and throwing popcorn at each other being a wholesome and beautiful sight to come home to.

jisung finally released you from his hold, allowing you to squeeze yourself onto the couch between seungmin and jeongin, the latter instantly throwing an arm around your shoulders as seungmin looked over at you, a smile painted on his lips.

“how did the meeting go? we were trying to figure out why they’d call a solo meeting with you, but none of us worked it out.” he asked softly, planting a chaste kiss on your cheek before handing his controller back over to jisung. you weren’t entirely sure how to respond, thinking of an excuse on the spot.

“oh, yeah it went fine. they were just checking what parts of the comeback schedules lined up with my period - after last comeback, they want to try and make that week as easy as possible for me.” you shrugged, knowing the boys wouldn’t ask more questions when it came to that time of the month.

its not like they were disgusted or anything. in fact, they were the most helpful and understanding boyfriends you could ask for. they just never pried, never dug for more information than you seemed comfortable with sharing, and you were grateful for that. especially as you lied. if they asked questions, you were sure you would crumble and tell them the truth. for now, it was just easier to ignore it and join them playing video games.

dinner time that night was your first exceptional challenge. after studying your diet plan in your bedroom, it was suggested that you have a vegetable salad with plain chicken breast and a small portion of sweet potato. it seemed boring and bland, especially with the other meals you were expected to follow. usually, you would follow the boys around the kitchen and see what they were having for dinner - then helping one of them make a larger portion so you could share and eat together. it was so normalized at this point, you’d typically get asked teasingly which member’s meal you’d be planning to hijack that night.

so, of course, when you headed to the kitchen silently and began preparing a completely different meal, a few eyebrows were raised, although thankfully no one asked any questions. they just simply assumed you had a specific craving that night that you wanted to indulge in. truthfully, as much as you wanted to eat your meal in the company of your boyfriends, discussing your days and giggling together, you were deeply embarrassed by the fact the company had put you on your diet plan. so regretfully, you skulked back into your bedroom with your dismal meal and ate in the comfort of your bed with a disney movie playing in the background.

the next morning, you woke yourself up at what felt like the ass-crack of dawn to head down to the company gym. you stuffed everything you’d need for the day into a backpack, silently leaving the door and enjoying the quiet of the early morning during your walk to the company building. the lack of noise and movement in the world was nice, feeling like it had washed away all of your worries almost instantly. every time you saw a stray cat, or a funny street sign, you’d snap a picture to send to your group chat with the boys.

you allowed yourself to send a couple of animal pictures to the chat, assuming the boys would be asleep, and when they woke, wouldn’t notice or question the times that you had sent the pictures. of course, that was a misjudgement on your part, because when the hell did chan ever sleep? as you approached the gym doors, your phone dinged and your heart squeezed at his message.

lying to your boyfriends in any way made you feel sick to your stomach, but deep down you just didn’t want them worrying about you. luckily, your workout went relatively easily - you were quite active and partook in gym activity frequently so it was simply like a higher intensity session for you.

after you had showered and left the gym, you headed down to the company cafeteria for breakfast. your meal plan stated that your breakfast for the day should be a small portion of mandu dumplings and a pineapple and kale smoothie. you savored the food as much as you could with each bite, knowing you wouldn’t be able to get a chance to eat again until the later evening. your schedule was packed, practices upon practices before your evening workout, and as much as you loved your job, you knew wholeheartedly how much the company liked to overwork you leading up to comeback season.

practice seemed to drag that day, your vocal teacher questioning if you were feeling unwell because your energy just seemed completely off during your session together. you shrugged her off, insisting you were just tired, but in reality you were overthinking every single moment of the day. between the lack of food, and ache from overworking yourself in the gym that morning, you just felt exhausted - both physically and mentally.

after you finished all your scheduled plans for the day, you decided to head to the company cafeteria for dinner - it was easier than going home and then heading back out to the gym, in all honesty. you tried your hardest not to finish your allocated meal, thinking if you left food on your plate that you’d feel more accomplished. however, as soon as you got to the gym and began your evening workout, you knew leaving food was a bad idea. nonetheless, you pushed through the achy joints and growling stomach, even beating your current personal best on the stairmaster before you ended your session.

the stress of needing to be a certain weight before your next solo meeting before the comeback had you stressed and pushing yourself harder than you should, so you opted to walk back to the dorms that night rather than calling a car. the next few days were similar - the ache, and fatigue, and sick feeling in the pit of your stomach as you forced yourself into work. staying at the company later, working out at any free time you had, sleeping as soon as you got home without even acknowledging the boys you shared a dorm with. they had slowly started noticing, of course, but it wasn’t until exactly a week after your meeting that things all came to a head.

you had finally noticed in the mirror that morning that you had lost weight - your clothes weren’t fitting how they usually did, and you weren’t even hungry most of the day. the gym had become your best friend, and working out had become so much easier. sure, the fatigue and lightheadedness was slightly concerning, but in your opinion it was worth it to keep your job.

that day, you were scheduled to have a whole-group dance practice in the evening before you all headed home, which the boys were excited for because it meant they could travel home with you for the first time in a week straight. you, on the other hand, were slightly annoyed you couldn’t just sneak off to the gym or make an excuse to stay at the company longer. that day you’d opted to skip breakfast - the idea of eating before a day of work making you nauseous - and instead had chugged an energy drink and some caffeine pills along with your morning vitamins. work was boring, and all day you were itching to just up and head to the gym, or just go on a long walk, but you couldn’t. you were stuck between rooms in the company, and it was honestly stressing you out.

by the time it got to the evening, and you and the boys all met up for dance practice, you were instantly scooped into a hug by hyunjin, giggling as his hair tickled your skin.

“finally! missed you so much, pretty girl. feels like i haven’t seen you for more than 30 seconds lately.” he mumbled against the skin of your neck, the sensation making you shiver.

“don’t be silly, hyun,” you grinned as you pulled away to help him tie his hair into a ponytail. “i’m right here now, not going anywhere.”

practice started pretty quickly after that, considering jisung was running late after vocal lessons, and you quickly realized that not eating that day may not have been your best idea. the haste of your movements had your head spinning more than usual, and you felt like you were tripping over your own feet every two seconds. you couldn’t sworn you were moving in slow motion with everything around you sped up, and no matter how much you tried to shake the feelings off, it wouldn’t leave.

you stepped forward through a wave of your boyfriends, fighting to keep your eyes ahead and complete your center dance for the bridge in the song, but it was to no avail. your heart thudded and you internally cried as you felt your body collapse to the ground, black dots circling your vision and your ears ringing loudly.

the thud your body hit the ground with was sickening to the boys who looked on, minho rushing over to try and catch you since he was the closest. they were fast to carry you to the couch in the corner on the practice room, seungmin practically sprinting out of the room to get you cold water and ice from the cooler in the hallway. of course, they knew you had been acting strange, but they never realized it was something so big or detrimental to your health - both physical and mental.

“she feels lighter… god, how did we not notice she’s lost so much weight?” felix practically wailed, his eyes brimming with tears at the sight of you sickly pale and unconscious in his arms.

“when was the last time someone saw her eat?” changbin quizzed, his frown only growing as jeongin piped up.

“forget that for now, when was the last time she had a drink?”

seungmin had reentered the room by that point, a cup of ice and a separate cup of water in each hand. felix had his hands in your hair, fingers tangled between the locks as he stroked your head soothingly. chan had crouched in front of you, cupping your cheek and softly rubbing the skin with his thumb in an effort to gently wake you up.

when consciousness did finally grace you again, you groaned. your head was pounding and you felt gross, and sticky. you tried to sit up, surprised when felix pulled you back down to lean on him from behind you. it was only then that you looked around and took in the worried faces of your boyfriends and bandmates, instantly flushing red in shame that you disrupted practice.

“i’m so sorry–” was all that managed to escape your lips before seungmin held out the cup of water in front of you, swiftly cutting you off.

“drink. we’ve got ice, too, and jisung has a protein bar in his bag that you’re eating, okay?”

you blanched at his words, sipping the water while carefully trying to decide your next words.

“i appreciate it, but i’m fine. i don’t need to wait, i just need some water and i’ll be fine.”

yeah, that sounded good in your head. not too many details, but enough for them to hopefully drop it - at least, you hoped. but unfortunately, the universe didn’t want to work in your favor that day, as you eyes fell on chan and his worried - but stern - face.

“(y/n)...” he started, and your heart dropped at how exhausted and scared he sounded. “what’s going on? when’s the last time you ate? and don’t lie to me, please.”

you sighed, looking around the room and accepting that the game was up. you just hoped they would understand, and they wouldn’t be mad at you. it was bad enough that disrupted practice, you couldn’t handle your boys being disappointed with you too.

“i…” even just looking around the room at the scared faces of your boyfriends, all ideas of lying slipped away from you. “yesterday lunch time. i had a chicken salad…”

you looked at the floor, too scared to face their disappointed stares as you felt felix’s hand shift from your hair to your shoulder. tears were welling under your eyelids no matter how hard you tried to blink them away, and you knew you couldn’t keep it a secret anymore.

“love,” changbin asked softly for his position on the floor next to chan. “is this why you’ve been going to the gym so much? why are you doing this to yourself?”

you shook your head unable to reply, as you felt chan’s hand on your knee.

“we’re just worried, pretty girl. ther’s no need for you to be doing this to yourself, you know that, right?”

you couldn’t help the way you groaned loudly, all your recent frustration pouring out in that moment. it was like a dam had broken, and you couldn’t stop yourself.

“it’s not me! i don’t want this. it hurts and it sucks. it’s– it’s not me.”

“can you elaborate, angel?” felix asked softly, his breath tickling your ear from his proximity to you.

“it’s…” you sighed, knowing that if you didn’t tell them now, then you never would. “it’s the company. that meeting, last week i– they gave me a diet plan. told me i needed to lose weight before the comeback. i just didn’t want to let anyone down…”

your voice slowly trailed off as you gained the confidence to look up, meeting the distraught expressions of your boyfriends. shock, disgust… anger…. you weren’t sure what scared you more in that moment. really, you tuned out everything that was going on around you, sipping your water in hopes of combatting the thudding in your head.

it was only when jeongin crouched in front of you with his signature smile plastered on his lips that you came back to reality. he hed out his hands to you, helping you stand, as everyone packed their belongings up.

“we’re gonna head home, okay? order in some food and have a movie night, if you want that?”

your eyes leaked again at their concern, the group of you leaving the practice room and headed down to the company lobby. “i’d love that, innie… but where are chan and minho going? aren’t they coming home with us?”

he shook his head as the rest of the members, along with yourself, headed out to the cars waiting for you outside the building.

“they’ll be right home - they’re just going to talk to the staff… make some ‘arrangements’, as channie-hyung worded it.”

you were too tired and mentally exhausted to ask any further questions, allowing the boys to bundle you into the car without a fight. when you finally got back to the dorm, felix and jeongin helped you shower, before you met changbin in the bedroom to help you get dried and dressed for bed.

by the time you got back into the living room, chan and minho had arrived home, but they wouldn’t answer any of your questions - opting to give you the television remote instead as they placed bags of takeout food onto the coffee table.

and thats how you spent the night; curled up on the couch with your favourite boys, enjoying takeout and watching movies. it was perfect, and you couldn’t believe you allowed the words of staff members to take this feeling away from you.

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oh, and you later found out chan and minho had gone into a meeting room all guns blazing, threatening to sue if the company risked your health the way they did ever again. you were never put on another diet plan after that, and used your experience to speak out about the mistreatment of idols due to unobtainable beauty standards. life was good.

taglist: join taglists here @pretty-racha @chubbyanarkiss @taeriffic @mits-vi @chanssmiles @5kayzee @torixx80 @fawnpeaks @bangtanmix73 @savluvsmingi @boi-bi-ahaha @4evrglow @skz-streamer @crybabyychu @demetrisscarf

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louloulemons-posts · 9 months

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I don't know if your requests are open, if not ignore this! But what about Eddie asking reader out at school, but his friends are laughing not so far away so they think it's a joke. They get really upset cause they liked Eddie and it ends up fluffy at the end!

Different Kind Of Chemistry

Eddie X Fem!Reader

Summary : Eddie asks reader out, but it doesn’t go as he planned.

Word Count : 1k

Warnings : Not proofread, 3am writing (again - i’m sorry), toothrotting fluff, minor angst, petnames, miscommunication, stupid teenage boys lmao, minor sad reader, cute mom, supportive hellfire besties.

A/N : Guys we hit 400 followers! Thank you all so much for the love and support it means so much to me, I can never thank you enough 🤍

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You’d always been the quieter type, keeping to a small and close group of friends. You weren’t cruel to others though, always kind. It made you known, but never popular. People liked you it was that simple.

You had your faults, you didn’t actively make friends, they had to come to you. That was your shyness taking over at times. The newest person trying to break through that was Eddie Munson.

Sitting down in your seat, you pull out your textbook and notes. “Hey Sweetheart,” a voice spoke, you looked up to meet a pair of brown eyes. “Hi Eddie, how are you?”

“Great, but how couldn’t I be? I get to sit next to the most beautiful girl for a whole hour!” he grinned, sliding into his own seat next to you. Rolling your eyes you couldn’t speak again as your teacher stood.

“Settle down, we’re doing some recapping on Organic Chemistry today. Chapter 15,” she said to you, turning to the board behind her to write some things.

Flicking open your book and notes, Eddie spoke again, “Hey Sweetheart.” You slid the book in between you, “Need a pen?”

He nodded and took the one from your hand, “You’re really my favourite person ever.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever you say Munson.”

You couldn’t help but feel your cheeks warm.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Swapping some books between your locker, you shut it behind you and headed out of the school. “Sweetheart!” a voice called from behind you.

Pausing in your place, you turned to find Eddie jogging towards you. “Hey,” he said, once he was in front of you. “Hi, what’s up?” you asked.

“Oh … I um, I wanted to ask you something, if you have a minute?” he spoke. You heard some voices from behind him, his Hellfire friends.

“Yeah go for it,” you smiled, trying to focus on him. You could hear his friends whispering and sniggering from across the hall. “I was just wondering if maybe, and feel free to say no, if maybe you’d want to go on a date some time?”

“Go on Eds!” One of the boys spoke from behind him, making the others cackle. Eddie waved his hand as to shush them, but was unable to hide his own smile.

How could they be so mean? This was something you’d imagine Jason Carver and his friends did, not Eddie.

“Why are you being so cruel?” you asked.

“Sweetheart wha-” you didn’t let him finish. “You think it’s funny? To ask girls out? Embarrass them? I thought we were friends,” you scolded him, eyes watering.

“No, no you’ve got the wrong idea,” he tried to explained, but you were gone. Turning around and pushing through the door. “Shit,” he said to himself.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Woah man what happened?” Gareth asked. “I just blew my only chance with her,” Eddie spoke, rubbing his face with his palm.

“What do you mean?” Jeff questioned.

“She thought I was kidding.”

“We didn’t mean to make it come across that way man,” Gareth spoke.

“I know, but she didn’t. God, I messed up.”

Dustin tried to comfort him next, “Don’t worry man, we’ll fix this!”

“How?”

“Romantic gesture?”

“Oh yeah cause all of us have so much romantic knowledge.”

“Hey me and Mike have girlfriends!”

“She’s not like them,” Eddie wined.

“We’ll fix this man, let’s make plan,” Jeff offered, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Lay on your bed you sighed for the millionth time in the past minute. How could he be so cruel to you? What was the point of being your friend? Was it a bet?

You sat up, suddenly furious, were you a bet? How much were you worth? $15? $10? $1? You screamed in frustration.

“Honey! There’s someone here for you!”

“Coming!” You sighed, pushing yourself up off the bed and stomping your way out of your room.

“Have fun,” your mom said winking at you, walking past. You scrunched your brows in confusion, who could be here? Pulling the door open you were surprised who was stood there.

“Hi Sweetheart-“ you grabbed his hand and dragged him away from door. Stopping in front of his van, you inhaled deeply, “I pulled you away from the door because I don’t want my mom to see me mad.”

You inhaled again and then snapped, “What are you doing here? Embarrassing me in front of your friends isn’t enough?”

“Hey, first of all I’m sorry okay, but I’d love to explain if you’d let me.”

You hummed, nodding your head stiffly. “These are for you,” he said, handing you a bouquet. “Tulips,” you said softly.

“You said about them being your favourites, since you went to Amsterdam.” It’d been a passing comment, your Chem teacher had had a bouquet on her desk.

“You remembered?”

“I remember a lot of things you say. Anyways, I’m really sorry about my friends they were just teasing me. They didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“Right.”

“They know how much I like you and have not let me live down how much I’ve been pining over you.”

“I see.”

“Yeah, they walk me to Chem when they can, just so they can tease me from the door.”

“Oh,” you said gently.

“I’m really sorry we embarrassed you, we’re idiots. But I really hope I haven’t messed up completely, Sweetheart would you maybe considering going out on a date with me?”

“I’d love to.”

“I get if you don’t want to- What?”

“I’d really love to go on a date with you Eddie.”

He couldn’t contain his grin, which you matched. “Cool,” he said.

“Cool.”

“Well um … I’ll call you about it.”

“Great,” you said, standing on your tiptoes, pressing your lips to his cheek.

“Goodnight Eddie.”

“N-night Sweetheart.” You walked up your path and to the door, turning round you waved to him. He raised his own hand, seeming a bit stunned.

“So, he’s cute,” your mom said.

“Mom! Were you snooping?”

“Me? No! Pretty flowers honey,” she kissed your forehead and walked away smiling.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

A/N : Thank you for requesting! I hope you enjoyed it 🤍

Also I had another request and have had to leave it, I don’t really feel qualified to write about topics (eg SA) as I don’t feel like I have enough understanding and experience with it to write about it in a sensitive and proper way.

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍

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jellybeanium124 · 9 months

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I love how like, every major character in ofmd is min-maxed. like they each have 1 or a couple of things they're really fucking good at and then outside of that they are very bad at most things. there's stede and his sky high confidence and willingness to learn vs. his naiveté and ineptitude and -8 self-esteem. ed's great at being a pirate and coming up with clever schemes but as soon as plan A fails he resigns himself to death. frenchie can plot and scheme and code switch but also can't use a hammer. jim has their knives and zero emotional intelligence. izzy has his sword and zero creativity or leadership skills or anything else really. pete can whittle and that's literally it. lucius can read and write and play therapist and it's only because reading and writing were in high demand for stede that he landed a job in the world of piracy. roach... ok roach can cook and sort of be a surgeon which is pretty damn impressive honestly. wee john can sew. buttons is also a bit of an outlier since he's an all-around talented pirate. the swede... bless him but so far he's got nothing. ok like yeah maybe not all of them are perfectly min-maxed but a lot of them are and I love it. cringefail only good at 1 thing loser representation

EDIT: I know the swede can sing I'm sorry 😭😭😭😭 I'm so sorry I forgot your beautiful voice babygirl please you can stop yelling at me about this now I know and I'm sorry 😭

#ofmd #our flag means death

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augustghosts · 2 years

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Okay so people always talk about Eddie’s necklace swinging in your face while you’re fucking but like… what if it was the other way around? (sucky 300 word blurb that I wrote at 3am below the cut)

“That’s it baby.” He mumbles, his hands on her hips, helping her movements. His eyes focused on her face, until she leans down. One arm resting beside his head, his eyes go straight to her chest, her perfect tits now closer to his face. The chain around her neck swings forward, landing perfectly between her breasts. It makes his stomach stir and his cock twitch. He watches it swing, almost craving the metallic taste on his tounge. He practically whines underneath her, the change of his tone capturing her attention.

“What?” She giggles breathlessly- watching his face contort.

“I- oh fuck.” He groans, his hands squeezing her hips - an attempt to slow her down. “Give me a second, baby.”

He’s trying to take a deep breath, his head tilting up towards the ceiling. Trying to slow down his impending orgasm, his cock twitching inside of her. The feeling of her warm, wet walls not helping his situation.

“What’s wrong?” She asks.

“Nothing! Nothing, it's just your - shit.” He cuts himself off when he looks towards her chest again. Her dainty necklace, which he loved to see around her neck, now hanging down in between her breasts. Hanging just inches from his face.

“My what?” She follows his eyes to her chest, getting impatient. The feeling of his cock throbbing and filling her up started to get overwhelming. “My tits? That’s what’s got you ready to come already?”

“Don’t laugh at me.” He whine’s breathlessly, a groan leaving his lips when she starts to move again. The necklace starts to swing in time with her boobs. The jewellery almost brushing his lips. Fuck, he never would have thought she could get hotter. She was already the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Her tits were already his favourite things in the world.

“Shit, baby, I'm serious. I’m gonna come.” He whines and tries to look away again. Her fingers come down to grasp his jaw, tilting his head down and forcing him to look at her chest. His abdomen squeezes. His hands do the same, a bruising hold on her soft skin.

“I want you to come, Ed’s.” She moans. “Look at them and come for me, baby.”

“Oh my god. Oh fuck- shitshitshit.” He rambles as he spills inside of her. One of her favourite things about him, how vocal he can be. She isn’t far behind, watching as he writhes beneath her. Her breasts still bouncing as she finishes herself off. It was her turn to whine helplessly when he leaned up to take the necklace into his mouth, sucking it between his swollen lips.

#THIS SUUUUUUUCKS LMAOOOO #but don’t think about my writing #think about the concept #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader

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piratecaptainscaptainpirates · 3 months

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One of the things I most mourn about not getting a s3 is a conclusion to Lucius and Ed's relationship. There is such an interesting and profound disconnect with Lucius' anger towards Ed and I wish so badly to see where they would've taken it.

Pushing Lucius overboard was, by far, the worst thing Ed ever did during his Kraken era. No contest. Lucius was the crew member who had gotten to know him best, and reached out to him with nothing other than support and sympathy. Ed pushing him was the cruellest thing he ever did, and while we can assume that Ed did that because Lucius was the only person who might see through his Blackbeard act, that's a pretty shitty excuse for hurting someone so badly.

And Lucius doesn't know what the fuck he did to make Ed do that to him, of course. All he can assume is that "Stede broke him" (which isn't even close to true). I'm so struck by his drawings of Ed in s2e5, because saying there's a disconnect between the anger and Ed is honestly an understatement. He draws Ed as he knew him best, with the beard, and the drawings are beautiful and soft and flattering. Even though the Ed that pushed him overboard was beardless, I think remembering that Ed is still too hard to hold true anger towards because Lucius remembers him vulnerable and hurting and crying and human. Lucius called him "Ed" before he was pushed overboard; in s2 he only calls him "Blackbeard," in a tone that makes it very clear he means it as an insult. He is clearly struggling to reconcile the man who hurt him so badly and needlessly with the friend he had.

Both Ed and Lucius are left unsatisfied with their attempts to get closure. Pushing Ed overboard gives Lucius momentary satisfaction but not much else, and later he tries to get Izzy on his side to chop Ed's leg off - he doesn't just want Ed to make amends, a part of him wants him to suffer, and that's so incredibly striking coming from this character. His closure comes from turning to love instead and focusing towards the future he can have with Pete. Ed is happy to let Lucius push him, but he's clearly unsure what else he can do. It feels like they're left on an unfinished note because it is unfinished.

Ed and Stede being so joyful at Lucius and Pete's wedding was a healing moment, but I wanted to see them talk it through.

#ofmd #our flag means death

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dragonlands · 7 months

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There's so much negativity around Izzy's death so I wanted to address some of the points I keep seeing thrown around.

"Izzy's death was pointless"

No, he just had his big speech about how basically they can kill him but they cannot kill the movement. That is a clear paraller to a lot of real life protestors of unjustice. He died protecting the community, he died so the community could go on.

"Izzy's death made his healing pointless"

No it didn't. Healing is always good, feeling happiness and belonging are ALWAYS worth it. We never know how long we've got, doesn't mean we gotta stop trying to be better or happier. His healing was still real. It still mattered.

"Izzy's character arc was left unfinished, it's bad writing"

Oh my god. If you open any writing guide about how to write impactful deaths, and the first thing that comes up is to leave some part of their arc unfinished. And his arc did go through quite a beautiful line, sure there could've been more but his story didn't end like, mid arc. As a writer, of course you want to make the audience sad when a character dies. It's good storytelling. Good stories are supposed to make us feel.

"Izzy died on the arms of his abuser"

Where the hell did this idea come from? Ed and Izzy have been in a toxic codependent relationship way before this show started. You could argue that Izzy was Ed's abuser, but that is not the argument I want to make here. Yes, we saw Ed driven to madness shoot Izzy on screen, but we know Izzy's the one that forced him to be Blackbeart when he didn't want it anymore. There's turmoil all around them. But the final moment is them finally meeting as people, not as components of Blackbeard.

"Izzy's death was unnecessarily awful"

His death was sad, yes, but it was quite beautiful as far as deaths go. He was surrounded by family who cared for him. He was loved, and accepted as he is. He knew his legacy will be carried on.

"They killed off the only character that showed us healing is never too late"

Did we watch the same show? That begins with then unhappy 40+ year old Stede deciding it's finally time to reach for his dreams? Where we see Blackbeard slowly gaining back his humanity? Where Black Pete starts off as toxically masculine dude but ends up in a soft gay marriage? Where most of the crew wanted to mutiny but then they realized being soft is good, actually. Jim's whole purpose in life being revenge but them learning to let that go and instead concentrate on love and fun and family. And so on. Izzy's arc is beautiful, but he's not the only person healing who thought it was too late already.

"Izzy's death was bury your gays trope"

No, what, no. In a pirate show where everyobody is queer some queer people will die. Bury your gays is about only having one or few queer characters and killing them off while the straights get their happily ever afters. This is so far from that.

Also, I want people to be aware of the phenomenon, where creators of diverse shows are subjected to more critism than those of non diverse shows. If this intrests you, Sarah Z on Youtube made a great video on it called Double standards and diverse media. Our flag means death has given us so much, queer love story with a happily ever after, finding community, nonbinary character. And the creators have always been so kind to fans, so let's show them tht kindness back. Because critizicing this one aspect can easily turn to seeming like the whole story is just unwanted. That stories like Ed and Stede's aren't worth telling. And I'm so aftraid that will happen, when just now for the first time in years we are finally getting queer stories.

Also, I understand people are sad. I am sad too - Izzy was an amazing character and his death was sad but that's just. Good writing. You can grieve, but trying to turn it into a moral or dramaturgy issue is just not a good look. And attacking the creators of this wonderful show is just horrible.

Remember - this fandom is a safe space ship 🏴‍☠️🏳️‍🌈

#ofmd s2 #ofmd season 2 #ofmd #ofmd spoilers #izzy hands #our flag means death #ofmd meta #ofmd izzy #blackbonnet #gentlebeard

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amuseoffyre · 8 months

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"A weak-hearted, soft-handed, lily-livered little rich boy"

The framing and angle on Stede in this shot from 2x07 absolutely reminded me of this scene with his father from 1x01.

It's also the only occasion I can think of where the camera work makes Izzy look taller than Stede. In almost every other scene they're in together, Stede's presence looms over Izzy, but here? Now? When Stede is at his most vulnerable? Izzy towers over him.

As far as Stede knows, he's done everything right according to his father's cruel and narrow view of the world, but it's driven away the man he loves and now, he's trying to convince himself that he has surrounded himself with "real" friends, who "like me for me".

To add insult to injury, he thought he had elevated himself in the pirate community, but then Izzy - an older man - steps into the space and dismisses the people around him with barely a word. Stede's authority, acceptance and sense of control is sliced out from under him.

"You like me for me" counts for nothing. He is nothing. Everything can be taken away from him so easily. He looks small and lost and child-like, looking up at Izzy and immediately expecting the same kind of derision and cruelty he has received in the past in the form of a victory lap. He even tries to get ahead of it, lashing out with passive aggression before Izzy can hurt him.

In S1, Izzy would absolutely have taken pleasure in it, but this is the Izzy who has been through the meatgrinder of the Kraken. He has faced the worst, lost parts of himself and found parts of himself he didn't even know existed. He's been the one left behind and he's grown and changed.

Instead of taking an easy shot, he is frank and honest about what he sees in them. It's a kindness and a reassurance when Stede is bristling and brittle and chafing to lash out. He reminds Stede it's not all about him - "[Ed]'s a complicated man". Izzy comforts him, in his way, and this is coming from the man who does have the authority, respect and credibility in the world of pirates.

As the scene continues, Izzy brings himself to Stede's level, sitting next to him, reframing them as equals, which is a lovely touch. They're not overpowering each other anymore. They're not jostling for authority. They're side-by-side.

The difference between the way Stede's father treated him as a child and the way Izzy is now treating him as a man is so beautiful to me. Izzy is from the most brutal and violent of worlds, but is showing compassion, while Stede's father was part of the so-called "civilised" world and only ever chose cruelty.

It's a quiet and subtle way to show Stede that his father's ideals aren't the only way.

#ofmd s2 #ofmd meta #izzy hands #stede bonnet

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sunflowersteves · 2 years

Note

listen. i know everyone thinks eddie gets bitches left and right (and maybe he does) but i still love the idea of him being kind of easily skiddish/flustered when someone he really really likes starts coming onto him, dont even get me started on if theyre actually gonna get it on

STOP BC I LOVE THIS!! sin saturday <3

warnings || smut!!, shy!eddie, virgin!eddie, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, 18+ only

“C-Can I?”

It seems such an innocent question, but everything about the situation was far from it. Eddie had you propped up on a coffee stained pillow and dirty band practice blanket on the floor of his van.

The air smelled of cigarettes and weed—the pungent smell flowing through and sticking to your clothes that were long gone on the floor.

His brown eyes looked at you so lovingly—so passionately as if the burning question that left off of his lips was making him go stir crazy.

And he was, because of you. You were on the floor of his van—body glistening beneath the rays of the moon. You looked so ethereal as his hands dug onto the surface of your hips.

“Yeah, Eds, please.” It was the begging that made him twitch. The begging—the please—that made him devour each and every sense of you.

He couldn’t help but kiss you so soft and feverishly as his teeth and tongue clashed against you. He whimpered against your lips at your sly hands unbuckling his jeans. “Shit—you’re so beautiful.”

And oh, you were. You were so beautiful that he’s sure he wanted this moment tattooed under his eyelids. He moaned when your hands gently caress his member—the thick veins and public hair rubbing against your wrist.

“W-wait—stop, I—I wanna be inside you, baby—please—” He chokes on nothing as your thumb swiped the tip of his cock. You smile, though, watching his shy movements and skittish smile.

You let him line himself up to you, his own eyes watching his cock split you open so slowly. You’re gripping his forearms right—nails digging into the surface of his skin. “Eddie, baby—shit—”

He was big. Really big. And yet, he didn’t even know. Nothing and no one to ever compare or share things to. He didn’t know that you weren’t sure he could even fit, definitely not until your moans continue to fill the van walls.

“Eddie, f-fuck, your cock, it’s so big, oh, eddie—” you’re cut off short by the thrust he gives. It was slow and easy, yet astonishing he hasn’t cum yet. Your wet, sticky walls are painted into his memory. Your slick that runs down to his balls will be cherished to no end.

“F-fuck, you’re grippin’ me, sweetheart. I-I-look at you. Fuckin’ beautiful with my cock inside you, yeah?”

He starts to understand a rhythm, his hips grinding straight into your pussy. His head never could choose where to look—your blissed face or your fucked out hole.

“Sweetheart, you feel so fuckin’ good, so good. You-you—”

You gasp as you feel the thick ropes of his salty cum fill you up to the brim. He came fast and hard—moaning your name as if it was the only thing he could ever think about.

Shit, he didn’t mean to cum so early. He didn’t mean to cum until you’ve at least cum once. But, he couldn’t help himself. All he wanted was to feel you over and over and over again.

His cum still seemed endless though—your gummy walls puncturing everything inside of him. “Yeah, Eds, baby, cum in me. Yeah, that’s it, baby. S-shit you feel so good—”

He looks at you with a frown, though, still breathless from his ecstasy. “You didn’t cum.”

He wanted you to cum, to let yourself seek pleasure. He wanted his cock to rut into you until you’re both fucked out. He wanted you to cum on his cock so many times, he’s lost count.

Eddie Munson, the freak and the virgin that didn’t get any action, wanted to practically live in your pussy.

He lets the statement sit in the air, and you were truly not bothered by it much. Most guys didn’t let you cum, anyway. And for Eddie? For Eddie, you’d do anything in the world to make sure he’s happy.

“No, but that’s okay. I can—” Your mouth clamps shut at Eddie spreading your legs apart—rings cold against your skin.

“Is it okay? Can I eat you out? F-fuck, I can see my cum dripping—please—I need to lick it, please, baby—please—”

“Yes, Eds, baby, please, wanna see you eat my pussy.”

Eddie may have been spent for about an hour, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to devour you for the rest of the night.

#sin saturday༊*·˚#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #smut #virgin!eddie munson x reader #virgin!eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction

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pariahsparadise · 1 year

Text

ye of little faith | e. p.

nav. | m.list

summary: eustace doesn't believe that edmund has a girlfriend.

wc: 800

pairings: edmund pevensie x fem!reader

warnings: VERY unedited. also it's 1am and i just wrote this in a burst of inspiration, so please don't expect it to be good.

a/n: i don't really know if this will make sense to anyone lol, i think i wrote it in a confusing way, but hopefully it's okay. it's mostly eustace's pov, i wanted to try something new. also, this exact scenario has been in my head for months now.

“There’s no way he has a girlfriend,” Eustace tells Lucy, barging into the room. She immediately knows who he’s talking about, able to hear Edmund on the phone downstairs, voice softer than it usually is, taking the tone he automatically opts for when he speaks to Y/N.

“Why?” Lucy asks, half-heartedly entertaining her annoying cousin while she thumbs through the pages of her book. Unfortunately for her, Eustace Scrubb brightens at the attention, straightening up and launching into a rather well-thought out spiel.

“First of all, it’s Edmund we’re talking about. He’s awkward, way too hostile and bad-tempered. Not to mention, he’s barely of average height, and his hair? Absolutely ridiculous.”

“Y/N likes it,” Lucy says mildly, earning a scoff from Eustace.

“Y/N.” he says with disbelieving scorn, “As if she actually exists. You expect me to believe that a woman as beautiful and intelligent as you lot claim she is would actually be interested in Edmund? And so interested that she calls and writes to him multiple times a week? Yeah, right. I bet that Ed’s hired an escort to help him forget about how lonely he actually is. Or he’s paying some poor girl to play the part of a caring partner.” Eustace has had many such theories, the more creative ones dealing with blackmail and holding family members hostage, but so far, monetary imbursements seem to be the most likely.

“Sure, Eustace,” Lucy mumbles, having checked out of the conversation a while ago. He shakes his head at her disinterest, convinced that he is right, and leaves the room, muttering to himself disbelievingly.

A few days later, a painting gushes out water and swallows them whole, so poor Eustace, although having taunted his cousins with his skepticisms about the magical land of Narnia and called them fools for believing in the same, is forced to confront that he was wrong.

Eustace is soaking wet and miserable, still slightly panic infused. He can’t believe his eyes, convinced that he hallucinated the last fifteen minutes. Sitting on the ship, the Dawn Treader, he watches as his cousins are recognised as King and Queen. He’s related to royalty.

With a humorous snort, he realises that this is more believable than Edmund Pevensie having a girlfriend.

Hell, even the talking rat next to him is more believable.

He goes to voice the same, but is distracted by a joyous whoop descending from the sky, followed by a splash in the ocean. Eustace is too busy trying to catch a glimpse of the figure underwater to notice the hopeful glances Edmund and Lucy exchange, the faint tremour in Edmund’s hands as he snatches a telescope from a passing crew member, getting a clearer view.

“It is her!” Ed cries, only barely held back from jumping overboard by Caspian, who laughs fondly at the Just King. Eustace tries to hear what the Prince tells Edmund, but all noise turns to mush the second he sees the young woman surface, a brilliant smile on her face.

At first glance, he thinks it’s a siren. He’s heard stories about their enchanting beauty and ethereal forms, and Eustace does genuinely believe that this woman is too gorgeous to be human like he is. As she swims closer, though, and the ship's crew help pull her onto the ship, Eustace notices the lack of a tail. And though her hair is soaked and strewn across her face, and her clothes suction themselves to her skin, none of it takes away from her radiance.

It also doesn’t distract him from the fact that she’s walking right towards him.

Eustace’s mouth goes bone dry, and he gulps nervously, afraid she’ll talk to him and afraid she won’t, when suddenly, Edmund swoops past him and towards the woman. He snatches her up in a passionate embrace, hands securing her to him as he twirls her around in sheer delight.

When they kiss, chaste but heady, Eustace decides that he has never actually known anything about anything.

He’s scouring the sky for flying pigs when he hears Edmund’s self-satisfied voice behind him, “And this, my very real girlfriend, Y/N, would be my cousin, Eustace Scrubb.”

“How do you do?” Eustace says weakly, extending a hand, trying his hardest not to faint when you take it.

“Pretty well. If only Edmund would- what was it again?- stop holding my family hostage, I think I’d be great,” you rib amiably, throwing back one of Eustace’s earliest theories back into his now scarlet face.

“No, darling, you’ve got it wrong, I’ve currently got your dogs kidnapped and ready to be shipped to the pound, remember?” Edmund joins in on the fun, his smile widening as he earns a couple of chuckles from you, and a darker flush from Eustace’s cheeks.

Eustace Scrubb, though unwilling, is forced to admit, after watching the two of you interact, gravitating towards each other naturally, at ease with the love that surrounds you, his cousin’s eyes brighter than he’s ever seen them, that it is very believable for Edmund Pevensie to be dating Y/N L/N after all.

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cursed-coat-of-homosexuality · 9 months

Text

Listen, I know we're all talking about the beautiful editing in this scene right now. However, and that might be just a guess, I think Ed is killing someone here.

First off, look at the background. They aren't fighting anymore. This isn't an action packed raid scene where everybody is fighting against one another amidst the chaos of bloodshed. It's quiet, normal even. The fighting is over, and everyone is either checking their newly acquired loot or looking at Ed, who seems to be at the center of ship. Now see where the gun is pointed - it's down,

almost as if he is shooting someone who's kneeling.

That's not a warning shot and neither is it a fight, that's an execution. Ed is killing again (by his definition of killing I mean)

And I DEFINITELY am not implying that he has become super violent and angry or something like that (which I think is a very stupid, racist take and not in line with his previous characterization at all, but that's a whole other post), tbh I think it's exactly the opposite. He isn't angry at all, that's what's worrying me. There is a stone cold dead calm in him. I think he has given up.

That is, by letting go of one of his core principles (not killing), and therefore becoming the Kraken - he is personafying himself as his father's killer, trying to become the monster other people and himself believe him to be. I mean, LOOK AT HIS CLOTHES!!

He is wearing nine guns and is very much looking like a vampire clown. He's dressing up as a caricature of himself. He is doing all of that because - deep down - he thinks that's why Stede left him. Because when he finally laid his soul bare in front of him, Stede rejected him (so that surely must mean that he saw something he did not like in there). To Ed, Stede finally "sees him now" as the monster he really is. A monster who isn't deserving of fine things, or luxuries such as not killing. So when he becomes the Kraken, after Izzy does That Whole Thing, he gives up trying to fight for them.

Thing is, the Kraken is not really killing other people, at least narratively speaking (sorry Lucius). Killing is a tool he is using to let go of the part of him that longs for Stede, love and all the fine things that he can't have - and the part of him that is just so, so hurt by not having them. The Kraken isn't killing others, it's killing Ed.

So it's no wonder that we see him kill at a wedding of all places. It's the embodyiment of everything he has ever wanted and lost so far. Extravagant dresses, good food, fancy stuff and, most of all - love.

#did this after watching the teaser on a loop eight times (as one does)#can you tell I'm not normal about him???#ofmd #ofmd meta #our flag means death #ofmd s2 #our flag means death meta #edward teach ofmd #The kraken ofmd #blackbeard ofmd #ofmd teaser #ofmd teaser meta #edward teach meta

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eimids · 6 months

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I am beautiful

Lucy Bronze x reader

Can I please request for smut where reader is really insecure about how they look because they’ve gained weight after Ed recovery and they don’t feel good enough for Lucy but Lucy shows reader how much she loves her. Thank you xx

That was the request

I might have made this based on my own experience :D

Warnings: smut, soft smut, so soft!!, but also a bit angst, bad body image and talk about ed (in the past) but everything is good at the end!! so soft smut and soft Lucy <3

Lucy was kissing your neck and tenderly holding your jaw. It was pleasure itself but you wanted more. You wanted Lucia to destroy you, eat you and fuck you till you couldn't move.

After the dinner with some of Lucy's teammates, where Lucy was teasing you the whole time, you finally got back to your apartment. The innocent kisses turned to needier and more passionate. You loved her soft lips on your body, devouring you.

Lucy's hands traveled down to the zipper of your dress. She easily slid the zipper down and stripped you of the stress. She admired her view. You almost naked body facing her. It was the most beautiful sight Lucy had ever seen. Every time she saw you like that she fell in love with you even more.

For you thought it was different. You were feeling bloated after the dinner and just overall uncomfortable in your own skin. You hated how bare you were and the eyes that were studying your whole body. It was weird having a bigger body than you were used to. Now you had an healthy body that didn't collapse after a bit of jogging. A body that was strong enough to finally not make you lose your hair and gave you your period back.

You loved being in recovery. You loved having control of your eating again. Now you could eat much more freely but it was hard. Every pound you gained and the new skin around your stomach was hard to accept. Lucy helped you always. Being there through the recovery process and always making sure you treated your body with the respect it deserved.

Lucy noticed your sudden hesitation. She noticed the way your body got tense. You even went as far as covered your stomach.

"hey, hey, hey what's going on?" Lucy asked. She was clearly worried that she did something wrong.

"I- just umm I don't feel so good" You lied. You didn't want to worry Lucia.

"Are you sure?" Lucy asked knowingly.

"I just- I don't feel good in my body. I fell bloated and too big. I look ugly and I just hate my body right now. I just- umm" You started but Lucy shut you up by kissing you.

"You don't talk like that about my beautiful girlfriend" Lucy stated.

"You, my love, are beautiful, kind, loving, gorgeous, amazing, and some many more things. But ugly and big aren't words that describe you. You are just perfect" Lucy said and kissed you between every word.

You loved how Lucy didn't care what your body looked like. You always thought that you weren't good enough for her because she was an athlete and in perfect fit. But that was far from the truth. Lucy adored you in every way possible.

"I want t worship your body. I want to show you just how beautiful you are if that's okay with you?" Lucy asked.

"Please" You murmured.

"Go lay on the bed" Lucy commanded. You obeyed her and went to lay down. You got comfortable on the bed, laying on the soft cushion. You looked at Lucy who was moving things around in the room. She had the mirror moved to closer to the bed so you had a good view on it from the bed. Lucy then went to grab a vibrator. You were exited for tonight.

"So pretty for me laying there. Such a good girl for be, so beautiful" You heard the voice of Lucy's it brought you back to the moment.

She straddled you and caressed your body at the same time. Her hands were touching every part of your body, lips founding their way to the tender skin of your neck and then your lips. Your mouth left an involuntary moan as she sucked your neck. A bit embarrassed about it but you kept going. Lucy's tongue left a stray of saliva in the valley of your boobs as she made her way to your lips.

"Mhmm, so good for me princess" She said between kissing you.

She turned around and made her way behind you. Now she was sitting and your back was laying on her chest.

"Look at yourself in the mirror" Now you understood the mirror placement. You did look at yourself. You saw a body that you almost didn't recognize but Lucy loved it. Your eyes didn't stay long in the mirror before you closed them, not wanting to see.

"Keep your eyes on the mirror baby, I'm gonna make you feel good if you keep looking at yourself" Lucy said. You needed the pleasure so you opened your eyes.

Lucy brought her fingers to your wet folds. Swirling them around and gathering the wetness. It wasn't what you needed but still brought you pleasure. When Lucy brought her fingers to your clit, you moaned. The pleasure of the sensitive bud was amazing. Lucy was also kissing your neck.

You closed your eyes in the pleasure and as soon as you did it, the movement stopped. "I told you, you gotta keep your eyes on yourself" Lucy said with a hoarse voice. You opened your eyes immediately.

This time Lucy brought the vibrator to your clit. She put it into the lowest setting, not enough to make you come, but enough to make you see stars.

"Oh Lucy, you make me feel so good baby" You moaned and with that Lucy put the vibrator a notch higher. Your body jumped with surprise but your moans kept coming. Soon enough Lucy's fingers found you wet pussy and pushed themselves in. It was once again an amazing feeling.

"You don't come until you tell me how beautiful, I need you to tell me that you know how gorgeous you are." Lucy said as you were getting closer to your orgasm.

"Lucy please let me come" You begged. You just wanted to feel your orgasm rush through you.

"Nope, I haven't heard the words 'I am beautiful' from your mouth yet princess" Lucy just said and kept her pace.

"Mhmm, I'm beautiful Lucy, please can I cum baby" You pleaded again.

"Say it like you mean it, look at yourself in the mirror and say the words" Lucy repeated herself.

You looked at yourself. You looked the body that was bringing you all this pleasure. Half a year ago you didn't have the energy for this kind of activities. You looked at the body that was now healthy and it looked beautiful.

"I'm beautiful Lucy, I'm so fucking beautiful" You cried as your orgasm took over you.

The pleasure waves came crashing over you and it felt never ending. It was blinding and you loved every second of it. You loved how your wife was making you feel, how well she knew your body.

"So so pretty for me princess, I love you so much and you've come so far in your recovery" Lucy praised you.

"Mhmm thank you Lucy" You moaned as the orgasm was over.

"You are so good for me baby, you are so pretty and I hope you know that. Your body is strong and so is your mind. I'm so proud of you" Lucy kept praising you.

She was all you needed in your life.

---

Kinda love this

#woso community #wlw post #woso fanfics #woso x reader #lucy bronze #lucy bronze imagine #smut #lucy bronze x reader

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skitskatdacat63 · 6 months

Text

Fernando Alonso & His Relationship With Cards

I'm sure we're all familar with the cards on the back of Fernando's Vegas GP helmet by now, but did you know his relationship with cards goes a lot deeper?

I. Magic Tricks

You've probably seen or heard someone at least mention Fernando's propensity for card tricks. As far as I can tell he was doing them(publically) as far back as 2003 all the way to as recently as 2018. Even once performing a card trick, with a condom and a teddy bear(!??!?!??!!), in front of Valentino Rossi who said "How was that possible?"(x)

But how did this start? According to James Allen, "Fernando admits to having been heavily influenced by his grandfather, a mercurial figure, who taught him magic and card tricks, still one of his passions away from the race track."(x) And I'm not sure the validity of this one, because I couldn't find an actual source, but apparently he once said: "My parents are responsible for the two things I like doing most - driving and magic tricks. They bought me my first go-kart and a magician's kit."

In several interviews he described it as his hobby off track, and that he loved learning new tricks and surprising others in the garage with them! So clearly cards are pretty important to him both as a hobby but also to who he is as a person since they've been with him just as long as racing has.

II. Card Symbolism in His Helmets

This is the reason I originally made this post, but I thought I should also explain the origins of his card fascination first. As I said, we probably all remember the cards on the back of his helmet in Vegas, but did you know that wasn't the first time he had cards on the back of his helmet?

From 2008-2013, he used to have a pair of cards on the back of his helmets. The symbolisms of the cards themselves as well as the evolution of their design is really fascinating to me! Even more so with the recent development of the card choice in 2023.

Fernando said he wanted to reference his two titles in some way on the back of his helmet and after his friend sent him several ideas, he decided on having two cards(an ace of clubs and an ace of hearts, sometimes pictured with 05 and 06 on them as well), saying: "I picked the cloverleaf [the ace of clubs - Ed] to give me luck, but the only pity is that it doesn't have four leaves!"(X)

2008.

Here's the very first appearance of the cards! They're displayed flat, with the 05 and 06 clearly visible

2009.

Very similar to 2008, but with a slightly different design, and they're maybe a bit more straight with less shadow?

2010.

This is the first major change! I was sad they didn't have the years on them anymore, but then I realized they're sparkly to match with his signature lightning bolts on the top of the helmet!!

2011.

Honestly I'm still somewhat unsure if this is the actual 2011 helmet? It's pretty difficult to find clear photos of the back of helmets from older seasons. It's easiest to find them on replica sites or auction sites so I'm not 100%? But anyways, I like that this has the championship years on the underside of the cards

2012.

This is when I started getting weirdly emotional about the helmets. Do you see how they've progressed from being a centerpoint to being curled up and sad at the bottom of the helmet? Not listing the year anymore??

2013.

Same thoughts as 2012. And after this season, they cease to exist (just like his ferrari chair in the garage, WOAH CALLBACK), until cards make a reeappearance in his Vegas helmet, albeit in a different form

2013 Monaco(Honorable Mention):

For some reason 2013 helmets were easier to find proper pictures of, so I happened to witness this absolute beauty. The creativity of this helmet genuinely blows me away??? Wanting to keep the card motif, but making sure to incorporate it into the rest of the puzzle piece design?? Mwah! There was another special 2013 helmet but they didn't change the cards at all so I really applaud this one

2023 Las Vegas(The Return of The King):

The magnificent return! But look! The cards are different cards! Instead of being two aces, it's now an ace of hearts, a four of hearts(his driver number of course!) and, the, now iconic, representation of himself as a Joker. I literally could not believe my eyes when this helmet was released and I saw the Joker card, what a fucking silly old man....I really wonder if he felt nostalgic having cards on his helmet again or if he didn't think about it all and was just like, "ah cards because Vegas!!!"

III. Why Does This Matter?

*The rest of the post was factual, this is moreso my personal thoughts on the symbolism of the cards/designs

This post spawned from me recently watching the 2010 Bahrain gp and noticing "hey wait a minute...are those CARDS ON THE BACK OF HIS HELMET!?" It's a really tiny detail that's unfortunately covered up by the HANS device pretty much whenever he's wearing the helmet, so it's really difficult to spot! But I became fascinated with the fact that he had cards on his helmet before that recent helmet, and now here we are!

There's something to me about how the design of the cards evolves over the course of six seasons from the cards being front and center to being smaller, more folded up and closer to the bottom of the helmet. As I said, the 2012-2013 ones genuinely made me depressed because it feels, symbolically, like his hopes for getting another Ace are becoming more and more unlikely and falling away until they eventually fall falt and fade away entirely after 2013 and disappear for basically a decade.

But when they return? They're not the same cards! Instead of representing Fernando's championships, they now represent him as a person, displaying his driver number and his persona of being a Joker!! Though I do think it's interesting he happened to keep the Ace of Hearts, even though he talked more about the Ace of Clubs before. I'm not sure it's actually this deep in reality, but I like to think that it's him not letting his championships(and the lack thereof) define him, but rather letting who he is as a person shine and be the centerpoint instead! But on a sadder note, as @suzuki-ecstar said to me, maybe the Aces aren't there anymore because he's lost all hope for a chance at a third Ace entirely :(

#yes its finals week and im up to my eyes in coursework but instead decided to spend like 5 hours researching and writing this post #nah bcs i actually genuinely put more work into this then I think I have all semester dsfjdskjg #that thing about him using a condom and teddy bear in a magic trick genuinely had me crying with laugher. actual tears rolling down my face #<- HOW!?!? WHAT WAS THE TRICK?? its literally inconceivable to me what he did. oh if only there were pics UGH #anyways!! this post was a lot of fun to make!! i really really love the symbolism and design of helmets so this was a rly fun project #and i also went down a lot of rabbitholes while make this and saw many very weird articles from yore #i feel like i make an equal amnt of deranged posts abt seb and nando but i dont know why nando is gifted w all my well researched projects #<- i.e. chair post. that was the same level of research as this one but at least this one i could find actual sources about....#idk theres smth about the extremely long history of nando's history that evokes research posts like this KLAJSLSKDJ #theres just so much that i dont think I ever really see people discussing! so i must create.#haha what was that joke tag i wanted to make abt my researched posts? I think:#normal posts that catie normally makes in a normal fashion #<- one day ill go back and actually tag posts w that. bcs the amtn of research compared to my actual schoolwork is so unwell #fernando alonso #fa14 #f1 #formula 1 #catie.rambling.txt #we do a little bit of f1

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wasjustred · 1 year

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ahhh iloveyourworkssomuch!! 💖 i'd like to request something along the lines of sugar mommy!larissa (maybe with smut, who knows *wink*) 'cause she's all i can think about these days... anyways, happy early new years!!!

Easy Does It - NSFW Larissa Weems x f!Reader

Summary: Larissa spoils you beyond comprehension. Pairing(s): Larissa Weems x f!Reader Warnings: Smut. A lot of it. (Cunnilingus, fingering, strap-on — all Reader receiving) Word Count: ~4.7k

Author’s Note: I hope this meets your expectations, anon! I originally intended to make Larissa way more domineering, but once I began writing it just didn’t feel like her——I tried to stay true to her character where I could. As always, feedback is welcome ﹠. appreciated! ♡ (un-beta-ed as per usual!) ╱ AO3

The arrangement you and Larissa have has been smoothly gliding along for about six months now: you meet for dinner every weekend, in a town about half an hour outside of Jericho. You wear an outfit she’s picked out for you, she pulls your seat out, you share conversation and good - expensive - food and drinks, and you end on the stoop of your apartment, leaning into the kiss she places on your cheek, with a weekly allowance in cash in your purse. It’s the perfect set-up, nothing you’d dare protest, but sometimes you honest to god wish she’d just break her own rules and rail you ‘till the bed breaks.

Tonight you meet her at The Aviary, draped in a black satin dress with a deep slit up the leg––one of her favorites. Larissa helps you into your seat as she usually does, but before she takes her own, she places a long velvet box on your empty appetizer plate.

“Ooh, what’s this?”

“Open it and see.” A small, proud smirk turns her lips, eyes sparkling. You run your fingers over the velvet and lift at the seam, features going slack with surprise when you realize what’s hidden inside: a collar necklace, glittering diamond-cut, softening into a single falling arc of gems which ebbs, finally, into a small, shining teardrop. Light from the restaurant’s fixtures seem drawn to it, gleaming to and fro in a scattered stream of reflection. Your gaze snaps back to hers almost immediately, heart pounding.

“Larissa, I–”

“Do you like it?”

“I– Of course I do, it’s– it’s so beautiful..” Your voice softens and tapers off as you return your attention to the box before you. It’s probably the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever given to you, but you stop short of admitting this. “Help me put it on?”

Larissa’s smile grows as she gathers the box in her hands, lifting the necklace from its cushion. She moves to stand behind you and tenderly brushes your hair aside; her hands are as soft as anything, so gentle in the way they handle you, securing the piece around your neck. Your own hand raises to rest atop the new weight at your clavicle, and when she sets her palms along your shoulders and squeezes, you shift your hand up to capture hers.

“What’s the occasion?”

“Do I need one?” Larissa presses her lips to your cheek from behind before she retakes her seat, arching a brow in challenge. The answer is no, of course; this is how you work, special occasion or not. She always manages to keep you on your toes, though, far more thoughtful and intimate than any other ‘financeur’ you’ve ever humored in the past: Tennis bracelets set with gemstones which perfectly match your eyes, a new coffee bar set-up when you mentioned off-hand that Starbucks had discontinued your favorite drink, a signed first edition copy of your favorite book she ‘just so happened to come across’ while out of state. Much more than the simple, routine bank deposits and luxury brand pieces that were never quite you which you received from others. Larissa’s gifts have always been astoundingly personal.

You’ve never told her this, but you stopped dating altogether once your little dynamic began. How could anyone else compare? She makes you feel important without ever having to work for it ––– like you’re lovable, worthy, because you exist, and nothing more. You’re breaking your own rules, being so enamored with her, but you refuse to dwell on it.

“No, you don’t…” You trail off as your food arrives, ducking your head in thanks as the waiter sets everything out before you. Any discussion of her gift to you ends there on Larissa’s own accord, swiftly and advantageously moving on to a new topic as soon as the waiter has left you. The rest of the night is spent sipping expensive wine and musing instead on all of the high-culture goings-on you never get to discuss with anyone else: Art, ballet, classical music. Larissa’s a delicious trove of knowledge and opinions and she impresses you with each turn of a new topic. You often find yourself wondering - not just tonight, but many nights whilst basking in her presence - why she’s chosen you. You can hold good conversation, of course, and have an appreciation for the finer things in life usually reserved for those older and/or wealthier than you, but what’s always been curious, what’s always given you pause, is that she never asks for anything else in return. You have no choice but to ask yourself what it is you possibly have to offer to a woman like her––but you almost always fall short of a satisfying answer.

She’s talking you both through an analysis of the most recent play she brought you to when you take one of her hands in your own, tracing the lines of her palm as you listen. Larissa stumbles over her words at first contact, a rare occurrence for her, and blushes pink at the sensation. When you glance up at her in question she quickly averts her gaze and carries on, moving to smooth her thumb over yours as you continue. You love her fingers: they’re long, delicate, awfully reminiscent of the Greek statues she enjoys waxing poetic about. It’s an instance in which you’re reminded art, very often, echoes us in a continuous cycle of give and take.

You don’t say a word when you notice her face darken another shade as you press a kiss to the inside of her wrist before moving on to dote upon her other hand.

She’s not once explicitly told you, but Larissa’s never expected you to take a physical liking to her. She set the rules she did early on for a reason, knowing she could live with looking and not touching, taking care of you and watching your face turn alight with each gift or special night out without ever ending the evening by your side. No sex necessary, no physical affection expected. But here you are, fawning over her, and she’s never been more conflicted.

To assuage the feeling, she convinces herself it’s the wine that’s made you this way––a good bottle will go a long way, thus your touch must be the product of inebriation, not genuine affection. You’ve both long since finished off your meals when Larissa pays the bill and drives you home as she normally does, to an apartment she partly finances (not fully, at your own insistence that there are some things you should take care of yourself) and walks you to your door, stooping to kiss your cheek. Routine.

She is right about one thing, however, and that’s the potency of the house wine tonight. Not on your reasoning, but your self-control. You spent the car ride home admiring her profile in the passing streetlamps and traffic lights, studying the way each red light cast itself across her, how the passing headlights of opposing traffic bathed her in a cinematic glow you associated only, appropriately, with Vivien Leigh in A Streetcar Named Desire. Ghostlike, almost. Ethereal. And at that same wine’s behest, you lean further now into her goodnight kiss than you’d normally allow yourself.

It’s as she prepares to leave that you decide - anchored by the weight of the diamonds around your neck - that this is the night you’ll throw caution to the wind, fervently hoping it won’t backfire and end with her rejection and a ruined arrangement that you’d both worked to preserve over the past six months.

“Do you want to join me for a nightcap? I know we don’t usually, but.. I’d like you to. If you’d like to, of course. If you don’t that’s–––”

“Y/N,” she interrupts. You can hardly tell but her heart’s just about burst out of her chest. There’s an inner battle waging right on the precipice of her ribcage and your bright, hopeful eyes staring up at her aren’t making it any easier to parse out. Do you feel obligated somehow to pay her back for the necklace? She knows you know she’d never ask that of you, that your arrangement is not a traditional one, but has she unknowingly pushed the bounds all the same? Did you simply imbibe too much and don’t really have a clue what it is you’re saying?

Or, perhaps.. Most dangerously: Do you mean it?

“I don’t want you to feel as though you have to… ‘pay me back’ for tonight. That was never my intention.”

She volleys her own inner turmoil dead straight in your direction and stares down at you with what might be, if you squint hard enough, a nervous expression.

You lean sideways against the door and cross your arms over yourself, appraising her. Does she really not want you? What the hell does she get out of this if she doesn’t? You just can’t wrap your head around it, and while you insisted to yourself you’d never outwardly question the bounds of your relationship and why they’ve settled where they are, you’ve put yourself at a crossroads.

“Do you think I’m pretty?”

She balks.

“What? Of course I do. What does that have to do with anything?” Larissa’s expression is a mixture of incredulity and apprehension. You decide to bite the bullet then as she lingers uncertainly beneath the moonlight.

“I don’t understand what you get out of this. Am I not–– you think I’m pretty but you don’t want to touch me? You pay for my livelihood but you don’t want anything tangible in return?” You both purse your lips simultaneously and you’d laugh if the situation weren’t so dire all of a sudden. “You confuse me, Larissa.”

She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, a small cloud bursting forth as she sighs.

You fucked it, didn’t you? Fucked it right to hell, and now she’s never going to speak to you again.

“You’re an idiot, do you know that?” The air goes still.

…

It’s news to you.

Larissa suddenly pushes forward and traps you against the front of your door, hands leveled at your waist. “I’ve always wanted you,” she grits out, her arms tensing at your sides. “I just didn’t want you to feel as though you had to. Return the sentiment, that is. You’re too precious for that.” Her voice is low and rough in your ear, strangled. You grab hold of her forearms to keep yourself upright when her tone shoots right through you, breathing heavily. You gradually lift your gaze, poring over every curve of hers as you do, and meet her eyes. They’ve nearly gone black with lust, and a subtle quiver in her lip tells you everything you need to know.

“Kiss me.”

Larissa groans, which is admittedly not the reaction you’d expected, and presses further into you, her nose brushing against your cheek. You can feel the heat of her grow, ensnaring you in perfect contrast to the cool night air.

“You have to tell me you want it, darling. I need you to say it.” … Oh. A new wave of arousal surges through you as you turn your head ever so slightly, her lips hovering just out of reach. The shared breath between you has become fraught with possibility, with the overwhelming, unspent energy that’s been collecting over the last six months without either of you quite noticing. Of course this is what she needs: confirmation, not that you’re hers but that she’s yours, by choice and choice alone.

“I want you, Larissa. Please,” you whisper, squeezing her arms in an attempt to ground yourself. She says nothing in return, instead immediately closing the distance and engulfing you in a desperate, searing kiss. Your cheeks burn and it’s all you can do not to melt into her fully, sucking in a sharp breath as her tongue slides against your bottom lip. This, this, you realize, is exactly what you’d imagined: Feeling her against you, wrapped up tightly in her arms, being drawn in and freed all at once, struggling to contain the desire you feel pulsing within yourself. It’s like Larissa’s split open your mind and picked through every thought there, coming away with only the most indecent imaginings and putting them to use as her hips pitch forward and her hands grasp achingly at the roundness of your thighs.

“Open the door,” she husks, suddenly ripping herself away and turning you at the waist to face the door. You fumble for your keys as she scores your neck and shoulders with hot, open-mouth kisses, running the tip of her tongue along the muscle that pulls taut there.

“F-fuck.” The chuckle she gives in response to your whimpering, shaking when you can’t fit the key into its slot, only weakens you further. Larissa must know her effect well as she wraps an arm around you to hold you upright, the other grabbing the key from you and swiftly unlocking the door in one go.

“Trust me, I’m trying.”

Laughter follows you both as you take the stairs one at a time, pausing every few to take her tongue in your mouth and run your hands along her front. You bypass the living room once you reach the landing - a feat in itself - and lead Larissa straight to your bedroom, kicking one heel off in the hall and the other at the threshold of your room.

She stops you just before you reach the bed and holds you steady for a moment: “Hold on, I want to look at you..” You hair is mussed, curls losing their hold in the heat of your entanglement, chest heaving and red. Larissa steps forward to brush her thumb over your lips, searching your face for any sign of hesitation or doubt.

She doesn’t find any.

“Christ, you’re a pretty thing,” she hums. The pad of her thumb pulls at your bottom lip and you acquiesce, tilting your chin up before taking her finger into your mouth, rolling your tongue against its tip, watching her with wide eyes that imply an innocence you don’t possess. A hiss escapes her when your teeth come down around her knuckle and she scowls, gripping your jaw with an intensity that rivets the surrounding atmosphere as she rips her hand away, smashing your lips together once more.

In the next second the backs of your knees are buckling against the edge of the mattress and you squeak; Larissa had slipped a hand over your sternum and shoved, launching you down hard into the bed. Wet heat urges your hips forward as she crawls over you, but her hands swiftly come down to force them back into the mattress, trapping you there.

“Patience, darling.” You scoff as she begins the journey down your body, placing lazy kisses to your lips, cheek, jaw, chest while her fingers deftly work to pull your dress from you. You lift your back so she can snake a hand around and drag the zipper down to its end at the top of your hips, wriggling free and moving to pull at her own dress–––but she grabs your wrists, pinning them above you with a devious smirk.

“Ah, ah. Let me spoil you,” she murmurs into the crook of your neck, one hand traveling to cup the dampness between your legs. Electricity cracks against your spine at her touch; you’re sweltering and freezing all at once, watching her eyes rake over you with a hunger you’ve never seen on her before. Her fingers draw idle circles around your clit as she works her way down your body, leaving a trail of wetness in her wake where tongue meets flesh, nipping at the precipice of your hip bones, glancing up at you before she licks you through your panties. There’s no helping the whine you turn free when she all but purrs at the taste she gets of you from the soaked fabric.

“Larissa, please,” you huff, lifting your hips up to meet her mouth. She takes three steps then in quick succession: chuckles into the skin of your inner thigh; pulls your panties down and off of you; and presses a series of messy, teasing kisses to your bare sex. Your fingers clutch at the top of your duvet as she finally begins to devour you, breath hitching as her tongue circles your entrance and delves into you. In a moment of white hot desperation, you hook your legs around her, calves flexing against her back as you shudder into her touch. She’s ravenous, consuming you with long, uninterrupted strokes that ride on the flat of her tongue, lapping your slickness up and winding into you all at once. The coil is tight within you already, pulsing with every movement of her mouth. You’re almost worried it’ll be over before it scarcely has had the chance to start, but a quiet, bemused voice in the back of your mind ridicules you: Larissa is nothing if not generous.

“You taste divine,” she breathes, before returning her ministrations to your clit, sucking and popping with the filthiest fucking moan you’ve ever heard. The feeling of her tongue against that tight bundle of nerves prompts your eyes to roll back, eyelids fluttering, and imbues your hands with a mind of their own, working them swiftly into her hair and pulling her as close to your cunt as you can get her, hips lurching in an unsteady rhythm. You can feel her amusement at your desperation as distinctly as you feel her mouth, but it’s quickly forgotten when she slides two fingers into you with an ease that makes you lightheaded. The sound of your wetness is sinful, and you have to admit it only spurs you on.

“Fuck me, fuck me, pleasefuckme––” Larissa’s grinning against you as she pumps her fingers, curling into you with a startling accuracy that leaves you breathless and aching. You press your cheek to your shoulder in a feeble attempt to keep yourself above the threshold dividing pleasure and bliss, useless as she slips another finger into you and flicks her tongue against you, quickening her pace as she follows the mounting tone of your pleas. Every touch spreads a warmth through you impossible to ignore, stirring a frantic need beneath the surface of your skin.

“Cum for me, darling, cum for me, that’s right.” Larissa presses the heel of her hand into the space just below the swell of your stomach and the coil snaps suddenly, sharply, sucking all of the air out of you at the same time that you yelp and tense with equal force, clamping around her face as your orgasm tears through you. She continues to lap at you even as your hands push at her, holding fast to your thighs to keep her place. Your legs shake as she builds you up in the same breath that you’re coming down, a second orgasm already rearing its head.

“I can’t,” you keen, but Larissa shakes her head and unlatches briefly to disagree.

“Yes you can, Y/N––be a good girl for me.” It washes over you when she lowers her face again and wraps her lips around your clit, sucking with an unfazed firmness that shocks you to your center. You’re tingling over every limb, pacing your breaths to ride you through this second crest. “That’s it..” Larissa coos, running her hand over your leg comfortingly. You can hardly breathe as the shockwaves roll through you one after the other, and the darkness of the ceiling above you seems to double in size as you stare in a daze.

Your muscles melt into the mattress one by one, sinking deep as Larissa finally pulls her head away and crawls forward to kiss you; you can taste your slickness on her tongue, familiar and tangy. When you part, gasping for air, you wrap a hand around the back of her neck and press your foreheads together, gazing up into her eyes with the softest look you can muster after so thoroughly falling apart in her hands.

“My turn?” She laughs loud and heartily at your doe-eyed demeanor. You’re itching to touch her, to taste her, and she knows it.

“Mmm, maybe.” Larissa shrugs and rises up from her position over you, sliding off to the side of the bed where you can’t reach her––and not for lack of trying. A whine catches in your throat when she shoots a withering look over her shoulder, patting the space beside her. “Help me with my dress, darling.”

You waste no time in flipping over onto your knees, shuffling over to her and grappling with the zipper of her dress. You flush when she laughs both at your inability to get it down in one swift motion and the frustrated little growl that bubbles up from your chest.

“Not funny,” you complain, gritting your teeth as she shifts and the zipper gives, revealing the smooth, snowy expanse of her back. Instilled with a renewed sense of hunger, you push the fabric away from both of her shoulders and continue the journey down and around to her breasts, thrilled she’s forgone a bra tonight as you palm the supple flesh there and roll her nipples between your fingers. The sigh she expels is a ragged one, her hands dwarfing yours whilst her head falls back against your shoulder. You revel in the sight of her lip caught between her teeth.

“I want to fuck you.” You just barely catch it in between her labored breaths and your own thunderous heartbeat, but you do, and you turn to glance at her curiously before her meaning hits you square in the face.

“But––”

She cuts you off. “I want to destroy you, Y/N. You can taste me later,” Larissa mutters, pivoting without another warning and capturing your lips again. You wouldn’t complain if it weren’t for the utter distress you felt to get your hands on her. She doesn’t give you a chance to rebut, however, as she slips out of her dress and climbs over you, guiding your hands to grip her ass. “Later, I promise.” She pulls back to appraise you, taking a rigorous inventory that she’ll commit to memory if it’s the last thing she does: Your flushed skin, the way you can’t keep still under her touch, the unmistakable shine of desire in your eyes.

“In th-the nightstand,” you stammer. Suddenly the realization that Larissa is here, in your bed, and you, at her mercy, is too much at once. You’re trembling with need and anticipation. She tilts her head at you, one second, two passing before she follows your guidance and pulls the drawer open, grinning wickedly at what she finds there.

“Harness?”

You nod vigorously, propping yourself up on your elbows and directing her through another drawer of your dresser. The slow, methodical way in which she fastens the leather around herself surely burns itself into your brain, and you can’t help the shameless moan that seeps out when she smooths an indulgent layer of lubricant along the silicone from base to tip, a delicious sight between her legs.

Larissa approaches with an emphasized swing to her hips, bending at the waist to press a chaste kiss to your lips before she nudges you to scoot back into the middle of the bed, positioning herself above you with a hand on either side of your head. She dips her face down into the hollow of your throat.

Her voice vibrates against you despite her hushed tone. “Are you ready for me, darling?”

Your brain short-circuits at her words, imperfect timing. God, she’s fucking hot.

She lifts her head again to catch your gaze and smirks, nibbling on the tip of your chin. “Use your words.”

“Yes, yes, I’m ready,” you rasp, drawing your nails down the broad expanse of her back in anticipation.

The moment she slides into you is pure ecstasy: your toes curl and you haphazardly clamber for purchase upon her skin as she buries herself deep within you, stalling for a few moments to give you time to adjust. The way Larissa groans into the motion draws out an amusing - filthy - rumination about her being able to feel every stroke as with her own body, delighting in your wetness. She fills you seamlessly, snapping her hips against you before slowly drawing herself back, only to repeat the pattern and plunge into you as deeply as she’s able. It’s bruising and pleasurable all at once, how she brushes up against your walls and the ridges of the toy hit what your mind insists is every nerve-ending within you.

You rock together desperately, bodies moving as one as if you’d been doing this for centuries, mapping each other out and bringing each other to your peak. You savor the novel, tangled scent of sweat and arousal, a newly formed association with the sound of Larissa’s broken whimpers now frozen in your psyche.

A startled breath leaves you as Larissa abruptly anchors her weight to one side and pulls you on top of her, flipping your positions. Her arms wrap tight around you, looped at your back and around your shoulder as she fucks up into you at a crushing pace. You whine into the crook of her neck and realize you’re on the verge of tears, an overwhelming wave of pleasure and desperation wracking your body. Quiet grunts accompany her each thrust, slowing just so until it’s a steady pattern you can count to like clockwork, brutal and sharp at every buck of her hips. Your knees are aching, folded as they are, but the tight, coiling sensation within you overrides any and all discomfort, merely a quiet nagging in your brain; your focus is settled precisely on the angle of her cock and how her nails dig into your skin as you grind against each other. She’s close, too. You can feel it. It’s there in the shallowness of her breaths, in the urgency of her pelvis against yours, in the subtle arch of her back. You try to meet her where she’s at in your muddled state, pitching your hips backwards and down when she thrusts upwards––and you know it’s worked when she gasps and her hands scramble to lock together at the small of your back.

“Yes, that’s it darling. Just like that,” Larissa pants, using the leverage of her hold on you to help you fuck yourself. The only sounds permeating the room are that of your mingled breaths and her cock driving into you with a consistent, almost unforgiving rhythm.

“Pleasepleaseplease, ohfuck––”

“Y/N–––”

She tenses with you and cries out as your orgasms hit you both at once, ravaging you beyond reason. You’re hyper-aware of the way her breasts feel pressed against you, the way one of her hands flies up to bury itself in your hair as you ride her through your climax. Larissa’s hips stutter as she whines into your shoulder, sinking her teeth into you, and you marvel at the feeling of her muscles clenching around you, from the sinewy stretch of her arms to her thighs rested between your own.

Everything you’d hoped for. Fantasized about. Greedily deliberated again and again whilst watching her across the table in another fancy restaurant in another unfamiliar town.

Larissa is careful as she pulls out of you, slow and deliberate so as not to disturb the tenderness there. You remain curled on top of her but she doesn’t complain, rather rubbing your back in long, languid movements and whispering affirmations in you ear, a sweet mixture of ‘breathe darling, I’ve got you’ and more headily, ‘you did so well for me, you’re so good, you took me so well’. When you allow yourself to fall to the side of her, she shimmies out of the harness and tosses it somewhere off the edge of the bed, ignoring its clatter as she wraps you up in her arms. You burrow yourself further into her warmth and sigh at the feeling, content.

“Now is it my turn?” you ask, voice low and raked over with exhaustion. The belly laugh she gives is worth all the weariness in the world. “You’re incorrigible!”

#i also tried not to dive too deep into any specific kinks since there was no request for any #i think what i’m gonna do is add to my masterlist what kinks i will and won’t write and go from there!#that way ppl can request as they please :)#if anyone has any constructive/technique-specific comments on the smut pls send them my way!!#i have a tendency to be super explanatory/forward in a way that i don’t think always works for smth so intimate #so i’d love any help i can get!#ANYWAYSSSSS enjoy #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x f!reader #principal weems x reader #larissa weems imagine #larissa weems x female reader #larissa weems x y/n #larissa weems x you #principal weems imagine #larissa weems reader insert #larissa weems smut #answered (request)#wasjustred

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