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old-lorarri · 5 months

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꒰꒰ ‧₊˚𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐀 𝐒𝐄𝐂 ─ 𝐌𝐕𝟏 ˚₊· ꒱꒱

─ summary . . . ❨ max loves to stay camped out in his rival’s comments to attempt to rizz you up ❩ ─ pairing . . . ❨ max verstappen x fem! ferrari! f1 driver! reader ❩ ─ genre . . . ❨ social media file ❩ ─ author note . . . ❨ dame this is the longest fic I have done in a while and it took soooo long so I hope you guys like it enjoy! ❩

❨ taglist | masterlist ❩

yourinstagram

liked by maxverstappen1 charles_leclerc 98,709,231 others

yourinstagram 🇸🇬 you will always be famous

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user waiting for max's comments...

user Y/N THIS WIN WAS SO FUCKING SEXY 🥵

maxverstappen1 Do you like raisins? How do you feel about a date? ⤷ yourinstagram I hate dates.... ⤷ maxverstappen1 ....so is that a yes?

maxverstappen1 Hey, my name’s Microsoft. Can I crash at your place tonight? ⤷ yourinstagram how about you crash at turn one?

maxverstappen1 Aside from being sexy, what do you do for a living? ⤷ yourinstagram beat your ass at racing ⤷ user YOU TELL HIM QUEEN 👸

user someone one let the white boy out again 🙄

user dear god watching max flirty with my wife is so painful 😭😭

user I don't wait for the reaces anymore I wait for Y/N's ig posts to see Max's piss poor attempt at flirting 🤭

user mommy?

user someone teach this man how to flirt 💀

user so we are all here to watch max attempt to flirt right? ⤷ user yup👌

user singapore you will always be famous 😘

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yourinstagram

liked by maxverstappen1 landonorris 78,912,456 others

yourinstagram p4 in 🇯🇵

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maxverstappen1 If I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put ‘U’ and ‘I’ together. ⤷ yourinstagram do you not know your abc's?

maxverstappen1 Are you a parking ticket? Because you’ve got FINE written all over you. ⤷ yourinstagram are you an f1 car? cuz you have 5 SECOND TIME PENALTY written all over you

maxverstappen1 Do you believe in love at first sight—or should I walk by again? ⤷ yourinstagram I would rather lap you on the track thanks

user this mf has post notification on 😭

user max is like us fr 💀

user I want someone to be obsessed with me the way max is obsessed with Y/N 😔

user Y/N served us cunt again in the race as expected 💅

user Y/N's responses to max trynna rizz her have me DYING 😭💀

user okay but max dedicated af the fact he has been trynna rizz my girl since the start of the season 😭 ⤷ user kinda sad tbh... ⤷ landonorris I know right? ⤷ maxverstappen1 your one to talk 🙄 ⤷ maxverstappen1 also it's not sad it's called dedication 😌

user ate. iconic. serverd cunt. devoured. mother.

user at this rate I'm gonna be 105 when Y/N and Max get together 💀

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THE DUTCH SIMP congrats on the win! you looked mighty fine on the podium once could say you were a cute-cumber 😉

THE SEXY ITALIAN .....

THE DUTCH SIMP back to the drawing board?

THE SEXY ITALIAN yup 👍

THE DUTCH SIMP damn it but dw I'll be back 🫡

THE SEXY ITALIAN can't wait 😝

yourinstagram

liked by maxverstappen1 lewishamilton 57,381,573 others

yourinstagram p5 in 🇶🇦

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user dame I actually commented ahead of max verstappen 🫣

maxverstappen1 Well, here I am. What are your other two wishes? ⤷ yourinstagram go away

maxverstappen1 If you were a chicken, you’d be impeccable. ⤷ yourinstagram are you calling me an angry brid?

maxverstappen1 Feel my shirt. Know what it’s made of? Boyfriend material. ⤷ yourinstagram see my race suit that's championship material

user I admire max's dedication 😭

user tough race and yet my queen still did AMAZING 👏🏼

user at this point Y/N's comment section is more entertaining in than the race 💀

user yo lewishamilton help this guy find some rizz 😔 ⤷ lewishamilton he is beyond help...

user god can you two please just get together already 😤

user Y/N and max are my roman empier ✊🏼

user oh max stop googling shit pick up lines and get some actually rizz 😭

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yourinstagram

liked by maxverstappen1 georgerussell63 45,892,453 others

yourinstagram 🇺🇸 austin p3

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maxverstappen1 Did your license get suspended for driving all these guys crazy? ⤷ yourinstagram no cuz I kept running people off the road

maxverstappen1 Baby, if you were words on a page, you’d be fine print. ⤷ yourinstagram what a waste of ink

maxverstappen1 Did you just come out of the oven? Because you’re hot. ⤷ yourinstagram are you calling me burnt?

user Y/N is stronger than me cuz if Max Verstappen flirted with me I would have folded like paper 😭

user dear god max not even lando is this bad 😵‍💫 ⤷ landonorris I don't know if this is a complement or an insult.. ⤷ user both.

user god this slow burn is gonna kill me 💀

user Y/N denial is a river in eygpt 😭😭

user #saveY/N 😔

user #findmaxsrizz 😌

user max's rizz is more long gone than my dad 😭😭

user someone needs to force Y/N to go on a date so max can stop doing this madness for the sake of everyone's sanity 🫣

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THE REAL LATINA (NOT CARLOS) how much?

THE REAL FERRARI LADY (NOT CHARLES) ???

THE REAL LATINA (NOT CARLOS) me and christian are willing to pay you to go on a date with m cuz the team can't handle him talking about you all the time anymore I think if helmut hears your name one more time he might drop dead

THE REAL FERRARI LADY (NOT CHARLES) is that really a bad thing?

THE REAL LATINA (NOT CARLOS) not really but we move PLEASE JUST ONE DATE AND IF HE DOES ANYTHING DUMB I'LL RUN HIM OFF THE TRACK

THE REAL FERRARI LADY (NOT CHARLES) i'll think about it...

yourinstagram

liked by maxverstappen1 oscarpiastri 87,536,013 others

yourinstagram 🇲🇽 🇧🇷 you have been good to me p3 & p4

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maxverstappen1 I was feeling a little off today—but you’ve turned me on again! ⤷ yourinstagram ....and I needed to know this cuz

maxverstappen1 Anyone who says Disneyland is the happiest place on Earth has clearly never stood next to you! ⤷ yourinstagram dame, this one almost made me smile ⤷ maxverstappen1 PROGRESS PEOPLE PROGRESS

maxverstappen1 Are you a magician? Because when I’m looking at you, you make everyone else disappear! ⤷ yourinstagram you houdini or what?

user someone need's to log max out of his ig 💀

user god max is such a dork 😭

user Y/N's come back always serve 🫡

user it's giving golden x black cat

user my parents 😍

user this man doens't know how to give up does he

user max need to be studied in a lab for this 😲

user this barbie is obssesed your honnor 😝

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yourinstagram . 4hrs ago

seen by schecoperez christianhoner 65,870,812 others

yourinstagram

liked by maxverstappen estebanocon 76,268,813 others

yourinstagram so close to a win but we'll take p2 in vegas 🇺🇸

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maxverstappen1 Are you a camera? Because I look at you and smile! ⤷ yourinstagram okay not bad...

maxverstappen1 Is your dad a boxer? Because you’re a knockout! ⤷ yourinstagram no. my dad love's me unlike some people...

maxverstappen1 Any chance you have an extra heart? Mine’s been stolen! ⤷ yourinstagram hope you find it soon

user god help me i'm gonna lose my mind rn

user max just ask her out and stop asking the poor girl riddles 😭

user this man flirts like he is from shakspears era 💀

user this is why women do it better 😌

user I'm surpised Y/N hasn't driver her car into this guy 😅

user Impressive how verstappen is still breathing

user I smell a couple cookin 😮‍💨

user enemies to lover tease fr

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yourinsatgram

liked by maxverstappen1 charles_leclerc 56,241,982 others

yourinsatgram 🇦🇪 for one last time p2 see you next year

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maxverstappen1 I think there’s something wrong with my phone. Your number’s not in it. ⤷ yourinstagram there is a reason for everything

maxverstappen1 Are you a charger? Because I’m dying without you! ⤷ yourinstagram simple. electriction.

maxverstappen1 Even in zero gravity, I would still fall for you! ⤷ yourinstagram let's test that by throwing u off a cliff

user thank god this car can finally go in the scrap pile 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

user kinda sad this flirting saga is ending 😢

user MAX A WHOLE YEAR AND YOU STILL AIN'T BAG YA GIRL 🙄🙄🙄

user dw folks he's still got summer break to make a move 👍

user bro acting like Y/N didn't soft launch recently 😭

user max is me (delulu af)

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yourinstagram . 2hrs ago

seen by lewishamilton landonorris 76,298,145 others

─ requested by . . .

@struggling-with-delia ─ Hi, I saw your requests were open, and I honestly loved what you've written so far. I have a small idea for a thing.Max Verstappen trying to win over Reader, except this man has no rizz, and it's just painful for everyone else to watch, and yet somehow this foolish man manages to endear himself to Reader

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peyton-warren · 1 year

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Writing Questions Tag Game!

Belated, but tagged by @darsynia, thanks, hon!!

What is your absolute all-time favourite idea you’ve ever had?

As cheesy as it sounds, I will have to say Blinded by the Fog is my all time favorite idea to date. Its a perfect combination of my two current fandoms and where I am in life and in my mental health journey. i was kind of wandering through fanfic until i got the prompt that inspired it - "You are the wife of a soldier who is missing in action and presumed dead. His best friend, who survived the war, offered you comfort and companionship, and over time love blossomed. A year later, you learn that your husband is alive and is coming home. Now you must confess to him that you have moved on—or have you?"- and its all my brain wants to focus on right now. its almost taking over my life, and I'm kind of okay with that. I'm trying to stay away from tropes but at the same time embracing the ones that are part of this story organically. The three main characters really keep surprising me with what happens, and I'm not sure how its going to end to be completely honest even though I have started the Epilogue.

Is there a question you’ve been asked in the past that really stands out to you and you still think about sometimes?

"Why are you cockblocking your own characters?" was a question I got from a fellow writer years ago when she read a draft I wrote and was struggling with the smut portion of it. And because of her pushing me, the completed chapter was some of the hottest stuff I've ever written. I still think of that phrase when I'm struggling with my own brain while writing fic, especially sexy times. I have minimal self-assurance that my writing is any good and often need someone else to validate it before I post or even write an idea I have.

What is your favourite part of being a writer? What parts could you take or leave?

I love putting what I see in my brain down on paper, to see the story and the dialog play out on paper.

The parts I can take or leave is the self worth i struggle with in regards to my writing (it stems beyond that but the question is about writing). I always need validation from someone else its good, worth posting etc, even though I'm the first person to tell someone else to post their writing. Brains are hard and weird.

Another part I'd like to leave is taht the number of reblogs, comments, kudos, recognition of any kind = my writing's worth. Ugh I hate that feeling.

What is your greatest motivation to write/create?

I love writing, i love creating, i love bringing to life the lives of these characters outside the stories we already know about them.

What do you wish you knew when you were first starting out writing?

That writing anything and everything will make me a better writer. That everyone sucks when they start anything. That I dont have to be stellar to have people want to read what I'm writing. And that pushing my characters to fit into an outline I wanted them to follow would result in stalled stories, that wouldn't go anywhere. Its how Two Brothers Walk Into A Bar petered out. I tried to force a relationship that neither character wanted and as much as I loved that story it didn't move forward from that point.

What is your favourite story you’ve written TO COMPLETION? Link it if you’d like and can!

Days of Our Freakin' Camp is my favorite story that I've written to completion. What started out as a drabble grew grew and grew into this 20 chapter story that took me and the readers for a ride along the way. I didn't plan out how it was going to go, it just happened. and I'm so proud of how it turned out.

What is your favourite out-of-the-box quote?

The drugs he had picked up on Whitefall. The ones he was careful to take for fear the others would notice a change in him. Jayne had no choice. He wanted to maintain that he was indeed human and not the monster he had become long before he came to Serenity. The bear reminded him of the human he used to be. Someone with a beating heart who actually felt emotion. Not this cold hearted creature that sat in his bunk, wishing it would all go away.

Which of your characters would you say has the most controversial mindset? Why do you say so and how do you personally feel about their ideals?

Merle Dixon was the hardest for me to write, even though I grew up around people like him and have been around folks of the same small minded mind set most of my life. The more i struggle with my own demons to not be a pushover and just let people have their opinions of the world around us, the more difficult it is to write people like Merle.

If you, when you first started writing, met you now, what would younger you think?

that I am an amazing writer who needs to have more confidence in myself and my writing.

No pressure tags (but I'd love to see your thoughts)- @adulting-sucks, @ronearoundblindly, @joannaliceevans-fanficblog, @geralts-yenn, @raccoon-eyed-rebel, and @jvanilly and @sarahdonald87 - even though I know you two haven't published anything yet.

#tag game #writers tag game #writers of tumblr

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smallandsundry · 4 years

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heady empty, only arm, smalls smallious 2020

this is lowkey another sparring thing for chapter 1 of @fiddleabout‘s excellent tomb raider au

#pyrrha nikos #yang xiao long #greekfire #bees schnees #sometimes i draw stuff #this is going to post while i'm away camping with my wife and i wish you all arm and also a wife to go camping with if you're into that #yes i am aware this is boxing and not mma and it is for the very complicated artist reason of Hands Hard Smalls Lazy

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waiting4inspiration · 3 years

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Hefna XV: Gildi

Summary: You talk to Alke about her being chosen to be an envoy and you can tell that this event has given your people hope. Ivar takes thing a bit too far.

Warnings: angst, strong language, small fluff, mentions of death, mentions of a war, I know that Ivar's not everyone's favorite in this fic but I promise that when I'm done posting this fic we'll move on to something where he's a nice person

Word Count: 2,664

Hefna Masterlist II Vikings Masterlist

“Vidar will not give us any longer to recover from the last attack. We must muster up as much strength as we can for the next fight,” Bjorn mentions, glancing around to each person around the war table. He leans forward on his hands, his gaze lingering on Ivar for a while longer to make sure he understands the urgency of his words, only to find him staring at you.

You keep your gaze on your hand entwined with Estadir’s, too scared to make eye contact with Ivar after what happened. You have yet to tell Estadir, but wonder if it is something you best keep to yourself because you are unsure what he would do. You don’t want him killing Ivar.

With Alke now back and a restored faith in your people, the plans for Skapanir went quickly. It’s now only a matter of when the attack will be.

“We must attack when he least expects, when he still thinks we are weak,” Bjorn mentions, earning a nod from Ivar. Bjorn can relax slightly, knowing now that Ivar has his mind focused on this war rather than on something like you.

Ivar shifts in his spot, tears his stare away from you and glances down at the table. “We should attack tomorrow. At dawn,” he states, looking up at Estadir and waiting for a protest or a reason not to attack tomorrow. A reason like the ritual that prevented them from attacking the last time.

Instead, Estadir nods in agreement and looks down to you at his side. You look up at him, bite your lip and nod your head. “We lost the last battle because we underestimated their numbers,” Estadir says, looking back to Ivar and you keep your gaze on him. “We should do the same to them.”

Ivar thinks about it for a moment, licking his lips and agrees to the idea with a nod. “What do you have in mind?” he asks.

Seeing that you are no longer needed here because you know that you won’t be fighting again, you let go of Estadir’s hand and take a step back. “I’m going to check up on Alke,” you whisper, earning a nod from him and a gentle smile.

You make the mistake of looking up to Ivar, catch his gaze for a second before turning to walk away. Estadir turns back to face Ivar, leans forwards with his hands on the table and clears his throat. “If you let me and my men go first, we can set up a distraction so your men can attack when they do not expect it,” Estadir speaks, making Ivar look away from where you had walked out of and back to him.

Walking through the hall where your people have made a temporary residency, seeming the smiles on their faces makes your heart light. And when you see Alke walking among them, speaking to them as you would speak to them as the voice of Virheia.

Something deep inside you tell you that this is good. In this time of strife for your people, they need to hear the voice of Itris and that will come through Alke. They need healing for their broken hearts from the Goddess of Healing.

You pick up a basket of bread that has been given graciously from the local baker to feed your people, walk up to Alke’s side and start handing out loaves to your people. “Is this how it normally feels after being chosen by a God?” she asks in a small voice as she turns her head to you.

As you look up at her, you have to hold back a gasp at the sight of the healed scar across the face. It’s Itris’ doing, you know that. Still, you give her a small smile and turn with her to walk across the room to another group of your people. “That feeling of something else flowing in your veins?” you question, making her chuckle and drop her head between her shoulders as she smiles to herself. “Yes. It always feels that way when a God chooses you,” you mention, gently handing a man a loaf of bread as you pass him, making sure to give him a reassuring smile even though you know he has lost his wife.

“Did you see Virheia when she chose you?” Alke questions, making your head turn to her and you see her staring off into the corner of the Hall.

Placing the basket down, you step in front of the healer and reach out to take her hands, causing her eyes to shift over to you. As you look into her eyes, you see fright. “I did. And Estadir saw Dedon when he was chosen. But, Itris doesn’t use her envoys the way the other Gods do,” you speak, giving her hands a slight squeeze as if to reassure her that things will be okay. “She doesn’t choose her envoys like the other Gods either.”

Those words make her laugh and she steps to your side to start walking toward the door, a hand timidly reaching up to touch the magically healed scar on her face before it drops to her chest. “I wasn’t dead, but I wasn’t alive either. And she reminded me of my mother because of how caring, how loving her voice was. How loving her voice is,” she starts, leaning against the door as she folds her arms over her chest. “She told me that we have work to do. And I know, something deep inside me knows, that there’s going to be more death, more healing that needs to be done. And, it scares me,” she confesses, dropping her head to stare at the ground as she bites on her lower lip.

You sigh, stand beside her and look out to the roofs of the houses. “I’m scared too. We’re all scared. But, we also have hope,” you say, her head turning up to you again. And you realize that this healer standing beside you is no longer like a daughter to you as your role of the mother of the tribe. Because she is not an envoy of the Goddess of Healing, she is now like your sister.

“How can you know that there’s hope?” Alke questions, making you smile and move to turn her around to face what remains of your family.

“Because of them and the look on their faces,” you whisper, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder as you gesture out to your family. “Itris choosing you as her envoy, her first in years, has reassured them that the Gods haven’t completely abandoned us,” you add, looking over at her and watching a smile slowly starting to grow on her face.

She’s understanding more now why she was chosen. And just like Estadir was there for you when you were chosen by Virheia, Alke knows she’ll have you to help her out with all this.

In a way, Ivar didn’t want the plans for the next battle to be finalized because he knew that then you and Estadir would go through the same ritual that might ensure you starting a family, therefore taking away his chance of making you see why you should rather be with him.

But, it was all out of his hands.

He can’t stop the temporary move your people make into the woods close to the city - by now Ivar’s learned that any ritual done to your Gods has to be done outside - and he can’t stop this setup for the ritual.

Maybe there is something he can do, he thinks to himself as the sun starts to set, darkening the sky. He still has your pendant of Yggdrasil from that time in Nork. And maybe, he should tell you how he truly feels about you.

With the thought that he might be able to change your mind, he walks into the tent that was set up for you a bit away from where the ritual will take place.

There’s a certain smell in the tent, one that Ivar’s never come by. It’s sweet and soft. Rich smelling, but it has a calming effect on Ivar making him take a deep breath and holding it for a while before he breathes it out. Then he looks for you.

You stand in one corner of the tent, your back facing Ivar as you whisper foreign words in the language of what Ivar’s come to know is that of your Gods. In your hands, you hold something that he’s only seen when he’s in the Seer’s tent - a bundle of herbs he has never seen, smoldering at the end and filling the air with smoke and the distinct scent.

When you turn around when your white owl screeches and see Ivar, a gasp catches in the back of your throat and you lower the smudge stick slightly. He stares at the pain on your face. Is it possible for you to seem more fierce with it on now than when he first met you?

“What are you doing here, Ivar?” you ask in a small voice, gently placing the herbs on the table beside you but never taking your eyes off him.

He starts to walk towards you, keeping his crutch close to his body. “I need to talk to you,” he says, just as soft as you have spoken before, walking closer and closer to you.

You breathe out a deep sigh and drop your head between your shoulders. “Now is not a good time for that-”

“I think it is the perfect time,” he cuts you off, standing in front of you and reaching up to take your chin between his thumb and index finger to lift your gaze up to him again. “If I do not say it now, I will lose you forever,” he whispers, holding your face so you don’t look away from him as a shadow passes outside.

“I am in love with you.” You shake your head at his word, try to stop him but he doesn’t allow you to. “I want you to be mine instead of his. I can give you everything you want, take you across the sea to the lands you wish to explore. Those places on those maps you have, I can take you there. I can make you a queen.”

And then, he presses his lips to yours, kissing you gently and moving his hand to cup the side of your face.

It’s at that moment that Estadir walks into your tent, a smile on his face because of the smell that hit him the moment he pushes the flap aside. But that smile falls the moment he sees what’s before him. You, the love of his life, kissing the man he’s been wary of from the moment he came into his camp. And instead of rushing forward to pull the King away from you and losing his temper, he steps back out of the tent and seethes in wrath outside. It’s a pity he doesn’t have a weapon on him…

Then he hears you speak.

“No,” you say, quite loudly as you push away from Ivar. “You do not love me, Ivar. You barely know me compared to how Estadir knows me. You’re just...infatuated with me.” Ivar shakes his head, trying to fight back but you hold up a hand to stop him and make him listen to you as you carry on. “I could never love anyone else the way I love Estadir. It took our whole lives for our love to grow to where it is now. And I hope, one day you find someone who you love as Estadir loves me, and who loves you the way I love him. But that person is not me.”

Ivar stands, baffled at your words and with his eyes still staring at you. “We’re from two completely different worlds. And when we part ways, in time, you will forget about me,” you mention, turning and walking away from him towards the exit of the tent.

“I will never forget you,” he says to you over his shoulder, making you stop in your tracks and stand silent for a while.

You take a deep breath through your nose, close your eyes when you hear the drums starting to beat in a steady beat outside, and then turn your gaze back to Ivar. “Then you will grow to be bitter and watch the life you could have had fade away from you.” You turn to face him again, your eyes slightly narrow as you fold your arms over your chest. “You have someone who would give anything for you to just notice her, pay her the attention that’s wasted on me, and your obsession with me has made you blind to it,” you say, making him frown at your words and shift on his feet to turn around. “And now, you might have lost the chance to win Alke’s heart.”

With that, he doesn’t say anything. He’s still trying to comprehend your words and mention of Alke possibly feeling something for him and he hadn’t noticed. You’ve never spoken like this to him, never shown him this resentful side to you. After a moment of staring at him, you take a turn back around and leave him alone in your tent.

The moment you step outside, you stand in front of Estadir who lowers his gaze from the flap of your tent to you. And you realize that he had been listening to your conversation with Ivar but don’t know whether or not he knows that he tried to kiss you. “You heard it all?” you ask, standing up tall and straight, hands clenched at your sides as you silently pray that this hasn’t ruined the night and the ritual.

Estadir nods his head. You try to find a sign of anger in his facial expression, but there is none there. It makes you tilt your head and give him a perplexed look. “I told you from the beginning that I did not like him here. Did I not say that he was trying to take you from me?” There’s a kind of cocky tone in his voice and a teasing smirk on his face as he steps beside you and places a hand on your back to lead you forward to the fireplace and the heart of the ceremony.

You roll your eyes, relax when you realize that he’s trying to make a point and that he heard everything right with what you said to Ivar. “Please, don’t tell me you told me so tonight. Did I not profess my love for you to him and say that I’ll never love anyone the way I love you?”

He chuckles, turns toward you, and glances down at you and he places his hands either side of your face. Then, he leans down and presses his forehead to you making your eyes flutter shut and a smile grows on your face.

Alke waits for you and Estadir by the fire, a smile on her face when she sees the loving interaction between you two. She knows that everyone is in high hopes that tonight the Gods will bless you and the war will be won tomorrow. Itris gives her hope too.

Seeing Ivar walk out of your tent, Alke’s smile drops and she goes stiff in her place. Especially when his eyes fall on her. He stares at her, making her heart race in her chest and a breath falls from her lips.

But Alke turns her gaze away from him and walks into the circle of the people starting the ritual, banging on drums and singing verses to the Gods. You had said that she would have to choose between Ivar and her family. And now that she is the voice of Itris, she is proud to choose her family.

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Tags in the reblogs

#ivar #ivar the boneless #ivar x reader #ivar smut #vikings ivar #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson #ivar imagine #ivanaivazovsky #estadir #reader x oc #reader x estadir hefna

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labyrinth-runner · 3 years

Note

"I... Think I'm in love" with Dan?????

Okay, so I’m writing this one as a sequel to War of Hearts, because it just fit and I hope that’s okay.

Title: Love Heals

Word Count: 3000

Your wedding night was quiet. He helped you with the ties of your gown and then retired to his own room. The bed felt too big for just you alone as you tossed and turned trying to get comfortable. Eventually, you grew tired of it and slipped on your robe before padding down the hall.

You took a steeling breath before gently rapping your knuckles against the door.

The door was open in a matter of seconds and he was looking down at you with concern in his eyes, “Couldn’t sleep?”

“The bed is just...” you trailed off, looking down at your feet. You felt silly, standing in front of this stranger because you couldn’t sleep.

Gently, he tipped your chin back up so that you would look at him, “Would you like to sleep in here?” His voice was soft.

You allowed yourself to nod.

A small smile settled on his lips as he stepped aside for you to enter.

Tucking your arms behind your back, you stepped into his candlelit room. You noted that his bed wasn’t turned down yet, meaning he hadn’t even gone to bed. As you turned back to him, you realized he was still in his suit.

“What were you doing before I knocked?” you asked curiously as you sat on the edge of the bed.

“I was writing to my estate to have them ready the manor for you,” he replied.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, “You want me to go to the manor without you?”

“It’s to be your home,” he said, brows furrowing.

“But you won’t be there,” you murmured.

“If you would like, you can host as many friends as you want,” he offered as he leaned against his desk.

If you were being honest, you weren’t sure you were ready to leave home and your parents. “How far away is it?”

“Two day’s ride,” he estimated. “It’s in upstate New York. I own an apple orchard.”

Somehow, you could see that. You rested your hands on your hips as you came over to him, “Am I expected to pick these apples?”

“Only if you want to eat or cook with them,” he smirked.

You smiled back, feeling the tension break. Then, you folded your hands in front of you. “When do you have to go back to the frontline?”

“At the end of the week,” he replied, gently reaching forward to take your hands in his. They were warm and slightly rough against your skin as he dragged his thumb back and forth across the backs of your hand.

“You should get some rest,” you said softly, taking your hands back. Your hands trembled slightly as you reached up to unbutton his vest. “At the very least, you should get more comfortable.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he said, taking your hand and kissing your finger tips. “Get some sleep. I’ll join you when I finish this letter.”

You withdrew from him, slightly in relief, and slightly in disappointment. Gingerly, you took your robe off and hung it off the bed post before slipping into bed. After closing your eyes, you let the soft sound of his pen dragging across a page lull you to sleep.

The days passed by swiftly. It wasn’t nearly enough time to truly get to know your husband. Soon enough, you found yourself at the train station about to say goodbye.

“Well, this next one is mine,” he murmured as you stood there on the platform.

“Will you write to me?” you asked, a little too eagerly.

“If you wish it,” he said with a slight smile. “Although, I don’t suppose that my stories of war would be pleasant to hear.”

“If you don’t wish to talk about war, then romance me instead,” you shot back.

A slight tinge of pink settled into his cheeks. “Alright, Mrs. Torrance. I think I can do that.”

Mrs. Torrance. It was like an arrow to your heart.

His train pulled up to the station and he gave you an apologetic look. “I wish we had more time.”

“Win the war and you’ll be back before you know it,” you replied with a soft smile. “Be safe, Captain Torrance.”

“I’ll try to come back to you in one piece,” he said, taking your hand and giving it a squeeze.

It wasn’t enough for the occasion. He was going off to fight and you might never see him again. Sure, you barely knew him and had only been married for a week, but a hand squeeze was not enough for the gravity of the situation. You tipped up on your toes to kiss his cheek, letting your lips linger on his skin for a moment more than you would have a week ago.

“Good bye, Captain,” you said as you pulled back.

“Good bye, my dear,” he grinned before saluting the superior officer ushering troops onto the train.

You stayed on the platform longer than necessary, not moving from your spot until the train was far into the distance and had disappeared around the bend. Then, you got into the carriage with all your things atop it and rode for your new home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The manor sprawled in front of you. An orchard engulfed the horizon around the house and you could not help the smile on your face. It was so much grander than he had told you.

As the carriage pulled up the drive, you let a small chuckle escape your lips. This was your home? It was so much more than you could have imagined. Stepping out of the carriage, the cool, crisp air filled your lungs. It was so much cleaner than the city.

Hired help unloaded your bags into the manor as you went up the stairs of the porch.

“Mrs. Torrance, this was left for you,” the butler said before handing you a letter.

You took it, walking absentmindedly through the house as you explored.

Eventually, you happened upon what you figured was your husband’s study. Books lined the walls and a large brown mahogany desk sat amidst it all. You ran your hand along the leather chair before sitting down and opening the letter.

Dear wife,

If you’re reading this, then you have arrived at Helen Rivington Estate without me. It’s something I would have liked to avoid. After all, I should have carried you across the threshold as any husband ought. I can only hope that absence will make the heart grow fonder. In lieu of my physically being there, I thought I would leave you a little hunt around the grounds to show you my favorite places.

Until we meet again,

Dan

You flipped the letter over and found a series of clues. A grin broke across your face as you started off on your quest.

The hunt took you all around the estate as you found little clues and poems that let you get to know the man you had married more and more. By the end of it all, you found yourself in a secret library behind the room you’d started in. Light streamed in through a stained glass window, coating a plush chair in a warm glow. If the room outside was your husband’s study, then this would be your special place that you could go to be close to him when he needed to work.

You sat down on the chair and started to pen your first letter to him, telling him all about your day’s adventures. Words flowed freely with more ease than earlier that week. You were comfortable with who you were, and what it would be like to be Mrs. Torrance.

It was the first letter of many that the two of you sent back and forth for months while he was away. With each stroke of the pen you fell more and more in love with him. Rarely did he ever mention the war, true to his earlier statement. Although, sometimes you wish he had. You wanted to know what life was like for him. You wanted to share in his struggles and emotional hardships.

Every response contained a small couplet of a poem that he wrote for you, usually based upon the contents in your letter. However, they always made you smile. Although he wasn’t home, his letters made it feel as if he were only a moment away at all times. It made the loneliness of the vast estate and the quiet of your bedchambers more bearable as it filled with your laughter at his words.

And then the letters stopped.

You weren’t sure if it was something you had done or if something had happened, but you went through your days with a pit in your stomach. Something was wrong, but you didn’t know what. Weeks without correspondence turned to months and you found yourself retreating back into your worries and sadness. Part of you debated returning home to surround yourself with those you knew and loved.

The idea was growing more and more appealing as the seasons changed and you found yourself pulling the shawl tighter around yourself as you walked in the orchard. You had sent staff home for the season and were walking through the rows of trees with a basket in hand. Absentmindedly, you picked apples and placed them into the basket, letting the silence surround you.

Then you heard it.

The familiar clip clop of horses hooves up the gravel drive.

You stood in disbelief, sure that you were hearing things until you saw the carriage come down the drive. The basket fell from your hands and you hiked up your skirts. You scrambled over fallen apples and tree roots to get back up the drive.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you took in the body on the back of the cart.

“No,” you whispered, dropping your gown. You walked towards the carriage in a haze.

“Ma’am, are you Mrs. Torrance?” the man driving the cart asked.

“Yes,” you breathed as he came to a stop.

The man nodded and got into the back of the carriage. “Come on, Danny. You’re home,” he said as he pulled a man up into a position so that he could help him walk.

You let out a breath of relief. He’s alive. Then, you rushed over to help the man carry your husband into the house. Together, the two of you managed to get him into bed.

“What happened?” you asked the man who had brought him.

“The Captain was sent sprawling from canon fire after being shot in the arm. We were deep in the South for weeks. I’m surprised he lasted as many skirmishes as he did. Then, he got hit down in Georgia. The camp doc was able to get the bullet out of his arm and disinfect it. It won’t go green on you, but he can’t shoot in this condition. If he can’t shoot, he’s better off staying home,” the man explained. “Besides, the doc said that being home with his lovely wife would recover him faster than seeing our ugly mugs.”

You had to crack a smile at that.

“Ma’am, if I may be so bold,” the man replied, “Your husband is one of the bravest men I’ve ever known. I wish him a speedy recovery.”

“Thank you,” you murmured, seeing the other man out the door.

After he left, you returned to the side of the bed with some fresh water and cloths. Gently, you dabbed at your husband’s face, cleaning off the dirt and ash that had settled there.

“I must look like a mess,” he murmured, eyes still closed.

“No worse than when I married you,” you teased.

“You wound me more than any bullet could,” he smirked, opening his eyes to look at you. They softened as he saw the worry lines etched on your face. Gently, he reached up with his good arm to swipe away a tear you hadn’t noticed.

You covered his hand with your own, leaning into his touch. “When you didn’t respond,” you sniffled, “I thought the worst. I thought you were killed or that you regretted this.”

“Oh, sweetheart, never,” he sighed, rubbing his thumb along your cheek. “I promised you I’d come back.”

“In one piece, Captain,” you shot back.

“Dan,” he smirked. “If you’re going to yell at me, at least use my given name.”

You couldn’t stay mad at him. It was in that moment that you realized, full and truly that you loved him. Yet, in the back of your mind, you remembered all the constraint of your wedding night and the distance he had purposely put between the two of you.

“We’ve got to clean you up,” you replied. “If your face is this dirty, I can’t imagine what the rest of you is like.”

Dan winced as you helped him sit up before gently starting to disrobe his torso.

Avoiding eye contact, you set to work smoothing a clean cloth over his body, working in slow circles to clear the caked on dirt and grime.

“You’re holding your breath,” you murmured, looking up at him through your lashes as you focused on his chest.

“You’re so close,” he replied.

“I’m your wife,” you said with a chuckle, “Is it so wrong that I am close?”

“No,” he swallowed, “I’m just not used to it.”

You nodded, finishing up your work. “I’ll wash your uniform. Let me just find you some replacement clothes first.”

“I can dress myself,” he quickly said.

You gave him a skeptical look. “If you need me, call for me. I should start dinner soon.”

He nodded, watching you as you left.

As the door clicked shut behind you, a feeling of disappointment washed over you. It wasn’t a flat out rejection, but it felt like one. Perhaps you were overthinking it. You shoved it aside and decided to work at the matter at hand, nursing your husband back to health.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the next couple of weeks, the two of you grew closer. You’d talk in the sun room over tea; you’d read together in the study; you even showed him how you had redecorated the secret library to suit your interests. Discussion flowed just as easily now as it had in your letters. Yet, every time you’d make physical progress towards intimacy, he’d pull back.

It was infuriating.

One day, while you were picking apples in the fields together, you confronted him. “Why do you always pull away when I get close?”

Dan stopped a few paces behind you while still holding the basket, “What do you mean?”

“Whenever I get too close to you, you pull away. It’s like we take three steps forward and two steps back,” you sighed, turning back to face him. Gently, you took the basket from him and placed it on the ground to take his hand.

He interlocked his fingers with yours, “I don’t always.”

“Dan,” you murmured. “I....think I’m in love.”

He dropped your hand and shook his head. “You can’t mean that.”

“I can, and I do,” you pleaded.

He was pulling away yet again, but this time you wouldn’t let him. Gripping the collar of his shirt, you pulled him down to your level and kissed him. To your surprise, he started to kiss back. His arm snaked around your waist to pull you flush against him before he pinned you to a tree. His hand came up to cup the side of your face as he deepened the kiss. Your mind was racing as you registered the feeling of his soft lips against yours. How someone could kiss in such a loving, yet passionate way was new to you. Eventually, you broke the kiss for air.

“I thought you didn’t-” you started.

“I love you,” Dan said sincerely.

“But-”

He gave you another quick kiss. “I know you didn’t want this, so I didn’t want to push you.”

“I didn’t at first,” you admitted, leaning your head back against the tree trunk to look up at him. “But, then I got to know you and I fell in love with you.”

“Oh?” he asked with a large grin on his face.

“Yes,” you grinned back. “I’m proud to be Mrs. Torrance.”

Without warning, he scooped you up in his arms.

“Danny!” you laughed as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “What are you doing?”

“If you remember correctly, I told you that I wanted to carry you into our home when you moved in here,” Dan told him. “I plan to do that.”

You rested your head on his shoulder. “I won’t protest.”

He carried you through the house and towards the bedroom. As he opened the door with his back, you heard the distant sound of bells.

“What’s that about?” you asked curiously.

Dan beamed as he looked down at you. “The war’s over. Those are the celebration bells.”

“So you’re home for good now?” you asked, trying to keep the obvious glee from your voice.

“I’m home for good,” he grinned before kissing you deeply as he lowered you to the bed.

#dan torrance x reader #dan torrance #Doctor Sleep #arranged marriage au

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johnmarstoned · 5 years

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Request for shameless smut but fluff with Arthur and a fem!reader? Like she comes back to camp after a mission and he just takes her away so he can have full privacy and do whatever they want? I'm a thirsty bitch sorry 😅

My blog is a safe space for thirsty bitches, trust me.

(and jesus christ i’m sorry i’m allergic to being like… brief… i always get carried away)

There’s nothing like riding back into camp with a sack full of money on the back of your horse, getting cheered by the camp and a pat on the head from Dutch.

It had been my mission, hitting a caravan of a few coaches heading from Saint Denis to Rhodes and carrying a bunch of rich folk in them, and it had gone smooth as can be. I’m red faced, excited and still pumping with adrenaline when I arrive back with Lenny, Sean and John, still surprised we’d made such a good team, being the young ones of the group. It had been quite a take, and no one had got too badly hurt, either.

But it had meant a few days away from camp, staking out the route and the people they’d be robbing, spending a little time in Saint Denis and a little camped out in the Bayou (which I truly hated and will not do again for a million dollars).

So we ride back into Clemens Point that evening triumphant and pleased with ourselves.

“That is what I like to see.” Dutch claps my back when I drop off his share of the cash at his tent, and I smile and appreciate the kudos I get from the rest of the gang too. “Calls for a celebration, don’t you think? Mr Pearson! Hand round some bottles of whiskey, would you?”

“Of course!” He calls.

“Molly, put a record on, my dear.” He instructs, and my eyes are already scanning the group for the only person whose attention I really want, not spotting him.

“You gotta bring me along next time.” Karen catches me by the arm and presses a bottle into my hands. “Sounds like fun, and I lord knows I wouldn’t mind that kinda cash.”

“Sure, Karen, have you seen-”

“Did you see that fuckin’ toff try and get me mouth when I told him to empty his pockets?” Sean puts his arm over my shoulder, still hyped up, and guides me over to the fire with him where people are already singing and chugging. “Gave him a right ol’ bust lip, I did.”

“I saw it, Sean.” I say, slightly impatient, because why hasn’t he come to see me yet? I stand on my tiptoes and try to look over to his tent.

“Arthur’s up the way a bit fishin’.” Abigail holds my elbow to catch my attention, and I sigh and smile gratefully at her knowing expression.

“Thank you.” I say and squeeze her arm. “Was starting to think he’d lost interest.”

“Oh, never.” Abigail chuckles. “He won’t be best happy he wasn’t here to welcome you back.”

Relieved, I slip away from the merriment to where I know he’ll be, just outside of camp down by the shore. It’s best to fish at this time of the evening, and I know he does it when I’m out on the job, keeps him calm, he says.

I spot him just ahead of me quickly, back to me, broad shouldered and tall, horse beside him, and I take a little breath, because it’s always so sweet to come back to him.

“Caught anything?” I ask, and sidle up to him, he turns when he hears my voice, and I see his chest fall in a breath that looks like relief.

“Someone was supposed to come get me when you got back.” He says, and spools up his fishing rod, closing it and replacing it in his pack.

“Well, I’m back.” I shrug as he approaches me, and he puts his hands on my shoulders before he’ll hold me properly, giving me a once over.

“It all go okay?” He asks.

“Yes.”

“Anyone die?”

“No.”

“You hurt?”

“Not a scratch.”

It’s the same conversation, the same routine every time I get done with a mission.

“There’s blood on ya.” He swipes his thumb across my chin, and I remember I had felt a little fleck there before.

“Not mine.” I shrug. “Mouthy bastard didn’t wanna part with his pocket watch.”

He smiles at me a little then, his eyes crinkle with it, and he takes my waist and kisses me good and thorough, and I sigh into his mouth and hold his arms. “That’s my girl.” He murmurs against my lips.

I never get tired of hearing him say that.

“Missed you.” I tell him, holding him tight as he loops his arms around my waist and pulls me to him so he can bury his face in my neck and press little kisses there. He’s soft, for one so big and tough, and I can’t help but smile knowing I’m the only one that gets to see that.

“Missed you too, sweetheart, somethin’ awful.”

I can’t help but tease him. “That why I can feel something other than your cattleman poking at me?”

He huffs out a little chuckle against my neck and pulls back to look at me.

“S’been a while, for us, anyway.”

“I know, trust me.” And it has, I’m already feeling starved of his body on me and in me. “Let’s go back to my tent, there’s a party but we can be quiet.” I take his hand and tug him away from the shore, but he doesn’t move, pulling me back.

“Don’t wanna be quiet.” He says simply, looking at me in that way that makes me shiver.

“Me neither, but we don’t have much of a choice.”

He looks at me for a moment like he’s considering something, then up at his horse.

“You got another ride in you?”

I cock my head, wondering what he’s getting at.

“Depends where to.”

“Saint Denis.” He says, and pulls me a little closer to him again. “That fancy ol’ room above the saloon with proper silk sheets, specifically.”

I shudder to think of it, four walls and a roof, a locked door, a big bed, with Arthur.

“Oh, I’m sure I can manage that ride.”

And he wastes no time getting up on his horse and helping me on behind him, and I giggle at the fast pace he sets, booking it through the more unsettling parts of the swamps given that it’s getting dark. I just hold onto his sides, and let myself feel hot with anticipation at what’s about to happen.

It’s completely night by the time we get into the city and inside the saloon, so it’s busy, lively, and boozy, and nobody really looks twice at me in my dirty trousers and battered shirt, sweating a little from the journey and eagerly waiting for Arthur to pay for the room.

Soon as that door closes, he has me up against it, kissing me deep and with tongue, this time, catching me round the backside to hitch my legs around his waist, so I can feel his erection pressing insistently against me.

Usually, I’d want a wash first, but it feels about right for me to be still a little dirty and sweaty, like I’m celebrating my victory in this post primal way I can, like some kind of warrior returning from battle.

Arthur’s strength never fails to turn me on so incredibly, holding me there with his thighs like I weigh nothing to him, and ripping open my shirt so buttons spray across the room so he can kiss and lick at my breasts like he hasn’t seen them so many times before. All I can do is moan delightedly, feeling a pulse between my legs, and hold onto his head.

“Goddamn beautiful.” He mumbles, and sets me down on my feet, to untuck my ruined shirt the rest of the way and get it off my arms. I take the initiative when he does, pulling off his neckerchief and unfastening his shirt buttons with haste so I can feel the skin of his stomach and chest. All thick muscle and boundless strength.

And I’m getting excited, and breathless, so I don’t bother pushing his shirt off, instead unsnapping the clips of his suspenders, and working on getting his trousers open so I can finally get my hand around that cock I’ve been thinking about for days. He hisses a breath through his teeth when I stroke him, and I watch is face close, tongue between my teeth, when I move my hand up and down on him.

“You might wanna stop that.” He says, voice rough as he gently catches my wrist and moves it away. “Ain’t gonna last long with you lookin’ at me like that.”

I smile to myself, ears humming already with excitement, and push his shoulder a little to get him to sit down on the bed. He smiles up at me from there, hands flexing on his knees, he watches me peel off my saddle pants, and my underthings, until I’m naked in front of him.

“You’re somethin’…” He says, and his hands round my ass and pull me to stand right in front of him. He presses kisses down my stomach and bends to kiss the hair between my legs too.

“I’m ready for you, Arthur.” I say, breathy, and he smirks up at me just a little, eyes sparkling in the candlelight, and reaches his hands between my legs to feel for himself, slipping a finger between my folds and finding me slick.

“God, that for me?” He asks it with a tone half teasing, half in genuine disbelief. I’ve never met a man more blind to his own beauty in my life.

“Always.” I bend down to pull off his boots for him, his hands running over my body wherever they can reach, and then his pants follow, which I drop on the ground with the rest of our clothes. When he’s finally naked, I sit on his broad thighs and kiss him again, never wanting to detach from his mouth.

He lays me down on the bed, head on the pillow, and I can’t believe how soft and luscious the sheets feel against my skin, especially compared to the wools and furs we usually sleep under.

“I missed you on top of me.” I sigh and hitch a leg around his hip. “Wish you could be inside of me all the time.”

“Christ.” Arthur groans at that, and positions the tip of his cock at my entrance. I can feel it slick and weeping already, and he plants his elbows under my armpits and lets me hold onto his thick biceps before he pushes inside me, all the way to the hilt.

“Ah! Mmm, yes, Arthur.” I whimper, feeling so hot and fulfilled and relieved to have him fill me up.

It makes me reconsider everything, when we do this, when he moans aloud and furrows his brow as he pushes in and out of me, makes me think I could be a wife and a mother, and take care of a homestead, as long as I had him coming home and doing this to me every night, as long as I had him smiling at me and calling me his girl.

My fingers dig into his skin as he fucks me, both vocalising our enjoyment as much as we want without fear of one of the gang wolf-whistling and shaking the canvas. The bed is creaking under the motion, the sound of skin hitting skin cuts through the room, and my noises of pleasure reach a fever pitch when he puts a hand on the headboard and cants my hips up further so he can pound into me as hard as he can.

“Ohhh, goddamn, Arthur.” My eyes shut, and I hear him make a grunt of effort.

“You feel like a dream.” He murmurs, his voice rumbles through me. “Feel like nothin’ else, sweetheart.”

I can’t vocalise a response, because one of his hands holding my hips moves down so he can thumb my clit as he moves inside of me, and that’s it, I’m done. With an almost shout, my back bows and my orgasm rattles through me suddenly, electrifyingly, making my heel dig into his thigh and my nails scratch his arm.

“Arthur…” I whimper, riding it out, and wriggling while his hands hold me still and he doesn’t let up his pace, sounding like he’s enjoying it as much as I am.

“Yes, just like that, girl.” And that term of endearment shakes me again, gasping as I open my eyes to watch him duck his head, that expression on his face that tells me he’s going to come soon.

“Give it to me, Arthur.” I hold his face and pull him down to kiss me, pushing my tongue into his mouth. “I love you so much.”

And that does it, he makes a rough noise that comes from his chest, and pushes inside me deep when he comes. He kisses me desperately, and his hips move just a little as he gives me everything he has and the muscles of his stomach jump with it. I hold him tight to me through it, feeling the bone deep desire to have him fill me with his spend, knowing it’s foolish when we live like we do.

“Shit.” He curses when it’s finally over, panting against me and dropping his weight onto me a little. And lord, he’s heavy.

It’s nice though, the press of his sweaty skin against mine and even the feel of him softening inside me before he pulls out with a hitched breath and drops onto his back.

Bones feeling like jelly, I finally close my knees and curl up to his side, resting my chin on his chest. He pulls me up to him and holds my lower back, fingers drawing little circles there. I’m still pulsing with aftershocks between my legs, and I can’t help but look at his cock, big and thick, half hard, resting on his stomach. He is something else.

“We don’t have to go back to camp yet, do we?” I ask, and peck his skin.

“Paid for the night.” He says, still stroking me languidly. “Plan to get our money’s worth.”

“Good.” I smile, and reluctantly slip away from him. “I’m gonna have to ask one of the working girls to draw me a bath though, before I do anything else.”

He nods, and watches me slip off the bed and stretch out my arms, taking in my body.

“Love you too, by the way.” He refers back to me saying it before, hand resting across his stomach and looking like he should be painted. “You know that.”

“I do.” I tell him, because he never lets me doubt it for a second.

#Anonymous #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #fluff #smut #fic #request #rdr2 fic #when i say smut i mean smut #i enjoyed writing this like too much

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