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racingliners · 1 year

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Helmet Watch 2023

So, I had way too much fun rating all the team’s liveries this year (if you missed any of it you can find my thoughts here), so much so that I’ve decided to rate all the driver’s helmets as well! (I’ve also had a helmet tag on my blog pretty much ever since I got back into watching F1 because I just love how much effort gets put into each drivers helmet design... and I’m a Seb fan. Stanning helmet designs is in my blood by default)

Under a read more bc we have A LOT to get through! (Listed in alphabetical order by surname bc that just felt the best way to organise it)

Alexander Albon (Williams)

Starting off very, very strong. I LOVE the blue and red pairing, it looks so clean but so eye catching at the same time. And the stripes of the Thai flag is a really nice touch. I’m not sure why there’s the odd flash of light blue though?? It kinda feels like an afterthought.

8.5/10

Fernando Alonso (Aston Martin)

I do like the colour scheme, it just feels a tad busy with all the various stripes. But it is a really nice update to his traditional helmet design. I wish the Aston Martin wings were in the darker blue though, they would stand out so much better.

6.5/10

Valtteri Bottas (Alfa Romeo)

I do love me a mix of metallic finishes. The colour scheme as a whole is also top tier, the softer metallic blue with the more glittery charcoal, paired with the crème white is excellent. The overall design is super clean and looks really slick, his partner Tiffany who designed it did a really nice job!!

8/10

Pierre Gasly (Alpine)

CHROME MY MOST BELOVED!!!

I really liked his Monaco helmet last year and his design for this year is almost as good. I am obsessed with mixed finishes so the chrome on the crème white base it so nice, I like the pops of red, and the thin French flag going down the middle is a nice touch.

9/10

Lewis Hamilton (Mercedes)

So so so so much yes. There’s just SO MUCH I love about his 2023 design. Echoing his original helmet design with the yellow, but mixing in the purple from recent years. And the subtle rainbow gradient lines are so pretty and so perfect. And it looks gorgeous with the black Merc livery, which is always an excellent plus.

10/10

Nico Hulkenberg (Haas)

You know what... I really like it. The paint splatter effect is so pretty, I don’t recall seeing it on a helmet before and I think it looks great! It helps that there’s three different shades of orange to give some dimension. I am also obsessed with the glittery metallic purple. It works really well with the orange, and as it’s a warm-toned it should look somewhat coherent with the red in the Haas livery.

8.5/10

Charles Leclerc (Ferrari)

Not gonna lie, I got major Schumi vibes when I saw this. Which did make me every so slightly weepy, but he has made it slightly his own with the addition of the Monaco flag. It’s really simple, but it works. But like so much of F1 this year I really wish it was glossy instead of matte.

7/10

Kevin Magnussen (Haas)

Gotta respect the consistency Kevin has had with his helmet design since 2014. The colour scheme is also great, it’ll look really nice with the Haas livery, and stand out against his team mate’s (always nice to be able to tell the difference, looking at you 2013 yellow helmet Brocedes). I’m not overly wowed, but I also don’t hate it, it’s a really solid design.

7/10

Lando Norris (McLaren)

F1 teams take note bc THIS is how you make exposed carbon work!. The design feels properly thought out, so it doesn’t feel like anything is missing, as opposed to a few of the car liveries this year. And like Lewis’ helmet with the Merc livery, the simple two colour palette looks so good. Probably my favourite helmet design of Lando’s thus far.

9/10

Esteban Ocon (Alpine)

Yes. Absolutely no notes. Excellent work. Bloody gorgeous.

10/10

Sergio Perez (Red Bull)

It’s ever so slightly busy, but I still do like it!! The white and grey is the perfect base for all the bright pops of colour, and the pattern is very funky. Honestly it’s the Red Bull logo that lets it down for me with the different shade of yellow. If it was the same chartreuse as the accents it would look really good.

7/10

Oscar Piastri (McLaren)

I have mixed feelings about this one. One the one hand I love how bright and colourful it is (unlike the MCL60) and I think the colour scheme is really fun (peep the silver holo!!). On the other, the design and layout feels a little too busy. However I do think it will still look really nice with the car, and as always bonus points for not being matte.

6.5/10

George Russell (Mercedes)

I LOVE the shade of blue George picked, it’s really bright which will go really well with the black livery. Though it does remind me of the 2014 Malaysia helmet that Lewis never got to use (which, after 9 years, I’m still mad about) which colour scheme wise I definitely prefer. Overall it’s another super clean design which isn’t too simple that it looks plain.

7.5/10

Carlos Sainz Jr (Ferrari)

I find it a bit wild that Carlos and Fernando have done updates of their classic designs in the same year. Anyway, the geometric pattern is fun! It does make it look a lot more dynamic than just flat lines, though the black feels a bit jarring and out of place to me. I can only assume it’s to differentiate from Charles’ all red helmet.

6/10

Lance Stroll (Aston Martin)

Lance is once again staying true to the AM brand and I’m honestly not that mad about it. As a British Racing Green enthusiast I loooooove the base colour, especially bc it’s both glossy and has a super subtle sparkle to it!!! The Aston Martin wings looks great solid as opposed to an outline, but for me they’re a bit too big. And I’m not really sure why there’s a blue outline on the top, white or silver would have looked more coherent.

7.5/10

Yuki Tsunoda (Alpha Tauri)

I looooooooove this design so much!!! It’s so different, which I always appreciate, and I always enjoy it when a driver pays homage to their home country/heritage. I should add that we have a Japanese Maple tree in our garden (which is what the leaves are) and using different colour leaves is so so so pretty. I wish he had been able to put the Alpha Tauri logo in a different colour to make it look more coherent.

9/10

Nyck de Vries (Alpha Tauri)

I really like the colour scheme on this one, incorporating hints of Dutch orange into the navy and white AT colour scheme works so well, and I also like the flashes of lighter blue. And I especially love the slivers of silver holo, I just wish there was a tad more to contrast against the matte finish.

7.5/10

Max Verstappen (Red Bull)

Obviously, I do have my Seb fan bias of there only being one superior ‘white helmet with driver’s flag colours’ design, but this does look nice. It’s really clean, and unlike Perez’s the Red Bull logo feels like it fits in with the design much better. But, I do feel like it could use a little jazzing up, maybe making the dark blue stripes a glossy metallic.

6.5/10

Zhou Guanyu (Alfa Romeo)

Lad is really going for the paddock fashionista title and I respect that. I adored his porcelain design at Abu Dhabi, so the ode to that around the visor is really cool (peep the smidge of silver holo, more of that please!!). I like that it’s an overall warm toned colour palette that should complement the red and black Alfa well. It’s so bright and I think it will really stand out at both day and night races.

8.5/10

#so many helmets; so little time #Formula 1 #2023 #Helmet #Helmet Watch #Helmet Watch 2023 #I've said it in the tags of a few posts; but the drivers have trounced the livery launches with their helmets this year #dare I say Ocon's is up there on my all time fave helmet list #it's just so so good

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dailypokemoncrochet · 3 months

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FOTH Farigiraf!!!

Okay scale is very hard to show with this one because SO tall and oh gosh there are so many details 😭😭

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skitskatdacat63 · 7 months

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2009 Reference Guide to Seb's Hair(Long post w lots of pics):

I would rate these but I love every version of him too much so I cannot pick 🤭, I'll add some commentary though. This took a horrible amount of time but it was also a great excuse to download and show off a truly terrible amnt of Seb pics(I was in tears half the time bcs of cuteness agression)

0. Testing(Jerez)(February 10th-12th):

Honestly such perfect Seb hair, I find this soooo cute!!! His hair is honestly always so perfect at Jerez testing every season. I love the length and style, he looks so incredibly pretty <3

1. Australia(March 26th-29th):

And now he is...bald. I actually kinda love this hair, he's my little kiwi fruit!! But I also can't help but mourn the Jerez hair. I'm just like: why did you feel the need to go bald, Seb??? It makes him look so young!

2. Malaysia(April 2nd-5th):

3. China(April 16th-19th):

I think the highlight of his bald era is how much he embodies the nickname "sunshine." Like the way his hair and eylashes glow in the sun??? Literally sunshine. Also it's cute to see his hair grow more fluffy

4. Bahrain(April 23rd-26th):

The texture differences are so interesting, I think this length looks its best when it's more fluffy like in the top right pic.

5. Spain(May 7th-10th):

It's funny how his hairline does that point in the middle, again: looks better when he looks unkempt

6. Monaco(May 21st-24th):

Weirdly shocked at how much his hair grew in-between Spain and Monaco??? Also I forgot that those fashion pics were from this weekend, and I was jumpscared by his mohawk look. I think he should keep away from hair product hahaha

7. Turkey(June 4th-7th):

Lego hair looking ass. Kidding kidding, just think his hair looks best all natural

8. Silverstone(June 18th-21st):

Lowkey kinda baffling to me how different his hair looks at different stages of the weekend. The podium hair especially is just soooo different, its very cute but yeah idk

9. Germany(July 9th-12th):

I did not realize he cut his hair again during this season?? Seeing these was very surprising to me, I had thought he grew it out for the entire season but I guess not! But I guess if he hadn't gotten a haircut the entire season, he'd probably have his angelic curls of 2010 by the end

10. Hungary(July 23rd-26th):

Kinda love the looks he was serving this weekend, it's just very spikey and cute(also the cunty sunglasses!!

11. Valencia(August 20th-23rd):

12. Belgium(August 27th-30th):

That garage lighting makes his hair look soooo much more yellow rather than his fair blond in the sunlight

13. Italy(September 10th-13th):

This transitional growing period is not my fav, just the way his hair sweeps in is funny

14. Singapore(September 24th-27th):

Looking particularly blond this weekend!! His hair is just very light and pretty

15. Japan(October 1st-4th):

I think most of these are from post-quali and for good reason; I love the way it looks like he has highlights in all the bottom pics

16. Brazil(October 15th-18th):

I love his scruffiness from this weekend!!! The scruffy stubble is sooooooo!!!

17. Abu Dhabi(October 29th-November 1st):

Pretty cute I think but yeah like nothing can really compete with his hair length in 2010 for me so I look at these and I'm like, ooooo growing longer!!

Conclusion: I think it's fun to get to see the process of someone's hair growing out. I've noticed that a lot of men with short hair get very consistent haircuts to keep their hair generally the same length, and I think that's so boring!! I think it's great to grow out your hair for a few months time because you get to see yourself at all the different stages and experiment with all kinds of different looks! So yeah, props to Seb for serving all kinds of looks this season!!

Also it's always interesting to me how much hair length/style and facial hair can change a person's look, but particularly how old/young they look. Like when he shaved his his head, it made him look so young. But in Brazil for example, with the longer hair and scruffy facial hair, he def looks older!

And of course, let me know which you like the best :D My favorite is Jerez <3

#i need a tag for posts like these which is just:#normal posts that catie normally makes in a normal fashion(not deranged)#this is mainly just ref for me #and for people like me who feel the urge to be ultra specific in everything they create #hope this was interesting for people who are not just me!!#i love how I originally foolishy tried to make this in one night. so naive.....#okay anyways posts i wanna make in this same vein:#more seb hair guides obv(guys idk if you knew but im very normal abt his hair)#id like to try and categorize all his 2009 and 2010(and before) helmets since theyre not on his website and i love them a lot #this would take a horrendous amnt of time but id love to try and make a guide of all nando's facial hair(hes had so many wild ones okay)#and then i wanna rate all the rbr race suits bcs i think about them *so often* and i have many thoughts #sebastian vettel #sv5 #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #catie.rambling.txt #we do a little bit of f1 #normal posts that catie normally makes in a normal fashion

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mental-jhinstability · 1 year

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JhinThresh server encourages my High Noon obsession, more at noon

Another ramble by a gay cowboy, about gay cowboys, for my gay (cowboys in spirit) friends.

Some NSFW, nothing directly explicit but there's some level of detail. OOC as always but I've been informed I'm based so... hopefully it's based this time, too?

This specifically is about them being drunk. To start, I headcanon Jhin as an emotional drunk (imagine him getting all emotional about his horse loving him too and practically crying in front of a probably sober Thresh who finds this adorable and jealousy-inducing, because Jhin should giving HIM all that attention) and Thresh as a more relaxed drunk--as in he gets a little more loose-lipped. This will also involve my bartender High Noon Jax, because why shouldn't it. We all know these idiots cannot do anything about their feelings without being beaten over the head with a lamp.

More of another "things I wanna write but probably won't" than a headcanon ramble, but whatever. Jhin comes in to the bar, and Jax already has his first drink (of four) ready by the time he's even at the bar. And, of course, being the weirdo bartender; Jax is already asking him if he's asked out Thresh yet. Giving advice, teasing him. Jhin doesn't respond much, just finishes his drinks and gets out as quick as possible. But now there's an issue; he's a bit drunk and now he has Thresh on his mind. Given that I said he's a more emotional drunk earlier, this is a much bigger issue than he thinks it is. He just heads to the barn, because really what else is there to do when you're a drunk cowboy (aside from fucking and/or killing)?

Thresh is there. He watches as Jhin cries over his horse, talks to it. He's jealous for a few minutes. The horse is getting all this attention, and not him? And then Jhin asks his horse what he should do about his “weird feelings” for a certain man. He doesn't mention Thresh's name, but now Thresh is even MORE jealous. Who's this other guy stealing his victim slash weird crush? Unforgivable. I haven't really imagined much past this, and I'm no good with smut, but Thresh probably gets a little drunk himself, reveals himself to Jhin, who is now cagey and cold to Thresh due to not wanting to admit the guy he loves was him, and then Thresh fucks him because he's jealous. Maybe involving a riding crop. And Thresh's chain/rope/thing. And possible admission of feelings. Who knows.

And a second part… flirting. Their flirting is really weird, because they don’t. They just do a LOT of homoerotic touches and things for each other. Both of them realise this, but neither rationalise it correctly and think the other doesn’t think it’s homoerotic. They think they’re enemies/rivals/begrudging friends, despite both of them feeling attached to the other. I went over the physical homoerotic touch aspects in both of my previous rambles, but I guess I’ll go for other ways here.

Thresh tends to braid Jhin’s horse’s hair the same way he always does it. He doesn’t do a particularly good job and Jhin always scolds him and says “that’s not how you do it, you fool” etc etc until he’s giving Thresh a lecture on how to braid hair. This goes on until Jhin ends up just grabbing Thresh’s hands and “guiding him” (aka just doing the whole thing for him) through it. Thresh knows full well how to braid hair after the first time; but he continues to do it just so he has Jhin’s full attention. As I’ve mentioned he cannot rationalise this in a normal way (“This is torture because I’m taking his time and energy away from more important things, to make him easier to break”) and neither can Jhin. He likes teaching Thresh but he’s not sure why (it’s because he likes feeling in control, as well as the feeling of having Thresh as a captive audience) and instead chooses to think it’s just because he likes being correct. It’s flirting, just nonverbally.

On the same note, Jhin tends to make an effort to argue with Thresh over things. Anything, regardless of how monotonous or how pointless the argument is. He likes getting an anger reaction out of Thresh. He finds it hot (which he mistakes for just being an adrenaline addict; they’re not all buddy-buddy so he figures it’s only natural to get worked up by your enemy/rival getting angry at you). He gets genuinely upset when Thresh doesn’t react or argue back or even concede. He wants something other than constant teasing or silence, and when he doesn’t get that something, he gets a bit fussy and usually ends up touching Thresh in some way to rile him up. Sexually or non-sexually, it doesn’t matter. It gets a reaction and he gets to touch Thresh, so it’s a win-win.

If we combine the two, drunk flirting. Jhin gets emotional, so with enough provoking from Thresh usually you can get a flirty comment—albeit vague and a bit unorthodox—from him. He still tries to maintain a mask of indifference or hatred towards him when drunk but he falls on his face and ends up letting a few things, whether they be emotions or words, slip. Thresh, being loose-lipped, is usually the one to end up very explicitly flirting with Jhin when drunk. Compliments his body, calls him cute and pathetic, says he wants to hear him scream. He, of course, has some level of plausible deniability with these comments when sober, but when drunk he doesn’t tend to defend himself. He never admits it’s flirting, but he’ll not say no. Oh also they both get horny when drunk so if they’re later in to their homoerotic rivalry they probably fuck. Up to you.

Also… please read the tags of this post. There’s a few little related side tangents in there, if you’re interested.

#jhinthresh #i feel like they also flirt thru doing things for eachother without saying anything #jhin cleaning thresh's stuff. thresh making sure jhin's riding helmet is somewhere very visible (usually on the floor just to piss him off)#just to serve as a little reminder to be safe. though i mentioned how he rationalises that last ramble post #he's worried about his little bf </3 #i have no idea how alcohol works if you can't tell. i have gotten tipsy about once and i've been able to drink for... how many years now #well over a decade #just not in to it. so if anyone who Does drink alcohol wants to correct something please do #i'd also like to apologise for any spelling errors/weird mistakes i didn't catch #i nearly died today so i'm a little shaken LOL #anyway shoutout to jamie (can i call you that) for encouraging the High Noon Virus #he was the one who got me in to jhinthresh albeit indirectly so to me he's a bit like a celebrity #well. all of you are kinda like that to me. you are so cool #but every time someone says they like my little headcanon rambles it's like !!!!!?????!!!#so thanks y'all <3

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lovelyamneris · 1 year

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I don’t know how unpopular this is but even though mando s3 had a super cute happy ending overall the season was really disappointing and just felt Different

#a lot of it just felt like filler I guess?#and as much as I love Bo Katan she overshadowed him so many times #and he needed to be saved SO MUCH #and he just felt far more tame than before I guess?#and all of a sudden he doesn’t care if mandos wear their helmets or not?#even though Imin every other season he’d literally duel you to the death for that #and shouldn’t he feel a little bit pissed that the armorer said Bo Katan doesn’t have to wear her helmet right when she was getting into it #but he was shunned and belittled for it #that pissed me off he should be pissed too #the mandalorian #the mandalorian season three #din djarin

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dnickels · 10 months

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Every single time there is a catastrophic flood (so, every six weeks or so) the news will post pictures of people out in their kayaks or canoes pretending its Venice without any commentary and it makes me completely insane. This is dangerous and people die doing it.

Do not go into the floodwater unless the risk of staying where you are is somehow greater than the risk of going in the floodwater. Do not get in the floodwater except as a last resort.

The water itself is bad news (raw sewage, fire ants, industrial runoff) but the danger here is in the movement of the water: water flowing down a street has currents. Sometimes you can see them and sometimes you can't. 12 inches of water can move a car. What do you think a few feet will do to you in your dinky little sit-on-top if you get tired? Who is coming to rescue you if the water starts taking you somewhere you don't want to be?

Visibility in floodwater is shit. You cannot see obstacles (submerged cars, mailboxes, trashcans, etc). Trees and fences will become strainers (imagine pouring pasta into a colander. Now imagine you are the pasta and the force of constantly moving water is holding you in place). If you come out of your vessel you could potentially encounter open manholes or storm drains that suck people in (a lot of water draining through them creates powerful suction!!). People walking in floodwaters regularly step off a curb and are suddenly immersed in moving water well over their head.

Somehow, despite all this, these people NEVER have LIFEJACKETS on!! You own a boat but not a lifejacket?? Not that a lifejacket would make this a good idea, but if you are forced to abandon your home/car/whatever and get in the water a lifejacket might very well SAVE YOUR LIFE.

Look at a picture of professional swiftwater rescuers operating in a flood situation. They have on lifejackets, drysuits, helmets, boots, and a shit ton of gear. You are in a two-piece bathing suit and a shitty walmart paddleboard. DON'T BE STUPID. IT'S NOT WORTH IT.

sorry for the all caps lecture but one drowning is too many.

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long-live-astronerd-ghost-king · 2 months

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DPXDC prompt. Dead on main. Singer! Phantom x Red Hood!Jason

Laws are easily changed if businessmen smell money.

Paulina and Sam suggest Danny to try to become a singer in order to change society's opinion about ghosts a little. In the end, the otherworldly sound of his voice can at least be used for the benefit of Realms.

And it seems like the Everlasting Trio is really liked by the public. At first they just release a few songs (Exams kill, Battle with myself, What an Autopsy Won't Show, Among the stars). But a mysterious atmosphere mixed with understandable teenage problems begins to take over teens playlists. Their fans want more and more.

So, when under the pressure of the public and profit-hungry bigwigs all bans on the presence of ecto creatures in the United States are lifted, the Trio goes on their first Tour.

~~~~~

Jason stumbles upon Phantom's songs completely by accident. It was painful to hear them for the first time but at the same time it was as if he could breathe again because he had found someone similar. Someone who understands, and who doesn't judge him for coming back wrong. Jason listens to his voice on repeat and the rage seems to recede and subside. There is sadness of loss and fear in the songs but most of them end bringing some hope and this thought gives Red Hood more strength not to break down for another day. and then another, and another..And one day, the green eyes in the mirror do not scare Jason but shows him that he belonging to something more. Todd can't explain it more precisely, but it was as if the waters of Lazarus inside him had calmed down and he was no longer enemies with them. He even jokes with Tim that he is finally rest in peace and ready to live a full undead life when his brother (God, his lil brother whom he wanted to hurt recently because of his own stupidity), asks him about his strange behavior.

~~~~~

Jason forgets how to breathe again. His favorite band, and most importantly his favorite vocalist, is coming to Gotham with a concert. For many years now, none of the nonresidents have dared to take such a risk, but it seems like Phantom has absolutely no instinct for self-preservation. Well, as a true fan, Red Hood will do his best so that none of the gothamites spoil the Trio's impression of their first concert here. Danny is beside himself with excitement. Their concert in the hometown of the Red Hood was approved. Of course, there is no chance that he would be able to meet such a busy vigilante but Phantom continues to dream. If he'll fly a little over the city instead of sleeping after rehearsals, maybe he'll get an autograph from at least one member of the bat clan.

~~~~~ Phantom: Thank you very much Mr. Nightwing sir. Just sign it for.. Nightwing: For a Phantom, right? Huh, I recognized you, my brother has poster in his room. Nice hairstyle by the way. Danny*urgently*: Which one of them?

Nightwing: Jeez, and I thought it was just a stage image. Ghosts are kinda creepy. Terribly persistent, to be precise. And yeah, Jason, he absolutely not against you as a vigilante. You can safely ask Phantom to sign your helmet, I promise. Man was so happy when find out you're listening to his songs, you have no idea.

Jason *holds out a hand*. Nightwing: What? Jason: If you dared to meet Phantom before me, then where is my autograph? Nightwing: Em..oops? I gave him mine if it helps.

Jason: *sounds of an angry lazarus demon*.

#dpxdc prompts #dpxdc prompt #dpxdc crossover #dpxdc au #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dcxdp #dead on main #dpxdc memes #danny x jason

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arieslost · 28 days

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loudest in the paddock | cl16

summary: you’re charlie’s biggest fan.

word count: 1,013

warnings: suggestive comments at the end, possible bad writing (apologies in advance if this ends up being true)

masterlist — join my tag list here!

being charles leclerc’s girlfriend is a badge of honor that you wear with pride, and you love to make it known to everyone, whether there’s a camera on you or not.

the fans have a field day with all of your reactions that get captured on camera during race weekends, to the point where charles has a folder on his phone that is home to a number of memes that they’ve made of you. you just get easily excited, and clips of you yelling about something, whether good or bad, have gone viral on many separate occasions.

things are a little different this race. since the moment max’s brakes caught fire and then exploded as he was coming into the pit lane, you’ve been laser focused on the fact that your boyfriend’s teammate is in the lead, with your boyfriend himself only a couple seconds behind in p2. the only time your eyes weren’t glued to the tv was when you noticed someone standing in front of you to block the camera’s view of your celebratory dance when it was official that max had DNFed.

you’re practically biting your nails off as the laps go by, praying harder than you ever have before that this race ends well for ferrari. you hadn’t been able to attend the last race, so the possibility of witnessing charles on the podium in the flesh had you shaking in your boots. especially after how rough last season was.

and then george crashes on the last lap.

“what?!” you exclaim, flying out of your chair and covering your mouth with both hands.

the tv switches to a different camera that shows his car on its side in the middle of the track, and you can feel your heart in your throat as you wait for what looks like an obvious red flag. you can hear someone say your name, and out of the corner of your eye you can see your own face on another tv. usually you smile, wave, or make a funny face at the camera when you catch it filming you, but right now you’re too worried about the fact that only a yellow flag has been called along with a virtual safety car. your hands go from your mouth to your head as it’s confirmed that the race will finish under the virtual safety car, meaning a guaranteed ferrari 1-2 and charles on the podium.

you waste no time in throwing your headset down and cheering, getting wrapped up in hugs by the team as they pass you by to head to the side of the track and cheer carlos and charles across the finish line. while they do so, you rush out of the garage to find your way to the podium in order to get the best spot to see both ferrari drivers up there and hear the dulcet tones of a different anthem than that of the dutch one.

the wait goes by quicker than you thought, and they’re announcing lando’s name as he walks onto the podium to claim his third place finish. then the graphics behind the podium change to charles’, and the second his name is called you do what you’ve been waiting to do since the moment max retired from the race.

years of attending concerts and dance competitions had thoroughly prepared you for this moment. you cup your hands around your mouth, and the second you spot charles, you shout as loud as you possibly can.

“CHARLIEEEE!”

your scream renders everyone else silent for a few shocked moments, and you giggle when charles nearly trips over his own feet as he cranes his neck to try and find you. you shout his name again, sending the ferrari team into a chorus of similar cheers, and when charles finally spots you, his smile grows impossibly brighter and he blows you a kiss from the second place position on the podium.

he looks nothing short of ethereal— his hair fluffy and messy from being encased in his helmet, the rings adorning his fingers, the way he holds his chin up with barely contained pride as the team sings the italian national anthem. you make a mental note to tell him he’s been looking a lot like tony stark lately, and you’re loving it. even more so when he gets drenched in champagne, the confetti sticking to his soaked skin.

he has no struggle in finding you after the ceremony— as soon as you spot him, you let out a wolf whistle that has him blushing.

“there’s my girl,” he laughs as you launch yourself into his arms, kissing the top of your head. “made sure i could hear you all the way from the podium, huh?”

“of course, what did you expect?” you ask, smiling widely as you look at the trophy that got sandwiched between you both. “i’m so proud of you, charles. the whole world needs to know about it.”

“here,” he holds the trophy out to you. “pour toi, ma belle.”

“you’re shouldn’t have,” you tease, taking it into your hands and admiring it as best you can while trying to ignore your reflection in its surface. “this is amazing. you’re amazing. where’s carlos?”

“i thought you were my girlfriend,” he snatches the trophy back. “no more trophy for you.”

“but he won,” you continue, rolling your eyes when he pouts. “hey, i only gave him gracious applause. i seem to recall screaming your name before.”

“and it’s the only name you ever will.” he says with a wink, and you elbow him in the ribs.

“you are so…” you trail off, at a loss for words courtesy of his audacity.

“correct?” he supplies, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your temple.

“i was thinking ‘unbelievable.’”

“i’m taking that as a compliment.” he says, before leaning in and whispering in your ear. “now let’s go back to the hotel and see how loud you can be for me there, hmm?”

you can only hope that the hotel walls are soundproof.

note: for some reason writing for charles is like fucking impossible for me so if this flops i have nothing and no one to blame but myself 💪🏼💪🏼

my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever @likedbygaslyy

#blurb #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #cl16 x reader #cl16 x you #cl16 imagine #cl16 one shot #cl16 fluff #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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nadvs · 1 month

Text

looking to score (one-shot)

pairing footballcaptain! rafe cameron x female headcheerleader! reader

rating explicit 18+

summary rafe has been flirting with you all season long. just when you think he’s never going to actually seal the deal, you do something to make him dangerously jealous and he realizes he’ll need you to prove who you’re loyal to.

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

The state championship game coming up means there are two sure things you can count on.

One, you have to hold twice as many cheerleading practices to make sure your routines are clean and flawless.

And two, everyone on campus has Rafe Cameron’s name in their mouth.

He’s the starting quarterback, the captain of the football team, the fucking pride and joy of your college. For him, it’s awesome. He loves the attention. As for you, you’ve given up on trying to stifle your eye-rolls any time someone mentions him.

Rafe is the cockiest man you’ve ever known. Your interactions with him have been limited, but telling. He’s been teasing you all season, flirting and acting like he’ll finally put a move on you. But then he never does.

Before every home game, as team captains, you stand first in your respective line in the tunnelled corridor that leads out to the football field. This gives Rafe a nice few minutes to flirt with you and does he love to lay it on thick.

Today, finally, it’s the day of the championship game, and your college is hosting. The campus is buzzing with excitement, colorful signs in the stands, every parking lot full.

You’re waiting in your usual spot. The crowds in the stands outside are roaring and the conversations of cheerleaders and college staff are bouncing around the concrete tunnel.

The players aren’t here yet, but you know it’s only a matter of minutes before Rafe leads them down the hall, pausing next to you, messing with you like always.

It’s almost torment the way he works you up, then does nothing about it. Nonetheless, you look forward to this little routine you two have and hope he puts his money where his mouth is one day.

Rafe lives for the buzz before a home meet. The local fame he amasses, the promise of an hour-long game where he’s celebrated for his aggression, the opportunity to talk to you before he steps out onto the field… it’s electrifying.

When he saunters down the corridor towards you, all height and breadth and fucking ego, his eyes trail down your body like he’s imagining what’s underneath your cheerleading uniform.

“Damn,” he lowly mutters to you. “I swear, that skirt keeps getting shorter.” He leans back against the hard wall, waiting for his cue to rush the field.

“Wishful thinking,” you reply, crossing your arms.

Rafe soaks in the sight of your cleavage, the way your tits press together under your v-neck top when you stand like that. His blood runs hot like it always does when he sees you.

“This is a big game,” he says. He’s rolling his helmet in his big hands, his shoulder pads wide, the red of his jersey somehow making his blue eyes look even bluer. “You shouldn’t be distracting me.”

“Do you ever give it a rest?” you ask. He bites his lip, gaze dropping to your legs.

“We both know you don’t want that.” His smirk is so cocky, his dimples so taunting, that you have to look away from him. He’s almost too hot.

“Got me there, Rafe,” you say sarcastically. When you roll your eyes at him, his dirty mind immediately imagines you doing that from pleasure while he fucks you.

“Good, get used to saying my name,” he chuckles.

“Because I’ll be screaming it later, right?” you quip. “Original.” Regardless, you feel yourself flush a little when you imagine him on top of you.

“I’m just sayin’, be prepared,” he says, amused as hell. The band starts playing the familiar entrance music in the stands, prompting you to get ready to run out.

“You want me so bad, it’s embarrassing.” You kneel over to pick your pompoms off the ground, purposely perking your ass in his direction. He feels his groin tighten at the view.

“I’m not embarrassed,” he says. You meet his eyes and can’t stifle the smile on your face, shaking your head as he pulls his helmet over his head.

Goddamn, he wish he knew if he actually had a chance with you. But he hasn’t ever made a real move, sure you’d reject him in a heartbeat. It’d be too big a blow to his ego.

The game is a close one through all four periods. You and your team cheer on the sidelines as the sun starts to set, trying to weaken the thick tension that stretches across the field.

Rafe plays fast and rough like usual, but you’ve noticed he has a sudden rivalry with one of the opposing players. Every time he gets even remotely close to number 33, who’s clearly been tasked with taking Rafe down, he’s shouting at him or shoving him.

His aggression is hot. Always has been. You look away from the field as if someone can read your mind.

Of course, it’s Rafe’s touchdown that wins the game for the home team. You’re elated, the cheering and applause and energy around you magnetizing.

You and the other cheerleaders storm the field, followed by the marching band and everyone on the coaching team.

In the crowd, you see Rafe with his helmet off, smiling the biggest you’ve ever seen. The stadium lights are strong, washing him in a bright light, showcasing the handsome planes of his face.

“Don’t rub it in, huh?” you hear. You turn to see a player from the other team smirking at you, his helmet hanging off his fingers.

“Kind of my job,” you reply, gesturing to your pompoms. He laughs, nodding as he looks down. Okay, he’s cute.

Rafe’s impulse is to look for you, brag to you about his win and about how you have no choice but to cheer for him.

When his eyes land on you, you’re standing on the field looking so fucking cute with your hip cocked, smiling at…

His blood boils. You’re smiling at another guy. The guy who’s been dogging him and pissing him off the whole game. Number 33. Why the fuck are you smiling at him?

Rafe can’t control himself. He starts to push through the crowd to get you the hell away from that asshole, when the coach stops him, talking to him about their play.

He loses sight of you and it makes every sore muscle in his body tense.

When the team heads inside, Rafe doesn’t even have the patience to peel off his muddy uniform. He leaves his helmet in his locker and rushes out of the room to find you.

He’s pissed off at your lack of loyalty. He’d like to think it’s because he cares about the team that much, but no. You’re his. Some dickhead, especially one on the opposing team, isn’t going to flirt his way into your pants.

When he spots you walking through one of the hallways that surrounds the stadium, he rushes to you and grabs your wrist.

You look up to see Rafe staring down at you with hard eyes.

“Why were you talking to that asshole?” he asks over the sound of the chattering crowds surrounding you.

Excitement burns through you. Is he talking about the player who flirted with you? Damn. He’s jealous. You give him a gratified smile.

“Only asshole I talked to today was you,” you reply.

“What did he say?” he demands, voice low. What’s worse is that you fucking smiled at him, a smile that should only be reserved for him, but he won’t say that out loud.

“He was hitting on me,” you reply, smirking. “Hopefully he’ll actually do something about it. Unlike you.”

Your response throws him for a second. If you want him to follow through, to finally resolve months of sexual tension, he’ll gladly fucking do it.

He angrily yanks you towards him and you allow him to guide you through the throngs of spectators.

Rafe has one thing in mind. He knows where the visiting teams park their bus. And he’s taking you there.

He roughly pushes open the heavy door to the back parking lot, pulling you behind him. The evening air is warm and the area is dark and fenced up and all you can hear is his panting.

Hard hands find your hips and push you against the cold, metal wall of the bus. Rafe’s finally facing you again, his stare penetrating. Your heart is hammering with anticipation.

“You want me to do something about it, huh?” he rasps. He pushes his hips against yours, grinding against you.

“Fucking finally,” you breathe.

His lips are on yours as he huffs a chuckle, unable to believe that you’re crumbling for him this damn easily.

His tongue runs against yours and his body feels so firm, the smell of his sweat musky and so fucking sexy. You feel the bulge of his hardening cock against your groin and you buck against him.

His hand eagerly runs up your thigh, below your skirt. When his fingers press against your cunt, you jolt, your breath stopping for a second.

“You wet for me?” he asks, pads of his fingers pushing up against your entrance. His breath is hot, his nose nudging yours. Arousal coils in your stomach, tight and hot.

You feel so soft and moist through your panties. Rafe knows he won’t be able to simply touch you for much longer. He needs to be inside you.

“Mhm,” you can only desperately hum.

His other hand moves from your hip to your face, squeezing your cheeks together as he looks down at you.

“What’s that?” he asks.

“Yes,” you reply clearly, eyes boring into his.

Excitement pools in you when he moves his hands away to pull down his pants. You eagerly hike up your skirt and yank down your underwear.

It’s so fucking insane to be doing this out here. Someone could come through the door in a second. But the risk of it just adds to the thrill.

You revel in the sight of Rafe’s hard, curved cock in his hand. He’s fucking huge. You can admit the ego is warranted.

Rafe loves your expression, the way your lips are parted in surprise.

“Damn, look at you,” he huffs with a smirk. “You want this dick so bad.”

You eagerly lift your knee for him and he takes the invitation immediately, holding your leg up against his hip.

The feeling of him lining himself up against your cunt is mind-blowing. He pushes into you slowly, every inch feeling better than the last.

“How long have you wanted this?” he grunts once he bottoms out.

“Feels like fucking forever,” you admit breathlessly. “What took you so long?”

“Just be grateful you’re getting it,” Rafe replies. So cocky. Typical.

He pulls back then thrusts into you. Hard. You let out a strained sob and he inhales sharply at how nicely you’re squeezing around him.

“Oh, my God,” you whimper. The leg holding you up is wobbly already, making you grateful his hand is firmly hooked underneath your knee.

“You think that idiot can fuck you like this?” he says, driving in and out of you.

“No,” you say, and you mean it. You’re not sure anybody can pound into you so effortlessly, with so much passion.

You dip your head back, eyes squeezed shut while he fucks you.

“Don’t fucking talk to him again,” he orders, his hand rubbing over your chest and roughly kneading your tits.

This jealousy, this ownership, is so fucking hot. He continues to pull in and out so hard and so fast that you know you’ll be sore tomorrow.

“I won’t,” you promise. He’s so big inside you, stretching you so nicely, that you feel your stomach tightening already. “Shit. I’m gonna cum.”

“Do it loudly,” he says with a self-satisfied laugh. “And say my name.”

You obey, and when the orgasm rocks through you, your blood runs hot and sparks go off through your entire body. Rafe feels you squeezing him even tighter and he groans, cumming inside you in hot waves, twitching.

You bite your lip as he pulls out, feeling aftershocks of pleasure rocking through you.

Realizing what you’ve just done, that you’re in a fully public area, you frantically pull up your panties and readjust your skirt. Rafe looks amused by your nervousness, slowly getting dressed again.

“That was…” you begin, but you don’t have the words. Rafe leans down, capturing your face in his hands again to kiss you deeply.

A loud bang forces you apart. You see a player from the opposing team stepping out the door, trailed by the rest of his team.

A few seconds earlier, and you’d have been mortified. But Rafe takes the opportunity to kiss you again before taking your hand and pulling you through the door, past the group of guys.

“Get home safe,” Rafe mutters to them with a smirk, his tone taunting and entirely disingenuous. He spots number 33 and smiles at him with nothing but contempt.

He squeezes your hand and tilts his head towards you as the two of you walk by the sullen man.

“Looks like you lost,” Rafe half-laughs, very clearly not talking about the game.

thank you to this anon for inspiring this fic! if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

#i was gonna post a series next but i got this one-shot request and i couldn’t stop thinking about it #anyways i’ve discovered that i love college au’s?#rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #obx smut #rafe x y/n #rafe x you

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cheriladycl01 · 4 months

Text

Qatar Heat - Grid x Driver! Reader

Plot: Everyone has a hard time at the Qatar GP, most needed medical attention once the race finished, some drivers retired and some continued even though they threw up in their helmets. What happens when the female of the grid, who already struggles with body temperature regulation finishes the race?

Credit to skitskatdacat63 for the GIF

It was Thursday, which was media day in Qatar which meant that right now you were walking round the paddock in shorts and your Aston Martin Team top.

"Lance, hey are you okay?" You ask your team-mate. You'd known him since last year as the reserve driver for Aston Martin, Seb wanted you to take his place after retirement.

"Yeah, its just so hot. And Henry's still making me do training" he complains.

"I know but think we got the ice bath's later!" you grin excited to have the ice bath. After a hot day of training it was like a reward. So you did your ball exercises and you did a track run for the media team. Afterwards you were about to lay down on the track ground but it was blistering when you put your hand to it.

"Tires are gonna get shredded" you complain a little out of breath to Jessie your personal trainer.

"Can we go get water and smoothies now?" You ask and Sid one of the media guys who had followed you around today nods. You guys get out of the sun before running into the garage and collecting as many people's orders from the garage as you can.

You bring everyone back what they wanted on a tray. Sid filmed you the whole time, so he could upload it to the Tik-Tok saying that the new Aston Martin waitress is pretty cool. And another one joking that you can always fall back on waitressing if F1 falls through which you found hilarious.

"Okay, Lance Y/N. Ice bath time!" Mike Krack informs you both. You go into your driver room changing into your bikini that'd you'd brought with you. You pull the Aston Martin polo back over, feeling as though it would be odd to walk out the back of the motorhome in a bikini.

You see the cameras on you and immediately smile. You go up very close to the camera.

"Hi guys, i felt awkward coming out in just my bikini so Aston Martin Representation!" you whisper before stepping back and poking your thumbs at your top to show them what you were talking about, as if it wasn't obvious.

Looking to your left, Lando, Oscar, Alex and Logan were also all doing icebaths out the back of the motorhome too.

"Looking good boys" you shout after wolf whistling in their direction, they all laugh having finished their icebaths coming over to you and Lance.

"Come on" Alex gestures you towards the ice bath. You roll your eyes pulling the top over your head and passing it to Alex, he steps back looking at the other three boys who are shamelessly staring at you.

You were the current youngest on the grid. 21 years old, so Oscar, Logan and Lando all took a liking to you, not only because of the age similarities but because of your sense of humor.

"Ready Lance, you ask your team-mate whose shirt was just pulled off and handed to Mike who was helping the social media team.

"Lets make this interesting. First to fully submerge wins"

"That's not exactly fair your from Canada...okay your on" you shout and before anyone can blink your jumping into the ice bath. Your up to your thighs before you watch as Lance starts to sink down. Not even thinking about the cold you just force your whole body down. You can feel the cold all around your hair as it floats up and you can feel the cold water on your eyelids.

You come back up with a gasped breath before looking over at all of them.

"Who won, it was me right?" you say with your eyes blown wide as Lance emerges.

"Yes, but your fucking crazy" Lando laughs looking at the smile that comes across your face.

"Hahaha Suck that Stroll! I win" you say looking over at him.

"Ohhh you know what we should do" you say looking over at the camera that was still pointed at you.

"We should do a thirst trap of me, so people can edit me on TikTok!" you exclaim and Oscar chokes, while Logan and Land laugh as your started to lean back in the bath, running your hands through you hair.

"Y/N how many times have we talked about this" Your PR manager exclaims trying to stop the admins from filming.

"Oh come on its what they want!" You exclaim.

After that night, you went out for food, a healthy meal of course that Lance payed for as the looser of the bet.

Friday First Practice was good, you'd come in 4th just behind the two Ferrari's and Max.

Qualifying was just as good, you were starting in 4th next to Lewis, with George and Max ahead of you for Sunday's race and that was locked in. It was exhausting, you were boiling but you pushed. Lance was angry with the car performance and got angry at Henry, you were shocked to see and hear what happened when you were still driving and scolded Lance, before nearly fainting from being dizzy.

Again, you did the ice bath dinner and slept.

Now to focus on Saturdays sprint. You did well in the first two sprint shoot outs. But ended up retiring the car in Q3, starting in 9th position.

You were so faint for the whole race. Today, it was hotter than all the other days. Your fireproof felt more clingy to your skin than usual and the water in the car was heating up quicker than it normally did.

At one point during the sprint race the water was so disgusting to drink you actually spat it out in your helmet on reflex.

You finished in 8th gaining 1 point for the team who congratulated you. You stayed in the car as you pulled into the garage for a minute before you stripped of in the garage down to tank top and your underwear. You sat on the cold garage floor, head in your hands as you panted, looking for breath.

A team member brought an orange juice up to you, tapping you on the shoulder to which you shake there hand and thank them for the gesture.

You sip it slowly, not wanting to gag like you had before.

"How you doing sweetheart" Mike comes up to you, everyone in the garage had reported to him, how red and beat up you look coming out the car. You look at him and nod.

"It's always been harder for me" you laugh looking up at him wiping the sweat from your forehead before it falls down into your eye.

"What do you mean?" he asks crouching down so he's at a similar level to you.

"I mean, you've probably never checked my medical papers right. And women struggle with heat more than men anyway but my body doesn't regulate its temperate that well... so I've always struggled with being hot in the car but this is next level" you sigh to him.

"Are you going to be okay to race. We can get Drugovich to fill" Mike says concern filling his face as he can tell your struggling from the speech pattern and labored breathing.

"No i promise I'll be okay and I'll bring us home points" you smile.

I'm going to go congratulate Oscar on his Sprint win. You smile before holding you hand out for help. He helps you up and you trot over to Mclaren pulling the taller male into a hug the minute you see him.

"You did amazingly Ozzie" you grin, still holding onto him.

"Hey! I did well as well" Lando interrupts and you roll you eyes before turning to look at the man baby behind you.

"Yes yes, well done on P3 Lando Norris" you grin pulling him towards you and hugging him. He hugs you back before lifting you and squeezing you making you groan at the harshly shown affection that you were used too.

"How you feeling about tomorrow starting P4?"

"I'm hoping for a podium with my boys" you grin, pulling them both in, one arm round each of them.

"With us starting P6 and P10. I doubt that" Oscar groans, knowing he stuffed up Qualifying the other day, along with his team mate.

"Never say never. Tomorrow's going to be a hard race for everyone"

Sunday was the day that everyone struggled as you'd said.

Max actually ended up crashing out, and after coming back on the track, the car didn't have the pace it had from the start of the weekend.

"Come on Y/N, win in rookie season will look amazing. Keep holding. You've got Oscar behind 2.3 seconds gaining and Lando behind him. 3 laps left" you engineer inform.

"Guys the heat's really getting to me" you voice but its barley recognizable through the radio.

"Not long left, just push until the end" the engineer says but his voice waivers, he could tell you were struggling but unlike Logan who retired early on, lap 40 and with only three laps left there was no point especially when you were this close to a win.

"I - I know" you waiver, you control the car, speeding up trying to get this done as quickly as possible.

Martin Bundle - AND IN HER ROOKIE SEASON Y/N Y/L/N IS THE WINNER OF THE 2023 QATAR GRAND PRIX

"Guy's I need to get out this car now" you cry, tears forming in your eyes.

"Okay copy that"

"I cant move" you cry, the only thing that was able to move from your body was your hands which were shaking.

"We're sending pit crew to help" your engineer says. You see race marhsalls come up to your car, where Oscar and Land pull up alongside you. They both jump out hugging their team who were stood their waiting for them both. They turn to congratulate you thinking you'd be there next to them with the Aston Martin team but see you still sat in the car.

"Oh my god, she's shaking" Oscar says looking closer at you.

"She's in shock, from the heat" Lando says running over Oscar behind him.

"Y/N hey hey hey. Its okay its okay" Lando says flicking up your visor so he could see you. He honestly could have cried at the sight. He saw you looking so exhausted and out of it, the tears in you eyes and the sweat underneath them mixed.

"Come on baby lets get you out" Oscar voices, pulling Lando back by the shoulder and leaning down into the car, putting his arms under your knees and the other behind your back before lifting and pulling you out the car.

"Can we get a cold towel over here" Lando shouts which makes your head dizzy. Oscar sits you on the car wheel, pulling your helmet off, and then your balaclava. You were extremely red in the face but he still thought you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

So did Lando, he had for a while, and he would always flirt with you when you were the reserve Aston Martin driver. But he cared for you, and seeing you like this pulled at his heart strings.

"You did so well today darling" he compliments. He pulls back your hair that was sticking to your face, doing it in a low bun so it wasn't tight but was out of your face and off your neck.

Lando unzips your race suit, pulling it down off your shoulders so your in your fireproof top before laying the cooling towel around you neck.

"Just breath" he smiles at you handing you and Oscar an icy bottle of water than was handed to him by his team. They got you to the cool down room where you sat on the floor with your back against the wall and your cheek resting on the cold marble.

"Great race guys. Said I'd have a podium with my... my boys" you smile, before you feel the urge to throw up. You get on your knees grabbing the bin before spilling the food you'd eaten before the race into the bin. Oscar sits next to you rubbing your back.

"Come on lets go get weighed" Lando sighs. Oscar goes first, the you and Lando watches the figure seeing you'd lost a whole 6 kilograms which meant that you'd lost 9 over the whole weekend. He, Oscar and Logan would all have to go out for a big meal to all put the weight back on.

The podium was amazing, first place and sharing a podium with Lando and Oscar had never felt better. It was a shorter podium as they wanted all of you to seek medical attention. You were eventually declared to have heatstroke and were forced on home rest in a nice a/c-ed room and lost of Peach Ice Tea's.

One thing for sure was you never wanted to race in Qatar as this time of the year again.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle

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keerysfreckles · 3 months

Note

A Luke fic with a read who’s the daughters of Aphrodite and its capture the flag and she uses her charms to distract him and ends up failing bc once her team she loses they see her and Luke but he has kiss marks all over his face and she’s blushing having her lipstick smudged??

all my love — luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite fem!reader

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, making out (tehehe), petnames used (princess, babe, love), like one curse word

a/n: I. LOVE. THIS. REQUEST.

masterlist !

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

y/n was well aware how much luke loved capture the flag. she knew he always helped annabeth lead the blue team to victory. being luke's girlfriend, she also knew his every move. which explains why y/n's currently waiting in a secluded spot in the middle of the forest, in between the lake and the mess hall.

she knew luke would show up soon, on his way to get the red team's flag, the team y/n was on. but capture the flag was the last thing on her mind.

the previous night luke had just so happened to make y/n, the overly confident daughter of aphrodite, become flustered in front of luke's whole cabin. this was going to be y/n's payback.

she tossed her red horse-hair helmet to the side many minutes ago. she hated how it messed up her hair. only a few minutes go by, until she hears rustled footsteps, leaves crunching under someone's shoe.

"princess?"

y/n turns at luke's voice.

"hi handsome," she smiles, waving her fingers.

luke takes off his own helmet, holding it between his arm and waist.

"what are you doing out here? shouldn't you be gaurding your flag, or fighting someone?"

y/n only walked closer, and she could've sworn you heard luke's heart rate pick up from where she was standing.

"i wanted to see you," y/n smiled again, her voice was soft. a contrast from the loud yelling from the capture the flag game going on around the couple.

y/n now stood close enough and wrapped her hands around luke's neck, playing with the dark curls. he hated to admit it but he could sit with y/n's hands in his hair for hours.

luke's helmet fell to the ground, while he held onto her waist.

y/n knew what she was doing to luke. being the daughter of aphrodite definitely had it's perks. y/n however, was lucky. not only could she make anyone fall in love with her with the bat of an eye, she had the power to wrap any soul around her finger. the ladder was happening to luke. what? she loved teasing him.

before luke could ask anymore questions, y/n stood up on her tip toes to kiss luke's lips. he gasped, taken aback by the action, but of course he kissed back. y/n's hands only tighted on his hair as she started deepening the kiss. luke walked the two backwards, pushing y/n's back into a tree. y/n pulled her lips away from luke, but only to place another kiss at the corner of his lips, a few on his cheeks, nose and three on his neck.

luke's ears perked at the sound a horn blowing in the distance. it was chiron, standing next to clarisse with the blue flag in her hands.

"you little cheater!" luke poked y/n in her sides, "you distracted me."

y/n only shrugs, "who's to say?"

luke and y/n both make their way towards the mess hall, where they heard the horn sound coming from.

once the two apear out of the woods, percy's quick to nudge annabeth. the girl turns, and gasps so loudly that it catches the attention of the nearby campers.

"holy shit, what happened to you?" clarisse shouts in amusement from beside chiron.

"clarisse," chiron states in a lecturing tone.

"sorry, wrong time."

the campers all see y/n and luke standing beside one another. luke wasn't aware of the plethora of red lipstick stains all over his face and neck. he turned to y/n, confused as ever, and just watched as she wiped away her smudged lipstick.

"told you i'd get you back from last night."

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katsukikitten · 3 months

Text

A rambling that adds more detail to this post about hockey players Izuku and Katsuki.

It doesn't help that you're the coach's pretty little daughter of one of the best hockey teams. At every home game and nearly every away game, you're there behind the plexiglass, insisting you buy your own tickets even when your dad can get you in for free. But occasionally you'll take his offer of a free game although it usually comes with the stipulation of being shoved into one of the manager's polo's, given a clipboard, and since this happened to be an away game you'd be forced to sit on the rowdy bus for the three hour drive.

But you really wanted to watch the championship and your paycheck came in too late when the rival match finals were FINALLY announced, it didn't help that the tickets were sold out in seconds!

So you'll stand by Daddy dearest trying to look important just behind the bench inside the cramped box the team will sit in while they wait to come on and off the ice. The team of course had to arrive early and since this was an away game, you had to look every bit the part of staff as everyone else. Which meant you too had to be in the locker room while the men stripped themselves with ease. Snarling and shoving playfully in the pre game excitement, arguing over who moved who's helmet and “where the fuck are we gonna eat after we win tonight?!”

Some of them speaking lewdly off their latest piece of ass and how Bakugou “had her barkin like a bitch in heat.” Before a chorus of laughs is shared sided from a hissed “Kacchan!” followed by a rough shove into metal lockers.

It isn't until they're all pulling on their jerseys on does your dad clear his throat. Giving the speech of the century but it half falls on deaf ears. Your cheeks burn as you feel every eye on you as if they only just now realized you'd been there the whole time but two men in partial catch your eye.

Izuku, beat red under his freckles, brows furrowed as if he's embarrassed he had such a dirty mouth in front of a lady. Embarrassed of the ‘locker room talk’ and how your tight pair of jeans has his cock twitching at the thought of you barking like a bitch in heat. His gloved hand comes to grip at the nape of his neck but it does little to quell the drunken gaze he gives you, his heated cheeks morphing into pure lust. Emerald eyes slipping around the room and when he sees Todoroki staring too intently at you his glare becomes deadly. Shouto looks away and then Izuku finds another poor soul to glare at, already possessive over something that wasn't even his.

The other being a toxic bromine, smiling wolfishly palming himself roughly as he keeps eye contact with you. Strong grip with his other hand on his hockey stick as he daydreams about you. He wants you in doggy first then missionary because you're so fuckin pretty and he's dying to know what you look like when you cum. Especially when you're creaming on his cock. He's dreamt about you before, he's fucked his fist to you before and he sure as hell has knocked some asshole’s teeth out over you before. It didn't matter if it was his own teammates or the opposing team with the exception that Izuku was allowed to make an occasional comment but no more than three before the childhood rivals would be at each other's throats.

Their gaze are always a little unnerving with their intensity, almost predatory and yet it never makes you feel uncomfortable. They'd proven before that they'd protect you when push came to shove, they did four seasons ago when you first moved to the city and before anyone on the team even knew the coach had kids, let alone a daughter. The bar was crowded, it was a rival team against some other team the city happened to give less of a shit about. The players were on an off day enjoying their few hours off the ice and of course the rough men chose a bar where they could watch a fucking hockey game and shoot shit.

You'd finally found a table with a decent view of one of the many TVs and the bar so you could easily get up and get yourself a drink. But your new male coworker offered to bully his way through the players for you, ending up at the end of the bar by a bulky curly haired man and loud ass ash blonde. Getting caught up in the game and taking your eyes off your coworker but only for a moment.

“Are you trying to spike her drink?” A thick scarred hand is over one of the glasses on the bar top, your coworker flushed red.

“Huh?”

“Ya fuckin dumb?” The ash blonde reaches over the curly haired man, yanking your coworker’s tie harshly, effectively smashing the man's face into the polished wood.

“He said were ya tryin to date rape that pretty woman over there?” The blonde cocks his head in your direction, a group of eight eyes turn to look over their shoulder and then back at your shitty coworker. Who stammers, tried to get himself out of the lie before the sweetest, deadliest voice comes from the freckled sunshine boy of the team.

“Smile.” But there's nothing but malice in his eyes as he snaps the photo, immediately texting it to every bar owner he knows. (Half the city!) Your coworker fled and they offered up a seat at the bar for you but you politely declined after that they periodically glanced back to see if you left yet and if you were still okay.

So it wasn't like the only thing they wanted was to get their dick wet right?

Bedsides what probably made you super hot to them was the fact that you were the coach’s daughter, aka off limits.

Sighing as you watch them skate around the rink gracefully despite their size, Izuku and Katsuki passing to one another before taking shots at Kirishima in his full gear as they all warm up. Soon the stadium will be packed with throngs of people pressing into the glass behind you. Most of them rival fans banging on the plexi in hopes to distract or rile up the team, not realizing you'd be distraction enough.

Because all night a pair of emerald and bromine eyes will be glued to you. One giving his killer smile and the other smirking as he delivers a deadly wink.

#literally just rambling like a senile woman at this point lmfao

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flowersandbigteeth · 3 months

Note

Orc boyfriend with what he thinks is a tiny, smol mate who's so smol, so delicate, so sweet... They're actually pretty firmly built for a human, while a bit short, along with being stubborn and sassy and ready to bite heads off for their adorable XL size boyfriend.

I've got so many orc stories going right now, but you know I'm not mad about it ^_^ I love Orcs <3 There are so many different ways to write them. I have another couple of Orc asks I'm working on, as well 🥵

Orc (Cedar) x thick f reader

Word Count: 5K

Tw: sfw orc fluff, some brief descriptions of battle, brief mention of sa, size difference

More monster fluff here

“Put the stick down, sugar. We’re not going to hurt you.”

You scoffed at the soldiers circling you, their eyes dark with lust.

“We just want to have some fun,” another said, his eyes drifting over your shapely hips. “Don’t you owe us a debt of gratitude for rescuing you?”

You squeezed the iron fire poker that you had gripped in your hand.

“Rescuing me? You didn’t get your rocks off burning down the damn village?”

“It was a strategic maneuver,” the leader of the armored men said with an oily smile. “We are here to liberate you.”

“By assaulting me?” you snapped.

There was not a doubt in your mind that the second you lowered your weapon, they were going to drag you into some dark corner and act out all of the sick thoughts they had echoed on their faces.

Your King’s soldiers weren’t good guys. When they heard there was an Orc camp nearby, they couldn’t be bothered to attack it directly. Instead, they burned down your village. They said it was to prevent them from resupplying.

It was true you did business with the Orcs, who were technically your enemy, but they never acted like enemies. While big and quite scary-looking, they paid in gold and were always polite to the women running the shops. You never felt the least bit unsafe alone with one, and occasionally, they’d help you out with things that needed done– fixing roofs and cartwheels. The men of the town had all been conscripted for the war, so it mostly the ladies keeping the village afloat. The soldiers had made a whole lot of children and the elderly homeless.

“Come on, sweetie, this game is getting tiresome.”

One of the soldiers dared to approach you, and you didn’t hesitate a second, swinging your poker and smacking him so hard in the head that his helmet crunched. He collapsed on the broken boards that had once been the floor of your little noodle shop.

“Now that’s a crime!” the leader barked.

He waved to his accomplices.

“Get in there and restrain her!” Their eyes fell on the collapsed soldier, and they looked between one another, trying to sort out who was next to get a whomping.

You flexed your wrist, preparing to swing at whoever came at you next, when you heard the heavy steps of an Orc approaching. The soldiers were too inexperienced to know what that sound meant. You’d heard them approach every day at dinner time for several months. It wasn’t until he was shouldering his way through what was left of your door that they took notice.

“The enemy approaches! Your swords!”

The Orc you knew as Ash, wrinkled his brow and let out a lilting call to gather his brethren. The ground rumbled as more heavy feet ran towards you.

Wood splintered, and what remained of the ceiling creaked as they tore the walls away, making more room for a fight.

Faced with five nine-foot Orc barbarians armed with axes almost as big as their bodies, the soldiers tried to run for it. You screamed as they threatened to trample you, trying to force their way through the back wall, but they never reached you.

The Orcs didn’t need to draw their weapons, grabbing every soldier and smacking them against the ground until they stopped moving—a gruesome way to die, but practical.

When the danger was crumpled into a wet gnarl of bones and metal, their eyes turned to you. Ash said something to his friends in their own language before he stomped across the room and plucked you up like a kitten, cradling you in his arm.

“Hey, What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Quiet, little one. You’ll give us away.”

You puckered your lips at him, annoyed, as if the stomping of five tons of muscle was quiet. When you tried to wave your poker at him, he plucked it out of your hand but didn’t drop it, tucking it instead in his belt. He said something else to his friends before turning to split away from them.

You had no reason to panic. The Orcs had never harmed you, but being taken away from the group put frightening thoughts in your head, and you instinctively started screaming.

The Orc sighed, sounding tired, when four more soldiers came skidding around a corner, swords in hand. You looked up at him apologetically, smacking your hand over your mouth to stay the scream that didn’t want to stop.

He set you on the roof of what was left of a building and pat you on the head, a gesture that you read as “stay” before pulling out his axe. You weren’t going anywhere, even if you wanted to. The drop was fifteen feet down, and the stairs were just charcoal at the base of the building.

“Attack!” the leader of the soldiers shouted, but their moves in their heavy metal armor were slow. Ash swung his arm in a sweeping stroke that sliced four of them in half where they stood. The other one, eyes wide with horror, turned tail and ran.

Replacing his axe, he picked you up again and headed into the woods. This time, you had enough sense to keep quiet.

You’d never been to the Orc camp before, but you heard it before you saw it. The brassy sound of a grinder and hammers on metal rang through the trees, blended with the shouts of the Orcs in their language. There were lots of huge tents and fires spotted here and there. The camp was buzzing with activity. Orcs ran around shouting at one another, some gathering weapons, some sending groups in the direction you came. You recognized many of them as some of your customers. They often came in groups and hauled away vats of the noodle stew you sold.

A few Orcs waved at Ash but didn’t pay you much mind as he carried you to the nicest-looking tent. It had a banner outside of it with a gold bear embroidered into the fabric. Ash set you on the ground at the door and handed you your poker before patting you on the back, indicating you should go in.

“What’s in there?” you asked.

He said something in Orcish that you didn’t understand and walked away. There were too many other giants around to attempt an escape, so you pulled aside the fur covering the door and peeked inside.

“Hello?”

Your question was returned with a deep voice, smooth as a glassy pond.

“Enter, little one.”

Taking a few steps inside, you were faced with what you could only describe as the most handsome Orc you’d ever seen. His skin was a deep olive, and his hair fell over his shoulder in a long, dark sheet with small braids here and there. His tusks were large, but they seemed only to highlight how well his lips were formed. His features were harsh and defined but not unattractive, with a straight nose and deep-set gold eyes. The only thing you could point out as a flaw was a dark scar from his forehead to the right corner of his jaw.

You assumed the Orcs were blunt tools, sprinting into battle with no real plan, but this one was sitting at a high table examining maps with a book in his hand.

“I’m…I’m not sure why I’m here,” you said, brandishing your poker, though you didn’t feel like you were in any particular danger.

“I asked Ash to fetch you,” he said without looking up. “You’re the noodle shop woman.”

“My name is (Y/N), not “noodle shop woman,” and I don’t have a shop anymore. The soldiers burned it.”

He put his book down and turned his gold eyes to you.

“That’s why you’re here.”

“I don’t understand.”

His eyes drifted over you before they settled on the poker you were still holding up.

“You were feeding most of the camp. If there’s no shop to visit, you can make noodles here.”

You blinked up at him.

“Oh…Am I your prisoner?”

He chuckled.

“If you’d like to go back to your people, I won’t stop you, but judging how they burned down your village without hesitation, I think you’re safer with us.”

You had to admit that made some sense, but you still weren’t buying it.

“I can’t stay here with you!”

He tipped his head, the corner of his lip twitching up slightly.

“Why is that, little one?”

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“First of all, I’m NOT little, and second, an Orc camp is no place for a lady.”

A shudder that had nothing to do with fear shot down your spine as his eyes moved over your body. He crossed the room, scooping you up, and setting you on his table. Your feet dangled far from the ground.

“What- What are you doing?” you snapped, waving your weapon at him.

“My neck was hurting from looking down at you. You’re very short.”

The sparkle in his eyes told you he was teasing you, which drew heat to your cheeks.

“Maybe compared to you. You’re unnecessarily large. What are you doing with all of that muscle? Are you going to arm wrestle your books?” you pouted, eyes drifting to the massive bicep peeking out of the fur vest he wore.

He laughed out loud, gracing you with a wide smile.

“You’ll fit right in here.”

You raised your nose at him, trying to look unconvinced.

“Where will I even sleep? All of your tents are big and drafty.”

“Since you’ve declared your intention to court me, I wouldn’t mind if you slept here.”

“Declared my intention to— Where did you get that idea?”

He flicked a fingertip at your poker.

“In the old days, Orc females came to their males' tent and threatened them into submission with their favorite weapon.”

Your cheeks burned like hot irons, and you almost dropped it.

“Well…I’m not trying to court you. It’s for protection.”

He snorted at you but nodded his head.

“If you say so, little one, but it will be much warmer in my tent if it’s drafts you’re worried about.”

“I don’t even know your name. Ash called you something in your language. I didn’t understand…”

He examined one of the feet you had dangling over the edge of his table. Compared to his big hand, it was tiny.

“Cautalin, it means something close to general in your language, but you can call me Cedar. That’s what my mother named me.”

Your eyes traveled over his barrel chest and thick arms.

“Seems about right,” you said, finally setting your poker down.

He picked it up, looked it over, and tested the weight in his hand.

“Not a bad choice,” he said. “Light but effective.”

You glanced up at him through your eyelashes, feeling cheeky.

“Do you feel like submitting?”

You watched a flicker of heat ignite in his eyes, and he slowly set it down.

“Come on, let's get you to bed, killer.”

He picked you up again, walking you over to a large pallet covered in furs.

“This is your bed.”

He gave you another smile.

“We’re in the middle of a battle; I won't be sleeping tonight. It's all yours.”

Though you weren't quite sure about sleeping in his bed, weariness overtook you at the sight of the comfortable, cozy furs, and you crawled in, wrapping yourself up to your chin in blankets.

He put your poker next to you and blew out the candle, slipping out the front flap as you dozed.

—

You woke to yelling, but not the sound of battle. Crawling out of your furs, you picked up your poker and peeled out of the flap Cedar used as a door. Another Orc you didn't recognize was the one yelling, and Cedar had his arms crossed, looking bored.

Your eyes drifted to about twenty women, elderly, and children, cowering in the chilly morning air, their faces streaked with soot from the fire.

“They’re our enemies!” the strange Orc barked.

“Really, Asvoth? Are you really afraid of a handful of children and their mothers?”

“This is a war camp, not a nursery.”

“It's my camp, not yours. They stay.”

“I outrank you. I can take your command.”

Cedar snorted.

“Yet the King hasn't trusted you with a unit of your own. You're nothing more than an errand boy with a fancy title. Any of these children could take your job.”

Asvoth’s face turned a deep forest green from both embarrassment and indignation. He yanked the sword he wore on his back to his hand. Without thinking, you hopped in front of Cedar, waving your poker at the intruder. You had no idea why, a fact you only considered after you’d already put yourself in harm's way. Still, you'd made your move so the only thing to do was follow through.

“You heard Cedar! We’re not leaving! Get on if you know what's good for you!”

Asvoth sprung forward, dropping his sword toward your head. Your eyes squeezed shut, preparing for pain, but there was only the clang of metal. Opening one eye, you glanced up to see Cedar’s axe blocking the other Orc’s blow.

There was a moment when you thought Asvoth might overtake him, but Cedar’s muscles weren't all for show. He shoved the other Orc back, and he toppled over, landing on his butt in the dirt. His sword landed in front of the children with a CLANG.

“Woah!” the little ones cheered, circling around it like it was a strange animal.

A few of them tried to pick it up, but it was far too heavy, making their eyes pop even wider.

Cedar nodded at him, and a pair of Orcs from the camp dragged Asvoth up by the collar of his tunic, pushing him towards the forest.

“I'm reporting this!” He shouted over his shoulder as he stumbled towards the woods.

Cedar waved a hand at one of his Orcs, beckoning him closer.

“You and Orin follow him and make sure the King gets our side of the story, not his.”

When the situation seemed settled, Cedar looked down at you and patted your head.

“Thank you for your protection, little suitor,” he said with a smirk.

Your cheeks blew up in flames, but you puffed your chest and looked at the children watching Ash pick up the abandoned sword. They hopped around him like little bunnies, begging him to teach them to use it.

“I have no idea what you mean! I’m here to make noodles! Point me in the direction of my kitchen! These little mouths are probably hungry.”

He chuckled, but guided you with a large hand on your back to a large tent filled with whatever food supplies they had rescued from the village. You wrinkled your nose at the primitive workspace, but there were enough flour and eggs to work with. You were surprised to find someone had stuck in a lower table, perfect for your height. After washing your hands in a water basin, you got to cooking.

“What are you still doing here?” you asked Cedar, who had plopped down in a chair and was reading a book.

He smiled.

“Reading.”

You blinked at him, putting your floury fists on your hips. “Are you surveilling me? I’m not going to poison you all! I have to eat this too, you know.”

He tipped his head to the side, his gold eyes sparkling in the makeshift hearth.

“The sound of cooking is soothing. I liked to study in the kitchen while my mother cooked when I was a boy.”

You looked him up and down.

“I can’t imagine you as a child.”

You thought for a second, tapping your chin.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen an Orc child, actually.”

He looked back down at his book, shifting in his seat to get comfortable.

“You will,” he said as he flipped a page.

Your brow wrinkled at that nebulous statement, but you knew everyone was hungry after the long night, so you got back to work.

By midmorning, you had a stewpot big enough to feed an army filled with noodles, vegetables, and what little bit of venison the Orcs had been able to hunt between the battle.

“All done,” you said, clapping your hands and creating a puff of flour in the air.

Cedar got up and shouted something to his men, and two Orcs appeared to carry the big vat into the central circle so it could be served. You felt a sense of satisfaction when all the bowls were passed out and the children, tired humans, and bloodied Orcs were eating. The mothers spoke quietly between one another, while the children could hardly sit still, their big eyes following the Orcs every movement.

“Here.”

You looked up to find Cedar holding a bowl out to you. A grumbling stomach had you accepting it, and he patted the seat next to him for you to sit down. The two of you ate quietly for a moment before you asked him a question.

“What are you going to do with all of us?”

“Hmm?” he asked.

“Well, I mean when the battle is over. We have nowhere to go. Our town is destroyed.”

He looked at the children who, after scarfing down their bowls, were engaged in some game with Ash.

“I was hoping you would all return to our capitol city with us. That’s where we live when we’re not fighting.”

Your eyebrows jumped.

“To the Orc city? We’re humans. Don’t your people hate us?”

He shrugged.

“There are some weak minds who reveal their own fragility with their hate, but the rest of us like your kind. This whole war started because we wished to create allies amongst the humans.”

“What? The soldiers said you attacked!”

He chuckled.

“Your king has a very effective propaganda engine. That’s probably the only thing about him that is effective. We sent a delegation party to him to discuss our interest in mingling with you humans. You all are prolific; despite your size, you’re a sturdy bunch. We thought marriages would bolster our numbers and strengthen your stock. Your King attacked, and we were forced to defend ourselves. The force that attacked us was decimated, and he declared war.”

“You mean…you wish to mate with us?”

His eyes slid down to you, and he gave you a sharp nod.

“Is that so surprising?”

You thought about it for a moment.

“I don’t know…Maybe a little. You’re so strong. You’re not afraid we’ll diminish you?”

His thick hand cupped your chin and rubbed some flour away with his thumb. Your heart raced at his touch.

“Size is not what makes us strong. Our strength lies in our unbreakable bonds. Your King will be defeated, not because his forces are less than ours, but because he orders his men to betray his own people.”

He nodded towards the children, who were playing chicken fight on Ash and another Orc’s shoulders.

“They will remember it was men who burned down their village, stole their fathers from them, assaulted their mothers and Orcs who took them in, fed them, and helped them smile again.

“I suppose you’re right,” you agreed.

His smile widened.

“I will remember you took up arms to protect me against an enemy twice your size. You belong among the us.”

Suddenly the wool dress you wore was much too hot.

“I should go wash these before the next meal,” you squeaked, grabbing his empty bowl and scurrying away.

Once safe in the kitchen tent, you pressed your hand against your chest, trying to still your heart. Why did Cedar make you feel so fluttery? You’d never felt this way around anyone before. You usually kept to yourself and steered clear of romance. It had to be the battle, you decided. You were still hyped up from the night before. In a day or so, you were sure it would pass.

Dunking empty bowls in ice-cold river water helped cool your thoughts as you tried to focus on what to make for dinner. The Orcs stocks were pretty hefty, but they and the children ate a lot. You’d noticed many of the parents tipping some of their bowls into their little one’s, making sure they were fed properly in case the next meal didn’t come.

It saddened you it had to be this way. What horrible person decides to burn down their own citizens' village? Who was the King even protecting you from? Not the Orcs, that’s for sure.

A loud rabble outside dragged your attention away from the dishes, and you picked up your poker before peeking your head outside.

A few Orc scouts were speaking in rapid Orcish to Cedar. When they paused, his eyes immediately looked around for the children and frowned before he spoke to you all.

“The human King has sent reinforcements. They will close on our camp by nightfall.”

The mothers all gathered their children to their skirts, looking weary.

“Women and children to the kitchen tent! We will keep you safe, but you must stay hidden!”

You made way as a small stampede of humans rushed past you, many pushing their children to hide under the table.

“What’s happening?” You asked Cedar as people and Orcs rushed around.

He scrubbed his hand over his jaw, looking disturbed.

“Someone ran back to your King with a story that we’d kidnapped you, not taken you in from starving in a burnt-down village. We will win this fight, but then we will have to make the journey back to the capitol. They will keep attacking if they think you’re within their grasp. Do you think you can explain this to your people? We don’t intend to take anyone by force, but I wouldn’t trust the King’s soldiers.”

“Yes, of course. Whatever you need.”

You hurried back to the kitchen, where the humans were muttering to one another.

“Should we flee to the forest?” Isla, the former town candlemaker, asked. “Can we depend on the Orcs to protect us?”

Another woman scoffed.

“We can’t trust anyone. These Orcs are kind now, but they’ll sell us out at the drop of a hat.”

Linda, a quiet woman who worked as a weaver, whimpered.

“But we’ll starve in the forest alone. Word is the King’s men have raized every town for fifty miles!”

You inserted yourself into the conversation, holding up your hands.

“No one needs to escape to the woods. The Orcs are going to take us back to their capitol to keep us safe.”

Linda squeaked in horror.

“The Orc capitol?! Where they can enslave us?!”

“They have no plan to enslave you. Don’t you want your children to be safe? We will be safe behind their walls!”

“Or…when the King takes the city we’ll all be hung as traitors!”

“Shawna, don’t put that in her head. Linda, we’ll be fine. I trust Cedar.”

You paused on that thought, realizing not only was it true, it didn’t make any sense. You’d only just met him. Your conversation was interrupted by the shouting of men outside.

“We’ll talk about this later,” you hissed, “Here, take this.”

You armed the humans with whatever haphazard weapons you could find, mostly butcher knives and skillets.

Outside, you could hear the clang of weapons and the squelching sounds of metal piercing flesh.

“What's happening?” Linda asked, trying to get around you so she could peek out of the tent flap.

“Stay back!” You barked. “If they see us, we’re in trouble!”

You could tell she was losing it, hopping from one foot to another, her hands getting slippery on her knife.

“No, no, no,” she whimpered. “I don’t want to go with the Orcs. Even a human monster is better than them!”

Before you could grab her, she skipped through the doorway, running wildly into the fray. The other humans gathered around you, their opinions spilling out like loose marbles.

“What is she thinking?!”

“Linda, come back!”

“Let her go, she’s nuts.”

You clenched your jaw, squeezing your iron poker.

“She’s scared. I’ll go get her…you all stay put!”

Before anyone could stop you, you darted after her, trying to catch sight of her red skirt through the mess of armour-clad humans and massive Orcs. The King had sent a much larger force than the one that had burned down your village. The battle around you was brutal. You almost slipped on a puddle of blood, your eyes frantically searching for Linda.

You found her pointing her knife with shaking hands at a human soldier.

“What are you doing? I’m a human, too!”

“The King ordered you all dead!” he snarled, raising his sword at her. “No witnesses! Come on, do your duty to the kingdom, and die quietly!”

Panicking, you launched yourself at him, whacking him with your poker as you barreled into him. The two of you went down, metal clashing as you fell and dropped your weapons. Both of you scrabbled for purchase in the blood-soaked earth. You could hear Linda screeching beside you as you tried to overpower the soldier. His armor, now slick with mud, made it impossible to get a hold of him, and he triumphantly dragged himself to his sword, clumsily grabbing it by the blade and flinging it in your direction. You saw the metal flash in the firelight before pain exploded between your eyes, and your vision went black.

—

“Please tell me she’s not dead,” you heard Linda’s voice from far away.

Isla scoffed.

“You’d better hope she’s not, Linda. This is all your fault!”

“I'm sorry!” she simpered, “I made a mistake! I thought the soldiers were here to free us!”

“Free us from what? A good meal and a safe place to sleep?”

You dragged your eyelids open, vision blurry for a moment before it cleared.

“What…what happened?” you murmured.

“She’s awake!” Isla gasped.

You felt her cool hands against your cheek.

“Take it slow, here; have some water.”

She pushed a tin cup into your hands, and you wet your palette with a few sips. Looking around, you were surrounded by the humans, all looking very concerned.

“Is everyone okay?” you asked.

Isla smirked, and the other women tittered a bit.

“Thanks to you, I suppose. That chieftain or warlord or whatever saw you get knocked in the head and went berzerk. He killed most of the soldiers all by himself.”

Another woman poked her head out of the tent.

“She’s okay! You guys can untie him!”

“Untie who? Is the battle over?”

Isla nodded.

“Yeah, all the soldiers are dead. We’ve all been waiting for you to wake up so we can move the camp before the King sends anymore. Can you believe he ordered them to kill us? I guess so he could claim the Orcs did it and get more support for the war.”

She smirked at you.

“And as for who's tied up, your Orc friend thought you were dead. The others had to tie him up so he wouldn’t go on a rampage. He was ready to storm the King’s stronghold! You ought to see the ropes they had to use…thick as your waist!”

You heard the roll of stomping feet, and Cedar burst through the tent flap. His hair was wild, and his tunic was red with blood. He fell to his knees in front of you, holding his hands as if he couldn’t decide if you were safe to touch.

“Are you okay?” he asked, carefully prodding the bandage you had wrapped around your head. “That monster didn’t do any permanent damage, did he?”

“She’ll have a scar,” Isla said, “but I think she’s fine.”

Cedar’s face lightened, pulling you towards him, his big arms wrapping around you.

“Thank the goddess,” he sighed with a heavy breath. “I thought they’d taken you from me.”

He cupped your cheeks between his palms when he finally let you go.

“You are so stupidly brave, little one,” he gasped, eyes wet. “You have more honor than your people deserve.”

Behind him, Isla waved the women out of the tent, leaving the two of you alone. Not used to so much intimate attention, your cheeks warmed, and you weren’t sure where to look.

“I just didn’t want Linda to get hurt,” you muttered.

He gave you an odd smile, scooping you out of the cot you’d woken up in.

“Once I get you to our home in the capitol, I’m going to have to keep you locked up for your own safety,” he said, patting your head.

You looked up at him from where you were tucked, leaning on his bicep.

“Our home?”

He grinned at you, counting on his fingers.

“First step to Orc courting: Threaten your desired with your weapon. Done. Step two: Allure them with your cooking skills, cooking or hunting something delicious. Done. And the final step: Display your honor through a grand act of bravery. Done! You’ve effectively and thoroughly seduced me, little one! All that’s left is to take you home!”

He tipped your chin up with one thick finger and dipped his head to press his lips against yours. Your whole body felt like it was made of butterflies, every nerve flickering with excitement. Despite being covered in blood and mud, his kiss tasted like honey and sage. It felt like a warm cup of tea on a chilly morning. Your eyelashes fluttered shut and you sank into his warmth, despite yourself, happy to be alive and in his arms.

“Oh!” you gasped as he straightened his neck.

Your mouth fell open, unsure what to say. Before you could think of anything, Cedar carried you out of the tent, shouting orders at his men to pack up the camp so you could leave for the capitol.

#monster x girl #orc x reader #monster x reader #x reader #yandere x reader #soft yandere #orc boyfriend #monster romance #monster fluff #male yandere #yandere fluff #yandere romance #monster boyfriend #orc #orc romance

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wyniepooh · 4 months

Text

Miss

coriolanus misses his family and the many capitol luxuries, but the person he misses the most, is right here in the districts.

peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x district reader. Forbidden love, sneaking around, tension. Mentions of guns! Corio has to pretend nothing is going on between him n the reader, tries to do a professional pat down on reader, but obvi does a little more bc he’s kinda obsessed.

"excuse me, miss."

your shared laughter with a local salesman dissipated as quickly as how it had originally started. the air around you seemed to chill, although the sun was still as present as ever, providing a warmth your thin sweater couldn't compare with.

you turned around, breath hitching when you focused on the familiar blue eyes you were just staring into a couple nights ago. His pristine grey uniform contrasted with the wrinkled, blue outfit you usually saw him in, and you almost giggled at how serious he looked. your lips began to curve, and your feet were moving before he could say another word.

"cori-"

"we're here for our regular checkup. making sure you don't have any illegal substances or dangerous objects on hand."

you paused in your steps, breathing out a gentle 'oh’ while the brightness on your face dimmed. coriolanus turned to another peacekeeper behind him, giving him a nod to approach the old man behind you. while he began lazily patting down the man, coriolanus placed a light hand on your forearm.

"follow me," he whispered.

You trailed behind him, observing the firm grip he had on his gun, and the confident strides he had with his black boots and solid helmet. It was hard to believe that this was a man you had shared endless laughs with, a man you've felt breathlessly on your lips, your chest, and on your neck.

He halted when he reached a curved wall a few feet away from his comrade, giving him one last look before breathing a sigh of relief. He turned towards you, letting the gun strap fall from his shoulders and resting the bottom on the ground.

"Turn around and face the wall."

Your brows furrowed and your mouth fell agape.

You had thought he was taking you somewhere private, somewhere you could both be alone and finish your conversation from last night. But hearing his stern words echo, it was clear that that was not in his plans.

Seeing your shocked expression, he silently tilted his chin back towards a group of more serious-looking peacekeepers standing guard behind him, guns aimed and eyes searching for sight of anything— a trick, a mishap, an accident.

Anything that would give them an opportunity to warm up their weapons.

You sighed, gently rolling your eyes as you turned away from coriolanus, stepping closer to the gray, concrete wall. You heard his footsteps approaching behind you, slow and a little hesitant.

"Hands on the wall," he muttered.

You almost jumped when you heard his voice, which was surprisingly close to your ear and oh-so-reminiscent. You tilted your head with annoyance, but complied, resting both of your palms on the cold, gritty surface above your head.

You felt his hands on your shoulders first. They did a quick, professional sweep over both your arms and hands before traveling down your back. He paused at your waist, both hands cupping the curvature, his thumb rubbing circles at the tender flesh of your hip.

"I miss you," he breathed.

So quietly, so faintly that you would've missed it had you not been completely still.

You wanted to reach back, to see his face and to relax your hand on his. But you could feel too many pairs of eyes on you to do what you truly wanted.

"I miss you, too,” you responded in the same, hushed, tone.

coriolanus began to crouch down, his warm breath hitting your thigh when he did so. Shivers spread from your shoulders to your toes, your bottom lips slipping between your teeth as your nails dug into the wall.

He dragged his hands down both of your legs, slower than what was acceptable, hands lingering on your ankle for longer than needed. time didn’t exist in the moment. you closed your eyes and relished in the comfort of his warm hand, imagining that you were both back on the dance floor, his arm around your waist, your arms around his neck.

A single finger dragged up the side of your body as he finally stood up. You were both quiet for a second. Suddenly, he exhaled sharply, patting the small of your waist to signal for you to turn.

As you did, you were almost afraid to look into his eyes. Afraid that once you did, you wouldn't be able to look away. but when your eyes finally did connect, he looked the same as he did last night. He was the coriolanus from last night. he opened his mouth to speak, but was stopped by a sudden smack on the back.

"all done, private snow?"

coriolanus turned and saluted, gloved hand hitting the hard material of his helmet. "yes, sir."

The higher up stood in silence while giving you a quick scan, mouth twisted like he had just eaten something sour. After a suffocating minute, he finally spoke again. "Alright. Gather the others and return to your quarters for further instructions."

coriolanus saluted him again, eyes finding yours again only when the commander had long disappeared beyond your vision.

but once he did, his previous gaze returned. Blue eyes glossy, lips parted and hands clenching the strap of his gun so tightly his knuckles turned white. He swerved his head cautiously towards the peacekeepers, you joining him in observation.

He looked back with only one intention in mind.

He captured your breath in an instant, both of his hands cupping the side of your face while his thumb grazing the bottom of your chin. His helmet sunk painfully into your forehead, but that only motivated you to push your lips further into his. You placed a hand on his chest, fingers clenching and grasping at the fabric of his shirt.

The moment was over before it had really even started.

He pulled back abruptly, eyes still closed and mouth still hungry. You gently opened your eyes, squinting as you adjusted to the bright sunlight. Coriolanus' lips were swollen and wet, red from the sudden and brutal force and shiny from the remnants of you. His chest heaved up and down. He slowly backed away.

"See you next time, miss,” he sputtered, breath still wavering. He looked away. With a twirl and a cloud of sand, he had marched away.

"Next time," you muttered to his shadow.

You sighed, stepping away from the corner and out into the open market once more. You took a few steps, and then your strides faltered.

With furrowed brows, you reached down to your shoe. A combination of a gasp and a chuckle escaped your mouth when you pulled out a square of neatly folded paper from the back of your heel.

Miss you. Need you. Midnight, tonight. Meet me at our spot.

A/n: im a sucker for forbidden love anything lolz!!

#wyniepooh #coriolanus snow x you #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x you #corio snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus smut #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus snow #coryo x reader #coryo snow #coryolanus snow #coryo smut #coriolanus x y/n #coriolanus snow x female!reader #cor

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