#where they want. except he intended to come back and when he did they were already conked out. so he just. ''hey thats a good idea'' >zzz

[halsinsnaturepocket]

Half Awake, Fully Horny

if you saw me accidentally post this on main ~*no you didn't*~

I finally finished it besties <3

Thank you to @pedros-immaculate-vibes for making the original post this is based on forever ago

also shoutout to my beta readers @silveredbark @roguegrove @cozykomala and @myers-meadow

Summary: It's 3am, you're about to roll over and go back to sleep, but not without a quick snuggle of your slumbering lover - except he's also awake.

Rating: Explicit

CW: Modern Au, Halsin x you, PxV sex (fem/nb reader intended but no explicit gender or pronouns are used) some hair pulling, no time for foreplay just jumping right in, halsin's got a big dick

Read it on ao3 here

You awaken against your will in the middle of the night, not for any particular reason, just that momentary lapse between sleep cycles where you are vaguely aware that you are awake. You let out a soft sigh and reach for your phone. The light blinds you for a moment as you struggle to turn the brightness down to see the time – 3:07am. Too early to get up, just enough time to go back to sleep and be rested enough for work in the morning. All you need to do is roll over, readjust yourself, and fall back to sleep. But, before you do, you take advantage of the moment to snuggle against your snoozing lover, Halsin. 

You slowly rotate yourself so you are facing him; his form is a dark shadow that is slowly becoming clearer as your eyes adjust to the low light of your shared bedroom. He is positioned on his side, his broad back towards you. Usually, the two of you would snuggle in each other's arms before falling asleep back-to-back. Halsin liked to be touching you when he slept, and you loved the feeling of connection it gave you. You loved feeling him shift against you, feel his body moving as he breathed. It was a gift every night to simply feel his presence beside you. 

However, the man was a furnace. Since your first night together, he had been sleeping naked, and you realized quickly that clothes were not needed when sleeping beside him, no matter the season. On most nights, you kept on a thin pair of undergarments, just enough to keep you from feeling too exposed. As much as you wanted to, sleeping in each other's arms was sweaty and unbearable on hot nights like tonight. A quick snuggle wouldn't hurt anyone, though. 

You push your face into his warm back, nuzzling your face between those deliciously muscular shoulder blades. Something about sleeping always makes Halsin so warm and comfortable, his skin feels softer, his body is relaxed, his scent is strong and musky. You push your nose in and breathe in deep as you wrap your arms and legs around him, taking in as much of him as you can before you go back to sleeping. Nothing in this world was quite as wonderful. You feel him stir against you, and you realize he’s also awake. He tilts his shoulders and head back and you realize he wants to roll over and face you. A smile hints at your lips as you shift around to give him room to roll and move closer to you. In the dim light, you see his sleepy face come into focus. His eyes are closed as he feels his way into the crook of your neck. He inhales deeply, and you feel his chest puff out and fall empty as he breathes in your scent. He pulls you in tight for an embrace and kisses you on the forehead, and then your nose, and your lips. His lips are so warm and soft against yours, and you lean into it, pushing your whole body against him. 

Sometimes when Halsin did this, he would immediately turn back over and you would both go back to sleep. However, he instead presses his body against you in return, twining his legs between yours. Never one to turn down a full-body embrace, you shift into a more comfortable position, moving your arm under the crook of his neck, snaking your legs between his, and you let out a deep breath. As you settle yourself against him, you feel his hot, untethered length pressing against your leg. An involuntary groan escapes from your throat. Is he trying to turn you on, or was this just something he woke up with?

He half opens his eyes to meet your gaze, as if sensing the question. He smiles, nuzzling against your face. He kisses along your jaw and neck, nipping and sucking gently at your flesh. You wordlessly tell him you want more with a soft exhale as you grind your leg against his hardening cock. 

Sleep was no longer an option as you felt the clouds clearing from your mind, primal senses taking over in their place. He kisses you with the hunger of a bear that just awoke hibernation, ravenously clawing against your skin and grinding against you. You trace your hand along his leg, slipping it between your entangled thighs to slide your hand along his length and he lets out a growl. He bares his teeth against your skin and grabs you by the hips, flipping you on top of him, the blanket that was draped over you falling off to his side, only covering your intertwined legs. The air around you is cooler than the dome of heat that had been created between your bodies, and with the blanket gone, the cooler air swirling around you sends a shiver up your spine. Halsin's warm hands are a welcome sensation as he rubs your chilled skin. His hands caress your sides and chest, his thumbs gently encircling your hardened nipples, sending a jolt of electricity down your spine and instantly warming you as you feel arousal pooling between your legs. A soft moan escapes from your lips. Damn, of all the nights to have worn underwear.

He lifts you up by the hips to position your legs on either side of his lap, and as he lowers you down, you feel the heat of his cock pressing against your core through the gossamer-thin undergarment as he grinds against you with a groan. You moan in response, aching for more. He pulls you closer and takes one nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting at it as you move your hips faster against him, desperate to feel more. Not one to leave any part of you neglected, he switches his mouth to the other nipple, encircling the other with his thumb. You moan again as warmth and moisture build against the thin barrier of fabric blocking you from feeling your lover grinding against you, your panties are soaked and you can almost feel it, but it's not enough. 

"Halsin....please. I need to feel you." You plead. 

He wastes no time. He slides his hands down your sides and nearly rips the thin cloth off of you as he pulls them down. You ungracefully lift your legs and kick them off and bite at his neck as you greedily rub your clit against his shaft. He moans, letting you grind yourself against his length as the moisture and heat between your legs spills onto him. With a low growl, he grabs your hips with almost enough force to leave a bruise and flips you both over, pinning you under him. His hand hastily finds its way between your legs and he slips two digits inside of you, pumping them a few times before stroking his wet fingers against your sensitive clit. You let out a soft yelp as he gently circles the nub, his movements a little clumsy and hasty. You feel like an unkempt mess coming undone at his touch, your body alight with excitement from him knowing your weak spots even when half-asleep. The excitement of this impromptu lovemaking was almost enough to send you over the edge. He'd barely even started, but at this point, you're so wet and ready for him, you don't even want the extensive foreplay. You just want him inside of you now. 

"Please…gods…fuck me, Halsin." you whimper in his ear. “I need you deep inside of me.”

"Hmm. I need no further invitation" He mumbles with a low chuckle. You can tell from his voice he is equally as desperate to be buried deep inside of you. Before you can take a breath, he puts your legs over his shoulders and plunges into you. You wince as he enters you, remembering exactly why you usually take time for foreplay. The pain of him stretching you so suddenly makes you inhale sharply and wince. He pauses, a look of concern crossing his face as he remembers the burden of his size. 

“Should I stop, my heart?” His voice rumbles from above you. You look up at him, his hair is tousled from sleep and hanging wildly around his concerned face. 

"Just keep going,” you say to him breathlessly, moving one of your legs off of his shoulder and laying it beside him, a better position since you haven’t stretched. 

“I need you so badly. Just...go slow." You whimper. 

Halsin obliges, resisting the urge to bury himself in deep. He places one warm hand on your hip to guide himself, and the other on the leg still slung over his shoulder and thrusts gently, going in a little deeper every few thrusts. You breathe in deeply and try to relax your tight muscles and let him in.

“Gods you’re so tight…” He lets out a deep moan as he bottoms out and he stops thrusting, catching his breath as he soaks in the sight of you beneath him. 

Your eyes have fully adjusted to the dim light of the night to the savory sight of him disheveled from sleeping. His hair is down, a little damp from sweat, some strands curl and twist while others lay down flat. There are red indents on his skin across his torso and on his arms from the folds of the sheets you had been resting on only moments ago. He is a wild mess. This is Halsin in his rawest form, without any masks or walls he puts on around other people. It was a rare treat to see, but godsdamned if it wasn't always the sexiest sight you had ever seen. 

“You are so beautiful.” He says, catching you off guard. Your cheeks warm as a blush spreads across your face, you probably look similarly disheveled. 

With a deep breath, you move your legs, wrapping them around his waist, and pull him closer to you, pushing him in deeper. With a groan he starts thrusting again, slowly works up his pace until you are fully prepared for him to pound into you. As he feels you relaxing, and your moans become louder, he moves your legs back over his shoulders and his pace becomes relentless. The sound of your moans feels comparatively loud to the silence of the night around you as he pounds harder and harder, until you start to feel the familiar warmth of an orgasm gripping at your senses. You gush and overflow as you cry out his name, which only encourages him to move faster, chasing his own release. It all feels amazing, but you want a deeper release, you want him buried so deep you see stars. You want him not to hold back, and to feel his balls swinging and slapping against your clit until he comes inside of you. You put your hand on his chest to make him stop and he looks at you inquisitively. 

"Bend me over, Halsin." you gasp. 

It’s the fastest way to get you to your best release, and the one position where he never holds back, and you could be as loud as you wanted with a pillow to muffle you, no less. He wordlessly pulls out and effortlessly flips you over. As you gather together whatever pillow is in front of you to bury your face in, he pulls you up by the hips and enters you swiftly. You exclaim loudly into the cushion as his cock slides in, you feel it filling you fully, hitting every sensitive nerve inside of you. 

He does not hold back. He buries his hand in your hair, pulling at the roots and he braces himself with one large hand across your back, pinning you down against the bed. He slams into you and sets a searing, relentless pace until you are a moaning, swearing mess. The sound of his moans is rivaled only by the sound of his skin slapping loudly against your wet backside, you can feel hot liquid arousal running down your legs. Just like you craved, his balls are swinging and slapping deliciously against your clit as he pounds away much faster than anyone his size should be able to. His cock swells and hits against your walls as he growls like the animal he is.  His name escapes your lips an incomprehensible amount of times as your screams and moans are muffled by the pillow he is pressing you into. You have to turn your head to the side so he can hear you speak: 

"I'm so close, oh gods, Halsin, don't stop...don't you dare fucking stop...fuck!" You shout as you feel your walls contracting and clenching around him as you release. He keeps thrusting as wetness spills out of you, he is not far behind. Your orgasm pushes him over the edge. He pulls your hair and comes inside you with a primal, guttural noise and you feel his cock twitching inside you as he fills you. 

After a few beats, he releases his grip on your hair and pulls himself out of you, and you're finally able to collapse belly-down on the bed. A groan escapes your lips as you feel his seed sliding out of you. 

"We're going to need to wash the sheets in the morning." You mutter. There’s no doing it now. You need to sleep. 

“Indeed.” He chuckles. You take a few deep breaths, waiting for the blood to return to your legs so you can shakily walk yourself towards the bathroom to hastily clean yourself up. 

When you return, the ruined sheets are on the floor, Halsin has carefully draped your favorite fleece blanket over the naked mattress. Halsin is smoothing out the wrinkles as you lean against the door frame, admiring how he looks as he spreads the blanket out with care and sets the pillows back on the bed, giving them each a little fluff and arranging them carefully for optimal comfort. He catches you out of the corner of his eye and gives you a warm smile. 

"This blanket isn't ideal for sleeping on long term but...it'll do for tonight. We can toss the sheets in the wash tomorrow morning." 

You return his smile and roll on top of the bed playfully, beckoning him to lay back down next to you. He smiles and lays down beside you, spooning you against him. He pulls the plush duvet cover over the both of you and pulls you in tight. He kisses the back of your neck affectionately, and the two of you are sound asleep before you know it.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Thanks for reading! reblogs/likes/comments always appreciated.

tagging everyone who liked my post earlier: @ohnoo0o @plutonianplaything2 @plutonianplaything2 @ltlmc

#bg3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #Baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #baldur's gate fanfic #halsin #halsin silverbough #halsin x reader #halsin x you #halsin smut #not sfw #my writing

[cozylittleartblog]

swatchvember: 90′s, rainy day, sleeping

cramming some of these prompts together to be silly <3 they spent a lot of time back then keeping some rich up-and-coming little salesman entertained, he’s one of their best customers. maybe you’ve heard of him...

#deltarune #swatch #spamton #swatchvember #art #doodles #swatchlings #queen #i didn't mean to go that hard on the first one but the colors were important i thought asdflkjdsf #um! ok to tag as ship :) even though it is not meant to be ship they are still just here for his wallet wjhbdfbhj #they're both . drunk. swatch gave him the bill and he paid and left and they nodded off because this is their joint they can sleep where th #where they want. except he intended to come back and when he did they were already conked out. so he just. ''hey thats a good idea'' >zzz #and nobody saw him! nobody saw him they just saw swatch. he falls out of view when he lays down in those booths so he just got to Stay There #... anyway they're plenty awake now ! 😂 #regular spamton is a reprehensible little man but bigshot era spamton is just a little guy with big dreams and i would let #him sell me a vacuum cleaner #... that's reprehensible little man Affectionate. but still #i'm so cool i don't need to be drunk to forget how to count B) i just dont know how to count by Default! #before i forget if you see this pleas use they/them only when referring to my swatch ty!!!

[altruisticalastor]

↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

☒ Summary: "Alastor said we've met before. In the living world. But I seriously don't ever remember meeting him." Angel looked puzzled. "Soo... what do you remember from your life?" 

☒ Warnings: fem!reader she/her pronouns used, hurt with no comfort sorry, tons of confusion for alastor and the reader, one kiss, very suggestive language (its from angel- are we surprised?), slight self harming (alastor), blood, tears, arguing, desprate!alastor, toxic themes, split pov (second devider is when alastor's pov starts!)

☒ Word Count: 2,653

"You- WHAT?" 

Angel shot up from his spot on your bed. His eyes widened, eyebrows knitting in perplexity.

"I know- I know! It's bad... but I wasn't thinking clearly!" You slumped under Angel's judgemental gaze, pulling your knees up to your chest from where you sat on your bed. 

"Toots, there is no way his pussy eating skills are good enough to fuck you that dumb!" You averted your gaze. Heat rose to your cheeks from Angel's crass words.

"Oh, but they are..." You mumbled before you felt two of Angel's hands grip your shoulders, shaking you out of frustration.

"Did you really have to pick an absolute psychopath to be the one to pop your cherry? Toots, you're gorgeous. You could have anyone you want!" You were flustered beyond comprehension as Angel stopped shaking you. Opting to glare at your heated face instead. 

"We didn't go all the way! Plus he's the one who's been pursuing me all this time- I didn't get it at first, and I still don't. But-" Your expression morphed into one of contemplation. Angel's jaw went slack as he impatiently awaited your next words. "But what?! Spit it out!"

"He said we've met before. In the living world. But I seriously don't ever remember meeting him." Angel nudged you to the side before slotting himself atop your bed once more. "Soo... what do you remember from your life?" 

You froze. 

Angel's inquiry filled your mind with more questions than answers. 

"I... not much," You paused, turning to face Angel before you continued. "The earliest memory I have is waking up in a hospital bed after surviving a blow to the head from some hunting accident." 

You closed your eyes, wracking your brain for every last detail you could remember; no matter how small. "I ended up falling into a coma only days after that mishap. The next thing I know, I'm in fucking hell." You chucked bitterly. Angel let out a laugh of his own. 

"No offense, babe, but that has to be one of the saddest fuckin' things I've ever heard," Angel outstretched his legs, overlapping them atop yours. "That accident, what else can you remember about it? Maybe that's the ticket!" 

Your eyes shot open from Angel's question. "Wait... before I fell into a coma, there was this nurse- she told me that I was led into the woods by a dangerous fellow," You paused, eyes scanning Angel's wildly as he perched himself forward. Literally hanging on the edge of his seat from your musings. 

"She told me the gunshot wound saved my life, fucking ironic now because It ended up killing me anyway. She also said that... the man who took me into the woods was a serial killer who had been on the run for decades. He ended up getting shot in the head that night, also. Except he died instantly..."

Angel was hanging on to every word you uttered. He could see the pieces falling into place from your look of awe. "What was the man's name, toots? What was it?!" Angel shouted a little louder than he intended. You jolted back from his outburst, taking in a shaky breath. You replayed that memory with the nurse over and over again. 

She had to have said it at some point. 

Come on! Think, think- think!

“Turns out the man you were out in those woods with was a wanted serial killer. That 𝘈⃒̅𝘭⃒̅𝘢⃒̅𝘴⃒̅𝘵⃒̅𝘰⃒̅𝘳⃒̅ fellow was an active murderer for decades! The papers say he was good at steering clear of the cops for all these years. The hunter wasn’t even aiming for you both. His target was a nearby deer.”

"His target was a nearby deer."

A deer... 

Again. 

Retrace.

"That ɹ̸o̸ʇ̸s̸ɐ̸ʅ̸Ɐ̸ fellow was an active murderer for decades! The hunter wasn’t even aiming for you both. His target was a nearby deer."

Fuck- it was just out of reach. 

One more time, one more fucking time. 

Think carefully. 

"The hunter wasn’t even aiming for That A͊l͖a̪sto̶̸̅r̷̦͍ fellow. His target was a nearby deer."

You gasped sharply, startling Angel. You felt your heart sink into your stomach as the last piece of the puzzle fell into place.

"Alastor... his name was Alastor." 

Your voice was distant as you spaced out. Angel's face blurred out of focus through your line of sight. 

"You've got to be fuckin' kidding me. That freak was going to kill you when you were still alive-? And now... you belong to him? Shit- toots! This is rough... and not the good kind of rough." 

Alastor sat at the piano. Staring at the keys with that ever-present smile— but not daring to strike a tune. 

You’ve been avoiding him again.

What was it going to take for you to realize that he was your fiancé on earth? 

Sure, his features were more creature than man, but at the end of the day; Alastor was still the same man you fell in love with. 

Maybe he should have held off from his… desires. 

Could you blame him, though? He’s been waiting nearly a century to be reunited with his beloved. 

You’re the person he thought about for all these lonely years in hell. The only solace for Alastor was the notion that you survived, lived a long happy life, and inevitably made it to the pearly gates. 

So imagine his despair when you showed up at the Hazbin Hotel, looking to be redeemed. 

Alastor recognized you immediately. He could spot that grin of yours in a crowd of billions. 

Smile at the world, and she smiles back at you. 

But— you didn’t even spare him the time of day. Alastor gave you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe you just needed some time to reignite your memory. 

And so, he gave you time. You’ll come around, Alastor thought. 

But he couldn’t have been more wrong, as much as he hated to admit it. 

He grew impatient— losing all of his resolve when you admitted to his voice reminding you of home. 

Alastor presumed maybe a passionate encounter would jumpstart your adoration for him. You had never breached that level of intimacy when you both were alive. You were adamant about waiting until marriage, but those dreams never came true. 

Yet even still, it was not enough. 

Was he really that forgettable to you? 

Suddenly, a knock on his door pulled him from his stupor. Alastor quickly cleared his throat, straightening his bowtie and taking steps toward his door. 

The second he swung the door open, he was met by the person who invaded his every thought; you. 

“What a pleasant surprise! Come in, my dearest.” Alastor piped up, stepping aside to let you into his safe haven. 

Your face was devoid of any vibrancy, and your eyes frantically avoided his. Alastor watched you closely as you hesitantly stepped past the threshold of his space. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Alastor hummed as he shut the door before turning on his heel to face you. 

You rubbed at the sleeve of your dress nervously. Alastor’s mind instantly flashed the memory of your first meeting. 

The sight of you soothing yourself with a gentle caress to your bicep. Clammy hands seeping perspiration through that gorgeous vermilion dress of yours.  

“I-I remember you…” Your voice was barely above a whisper. Legs trembling from where you stood before him.

Your words caused Alastor’s heart to race wildly. 

At long last— you remember him! 

“I knew you would, my smart girl! Ah- you have no clue how elated I am to finally hear those words leave your lips!” He invaded your personal space without missing a beat. 

Alastor’s eyebrows knitted in confusion as you dodged his hand— that had full intention of clasping around your cheek. 

“Don’t… don’t touch me.” Your voice was shrill as you took a step back from him. 

Alastor took one step forward. 

“My darling, why are you being so cold? You know how much I loathe teasing.” Alastor forced out a chuckle as you took two steps back. 

Alastor took three steps forward this time. 

“You’re sick! You’re the one who’s been teasing me all this time— how dare you?!” You spat, raising your hands to push him away, but to no avail. 

Alastor grasped your wrists with his large palms. He gazed down at you with a frenzied look, grip tightening scarcely around your wrists. “Darling… this isn’t funny anymore.” His voice was low, and the corners of his lips twitched in irritation. 

“It never was funny to begin with! I mean, how could you try to kill me on earth and then think it’s okay to fool around with me in hell?!” You glared up at him, tears of frustration now rolling down your cheeks. 

Alastor’s grip loosened from your words. He was utterly astonished. "You think I... tried to kill you?" His voice was quiet, crimson orbs frantically searching yours. 

You grimaced at him, rolling your eyes before you shouted, "You led me out into the woods, and the next thing I know, I'm in the hospital with a gunshot wound to the head and no memories before waking up in a stiff hospital bed! Everything I know about you and the accident was spoon-fed to me by some crappy nurse!"

Alastor's smile dropped. He wasn't even aware of the frown that crossed his features. The only giveaway was the absence of that standard achy feeling in his cheeks from holding an everlasting grin. "Darling, I-I'm not following... you mean to tell me you... don't remember your life before that mishap?" 

You looked puzzled by Alastor's uncharacteristic display of distress. His hands slipped from your wrists as he wobbled backward. "Yeah, and It's your fault! If you didn't haul me out into those woods to kill me, I would still remember who I was! And my whole life before all this bullshit!" 

You took a step forward. 

"I would remember my family, my career, if I even fucking had one! I would remember my joyful memories, my painful ones, and— and- maybe I would remember somebody who actually loved me!" You furiously glared up at him. Pointing your index finger into his chest in an accusatory fashion. 

Alastor snapped at your last words. 

Somebody who actually loved you?

It was him.

It was always him. 

Was his love for you really that immemorable?

"You truly aren't joking... you... don't remember me." Alastor felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. You were the last thing keeping it intact. All that he felt in his chest now was your blunt fingernail piercing his skin from where you jabbed him. 

"I just told you I do! What the fuck are you talking about?!" Alastor could tell your patience was wearing thin. You were probably just as confused as he was but for all the wrong reasons. 

Alastor's arms fell limp against his sides. Yet his fists were balled up so tightly that he could hear the pitter-patter of his blood spilling onto the carpet from how deeply his nails sunk into the flesh of his palm. 

You weren't ever going to believe the truth, but Alastor still needed to try.

"My dearest... that is not how we met. And my intentions were not and never will be to end your life." Alastor paused, taking in a shaky breath before continuing. 

"You're frustrated about not remembering somebody that loved you, yes? As am I..." You tilted your head in confusion. Finally pulling your finger away from his wounded chest. "What the fuck are you trying to say, Alastor?" Your voice was laced with annoyance, and your scowl was unwavering. 

"Darling, that somebody that loved you was me-and still is. It will always be me," Alastor paused, hands now finding purchase on your shoulders. "That accident should have never happened! We were scheduled to be wed at the courthouse later that evening... but... we never... made it..."

Why were his cheeks burning unbearably so? 

And why was your countenance blurring before his very eyes? 

Alastor's grip on your shoulders was unwavering, but his hands now trembled. Your expression was one of perplexity as you shook your head incredulously. "I loved you in life and now in death. I've loved you all this time, my sweet girl. Nothing will ever change that! Please, I beg of you- you must believe me!"

The definitive radio static crackle to his voice was nowhere to be found. Instead, his voice was laced with desperation. You looked disoriented through his blurry gaze as you took a weary step back. 

Alastor felt wetness trickle down his burning cheeks. 

Oh, he was... crying?

The last time he wept was when he first arrived in this grim place otherwise known as Hell. The realization that he left you on earth all alone tore him up. Alastor was inconsolable for years.

You truly knew how to put him together just to rip him apart all over again, huh? 

There is no undoing grander than love itself. 

"I-I don't believe you..." Your voice was just above a whisper as you slipped out of his grasp and approached the doorway. You turned your back on him, literally and metaphorically. 

Alastor didn't miss a beat. He rushed to you, large palm slamming flat against the wooden door. "We worked at the same radio station! Your bitch of a friend Elaine and her parents took you in after your pill-addict parents abandoned you on your eleventh birthday!"

You let out a sharp gasp as he hovered over you. Alastor couldn't read your expression, with your face practically pressing into the wooden door. All he could see was the top of your head as he pushed his chest into your rigid back. His arm was outstretched, keeping the door shut and caging you in entirely. 

"It was love at first sight for me! We went dancing for our first date. Did you truly fail to notice how effortlessly we moved along the dancefloor at Charlie's last gathering? It's because deep down, your body remembers every dance we ever shared,"

Alastor flipped you over faster than you could process. Your back was now flush against the sturdy door, his arm still caging you in. He peered down at you as his thumb and index finger from his non-dominant hand grasped your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"Every lingering touch..." 

He felt you tremble beneath his intense stare from how his chest now squashed against yours. Alastor's face dipped lower, invading your personal space. He brushed the tip of his nose against yours, breath fanning over your tear-stained cheeks. 

"And every kiss..."

Alastor observed you desperately as he pressed his lips against yours. He poured all his love into the shared embrace, hoping it would jumpstart your memory. But instead, you just shoved him away harshly, breaking away from his embrace. Alastor felt his world crumble around him as you wiped his kiss away with the back of your hand.

"You're fucking crazier than I thought!" With Alastor still reeling from the rejection, you took your leave. The sound of the door slamming thundered through his head. 

Alastor sunk to his knees. His hands came up to tug at his messy tufts of hair. Allowing the tears to flow freely now that he was completely alone.

Alastor did not think you were capable of hurting him until now. 

Alastor yanked at his locks furiously as his cheeks burned brightly in frustration. His knees quivered as his forehead kissed the carpet that was stained with his blood from earlier—when he unintentionally ripped up his palms. Alastor curled in on himself as he wept. 

This pain was worse than any other.

But more than anything, his love for you only burned brighter.

As did his determination to have you remember him and the pleasant life you both shared before all was lost. 

tags; @danveration @celestial-vomit @jyoongim @stygianoir @polytheatrix @mmik3yy @littlebullofblythe @cxrsedwxrlds @lillithhearts @nogiggleonlybitter @minniemumbles @chewbrry @lbcreations-blog @nonetheartist @call-me-nyxx @zombiesnips-blog @stawberrypimpsimp @wonderlandangelsposts @villxinmiixx @persephoneblck @maxlynn17 @littledolly2345 @karolinda007-blog @falling-endlessly @greekyoghurtwithberries @bladeismine @aloraaaxcrystalzx @doctorswife221b @scaramoochiie @fairyv-ice @chirikoheina @veroneverleft @tired-of-life-86 @saccharine-nectarine @c-thegingergirl @tsunaki @geminixbunny @softangxlicss @alleystore @sirens-and-moonflowers @fairyv-ice @honey132 @alastorsaries @zenix108 @michi-keinz @fokrilove @yourdoorisunlocked @willowshadenox @izakyun @fangirlbitch02 @kyana-chan @aquariaries @sincerely-lorely @maxlynn17 @ivebeenthearchersstuff

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel smut #alastor smut #alastor x you #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor imagine #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x y/n #alastor angst #alastor fluff #hazbin hotel angst #hazbin hotel fluff

[adventuringblind]

Baby Daddy

Lestappen x Reader

Genre: Smut

Request: Yes and I did this happily because it came from the best (Would have been happy either way but that just makes it better)

summary: Charles and Max decided to see who can get reader knocked up first.

Warnings: Breeding kink, PinV, vomiting, double penetration, teasing, praising+degrading

Notes: The author liked this one. The author will now be jumping in holy water.

masterlist

The following media is not intended for minors. Please don't interact if you're under the age of 18.

She wasn’t sure how the conversation started. She knew both boys wanted to start a family, and she was in the height of a baby fever that she can’t escape from. So, asking about it made sense.

Not that they were mad. Of course not. They just couldn’t decided who would be the one to be the biological father.

“I think we should make it a competition.” Max’s smug face makes her pale. It’s never a good sign when he brings up that word.

“Winner gets to choose the order of out last names.” Charles demands. Another argument they’d been having recently.

“What about me?! I’m the one who’s carrying the baby!”

“You can choose where yours goes no matter who wins.”

“Sounds fair to me.” She smiles with satisfaction. At least she knows there is an ungodly amount of good sex coming her way.

~

Three months of trying. She was sore after every race. not for the reasons of her lovers. But because of what they to do her. their competitive spits had yet to falter. Much to her benefit and pleasure.

Six months of trying and she was starting to lose confidence in herself. Her doctor said she’s fine, but it doesn’t stop the stupid thoughts because all three of them want this entirely to much.

A year and she’s given up on thinking about it. They are obviously still trying, but it’s not something that she talks about much anymore. She knows that it takes longer for some and she’s okay with that. She just avoids the subject as much as possible.

~

The night Max wins his second championship title is about how’d you expect it to be. Except for the part where him and Charles are in the corner with the tiniest bit of alcohol in their drinks.

They eye her in that stupid dress she knows they love, dancing rather suggestively with Kika and Lily. She’d been staying away from alcohol as of late so they know she’s not even close to tipsy. Yet the look on her face as she dances could make anyone think she was.

‘I think we should get out of here before we do something stupid.” Suggests Charles without breaking his gaze.

“Like what?”

“Take here right here and now.”

The boys startle her as they drag her away from her friends. She hardly even registers they are in the car going to the hotel. “Did I do something wrong?” The sincerity in her voice doesn’t go unnoticed.

Max leans down to whisper in her ear. “Just thinking about getting this dress off of you."

Charles runs his fingers along her thighs, causing her to shiver. His mouth finds the crook of her neck and lays gentle kisses down to her collar bone.

She feels for the taxi driver. The poor man is subjected to whatever is happening in his back seat.

"Gonna take you home and put a baby in you." The Monegasque moans into her skin. It was making her feel in a way that had her squeezing her legs together.

They continued riling her up the entire way back to their hotel room. Even getting hands in the elevator and in the hall, which was thankfully empty.

Max gets the door to the room open. Then, the two males waste no time litterally ripping the dress off of her. Her clothes are gone in seconds.

Their hands are everywhere she doesn't want them. She's left squirming beneath their hold. Pinned to the bed in a way that leaves her more vulnerable. Every peice of herself exposed to them.

And they know exactly what they're doing.

Max runs a single finger over her slit. "Look, Charlie, I think she wanted this."

"Already so wet for us chéri." Charles moves from where he was attacking her neck down to her tits and attacks them instead. His tongue doing a number on the sensitive area.

Max slips a finger inside of her. To slow for her liking. She tries to buck her hips to get more friction only for Max's unoccupied hand to put more wait on her hips. "This is what you get for teasing us in that dress."

"Mm Maxy, think about how she'd look in the dress all swollen with our child." Charles hands barey touch her stomach, and yet it still has her back arching.

Max jumps off of her and is immediately pulling Charles up with him. He gives her a pointed look and tells her to stay.

And then their hands explore each other. Peeling each piece of clothing off the other in record time.

"If you're trying to get me to cum now to you have an advantage, it's nit going to work." Charles says as Max rolls his eyes and stops any movement he was making.

"I have an idea." Max mumbles.

"That's never a good sign."

"Well fine! I guess you don't want to hear how we could make this even."

The female looks between the two bickering and is interested in what he has to say. But also scared. Scared the she won't be able to walk for a week.

And she's right because soon enough, she is lying back against Charles with his cock inside of her. She can't stop moaning as Max leans over the top of them.

Even. She officially hates that word. And yet here she is being turned on by the fact that both boys will be inside her at the same time. Fingers crossed, they don't rip her open in the process.

"You sure you wanna try this?" Max looks at her for approval, and even with her initial fear, she knows they would never hurt her.

"Just go slow, please."

Max starts slow. Charles bites into her shoulder at the friction of her and Max. She can feel all of his muscles tensing underneath her as Max takes his sweet time pushing into her.

It hurts. She knows it won't in a couple of minutes. But right now, the stretch if it all burns like white hot fire.

When both are in her, they take care to help her relax until her body adjusts to the size. They wipe away her tears as she sinks into their hold.

"So good for us, amour. Taking both of us so beautifully." Charles exhales a breathy moan as if to further prove his point.

"Fuck schat, you look so pretty taking us so well."

And then everything went fuzzy. The friction of the two males was too much. Moving in and out in tandem; perfectly in sync with each other. Her thoughts seemed to be replaced only with them. Their breathing, the sounds, the feeling of skin on skin.

"Dobyou want it, schat? You want us to put a baby in you?"

She can't actually speak properly, but there is definitely a yes that can be heard in her moans.

Their praises are only pushing her closer to her breaking point. "I'm- please- I can't."

She doesn't even have time to warn them. She can't warn them. She can't hear them either. Her nails are buried in their skin.

They spill into her simultaneously. Their bodies are perfectly connected with each other. It feels overwhelming and terribly beautiful. The feeling of them spilling inside of her at the same time.

When they come down from the high is the hard part. Max slides out first, and Charles follows, slowly and gently. They collapse in a heap of exhaustion. The emotional tie and physical tie completely took their energy.

"Do you think maybe this time...?" She trails. Her question weighs on them.

"In time, mon amour. We'll still be here even if it's not."

~

Summer break is a time to recuperate. The three of you are on summer vacation, spending time together on the beach.

That night had been a month a half ago. The female had yet to realize she was late to her cycle. Opting to ignore it and assume she's just messed up for some reason.

The second to last morning of their trip, she woke up feeling absolutely terrible.

She snuck out of bed as quickly as she could without waking the boys who are much heavier sleepers than her anyway.

The nausea feeling was overpowering, and it didn't matter how stealthy she was. They woke up to the sound of her spilling the contents of her stomach.

And then every day after the the point everyone is concerned.

Two months and still no period, she finds herself at the doctors. The boys are back to racing, but with her state, she decided to stay in Monaco.

A decision she was now regretting while having the test from the doctor in her hands.

She is definitely pregnant this time. The paper in her hands says it clear as day.

It is only Friday. She has time to get out to the race to surprise them. And with that idea floating in her head, she calls Pascale.

~

Her and Pascale arrived to the track fifteen minutes into the race. The older woman is making a fuss over her as she tries to jog to the redbull garage. She was in Ferrari last time, and Redbull is closer to her anyway.

Pascale shakes her head as she watches the female slip into hospitality.

~

Max and Charles both made podium. She was absolutely ecstatic and even more so that Christian helped her get to where they would park.

They didn't notice her at first, even doing a double take at her and then each other. Then, with their helmets off, they ran to great her.

Their smiles were so big that she thought they might fall off.

They both attempted to embrace her through the divider, and she was able to slip her test results into the hand of Charles.

They looked at her skeptically before once again, having to leave her.

It wasn't until the cooldown room that they had a chance to look. Charles tentatively unfolds the paper and holds it out on front of him and Max.

The cameras got a lovely picture of the two hugging very tightly despite being 'rivals', and the happy tears from Charles could be made out even through the sweat.

Did it have people looking at the scene a little funny? Yes. She could hear the gasps of disapproval, but she didn't care. The teams know already and gave them the go-ahead over a year ago to make the relationship public.

She watches them with love and adoration.

~

"Definitely mine."

"No way! The baby will look like me!"

She rolls her eyes at the two. "Does it matter?" They look at her with mouths agape.

She is actively holding the paper that determines who wins. The paper that will tell them who the biological father is.

And she rips it.

Because no matter what, they are a family. The boys are looking at her endearingly despite the fact that she just took away their results. Because it doesn't matter. They are making their own little family and they couldn't be happier.

So, the argument of the last name order continues one.

#x reader #formula one #f1 fic #formula 1 #racing #f1 fanfic #max verstappen #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x charles leclerc #lestappen #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles lechair #ferrari formula one #ferrari racing #ferrari #forza ferrari #scuderia ferrari #ferrari f1 #redbull racing #redbull #redbull f1

[embrosegraves]

𝕊𝕡𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕀𝕔𝕖 𝔸𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥

(request) Kimi Räikkönen x Fem!Reader Kimi only allowed one person to truly know him. You.

Warnings: a bit of cussing, poorly google translated Finnish, and extremely brief research of cities in Finland. Briefly edited.

Kimi famously never allowed his emotions to be on open display for the people around him. He never let people see behind his frosty facade. He never let people get close enough for them to figure him out. He always kept everyone at a distance so there was no possible way for anyone to truly know the type of man he was. Excluding his parents, there was only one exception to all of it.  

You. 

Kimi never intended to bump into anyone on his break between seasons. He had chosen Pori specifically because he knew that no one he worked with knew enough about Finland to know where Pori was. None of his colleagues knew that Pori was roughly a 3 hour drive north west of his home town. With a population of 83 thousand compared to Espoo’s 310 thousand, it wasn’t an extremely well known place. 

Kimi supposed he shouldn’t’ve been so surprised when he bumped into you, causing your coffee to spill everywhere. But he couldn’t help it. He never would’ve expected to literally bump into someone he worked with. 

“Katsu se!” You exclaimed. Too busy trying to wipe off the spilt coffee before it could stain your coat too badly. [Watch it!]

“L/n?” 

Of course you knew who it was, how could you not? It wasn’t like you spent a majority of the year around him, battling it out every weekend for top spot on the podium. 

“What Räikkönen? Didn’t expect to see me over break?” You finally looked up and made eye contact with the Finn. 

“Why are you in Finland?” 

“Am I not allowed to go home during winter break?” This had stunned Kimi more than bumping into you. 

“Home?” 

Your annoyance had disappeared a while ago, the whole situation was too amusing for you to be truly annoyed. “Räikkönen, just because I race under a different flag doesn’t mean I’m not associated with another country. I was born in Pori, spent 14 years here before moving overseas.” 

After that the rest was history. You ended up spending more and more of your winter break around Kimi. So much time that the Finn found himself opening up more and more around you. At first he had been the same cold, closed off Kimi that you were used to, but soon enough his metaphorical ice walls began to melt around you. He learnt that your mother had been born in Finland and had met your father while on holiday. You told him that your father had moved to Finland to be with your mother and that you always spent winter break in Pori. You travelled so much for the rest of the year you found there was no point travelling between seasons. 

Throughout your time together, Kimi found himself telling you things he had only ever told his parents. He told you how he had wanted to eventually settle down and start a family. He told you that he truly did believe that Formula 1 was a hobby, that it wasn’t just something he said for the cameras. He told you that sometimes, in the privacy of his own home, he often thought about his imaginary daughters running around and filling his house with giggles and bright smiles. 

Eventually, the winter break would come to an end, and you would both have to go back to the rush of racing every weekend. About a week before preseason testing, you had been hanging out with Kimi in your living room. Talking about everything you had done so far in your careers. Kimi had smiled when you started to laugh at the story he had just finished telling. 

Watching you laugh at something he said had him feeling almost giddy with nerves. He had never felt this way with a woman before. Not one to let an opportunity slip by, he spoke up softly. 

“Y/n?” 

“Yes Kimi?” You responded, trying your best to calm down from laughing.

“Let me take you on a date.” 

“Kimi- what?” 

“I want to take you on a date. These last months have let me understand that everything I want in life, I want them to be with you.” He said. Taking your hand in his, he spoke with a sincerity you had never seen or heard in a man before. “Let me take you on a date and show you.” 

Your free hand had covered your mouth as he spoke. A month ago, when you realised what your own feelings for him were, you had become determined to never mention them. There was no way The Iceman of all people would feel the same about you. Yet here he was. Sitting on your couch and asking you to go on a date with him. 

“Yes.” 

Kimi gave you a smile that had become less and less rare the more you spent time with him. 

“Thank you.” 

It had been three years since then. In that time you had gone on dates in every country you had travelled to. You both celebrated every win and comforted every loss. Two years into dating, Kimi had asked you to move in and marry him and during the mid-year break, surrounded by both your immediate families, you had become Y/n Räikkönen. Kimi hadn’t cared about telling the other drivers or the media, and you had agreed saying that it would be far funnier if they found out on their own. So nothing had changed in your public routines. In your head you thought the funniest part of it all would be that no one on the grid knew you had even started dating each other. 

Neither of you had gone out of your way to avoid the other, in fact the other drivers often saw you both hanging around each other. Nobody had any inkling that You and Kimi were together as more than friends. Many gossip sources chalked it up to the two “outcasts” of the grid hanging out and left it at that. So it was a surprise to everyone when some fans had pointed out on social media that your signature had changed from your race number and maiden name to Räikkönen. 

Jensen and Fernando, being constantly online, had dragged Sebastian to immediately start searching for the Finn. What they had found was more surprising than your change of signature. Opening the door to Kimi’s drivers room, the three of them saw you sitting on the couch with Kimi lounging on your lap, asleep. You had one hand running through his hair as he slept while the other was scrolling on your phone. Looking up as the door opened, you smiled when you saw who it was. 

“Hello boys. Anything I can help you with?” You asked. Fernando was too shocked to say anything and Jensen had just started stuttering out incoherent sounds, so it was up to Sebastian. 

“There are fans saying that your signature has changed.” 

You huffed a gentle laugh, trying not to disturb your husband from his rest. “That’s because it has.” 

“But why?” Jensen had managed to get his English under control enough to start actually speaking. 

“Why’d you think it would change Jense?” You were having too much fun with this. 

“But you have never shown any interest in Kimi. And Kimi doesn’t show interest in anything, so when?” It was Fernando’s turn to get over his shock. “How long have you been married? Why did we not know?” 

By now Kimi was definitely awake, though he made no show of it. You could feel Kimi’s hand that was resting between you and the couch back start to gently stroke your thigh. You knew he was also amused. 

“I wasn’t aware I needed to tell you who I was interested in. If I’d known I would’ve told you three years ago.” 

“Three years!?” The three of them cried. 

Eyes still closed, Kimi mumbled to you. “Käske heitä naimaan. Nukun.” [Tell them to fuck off. I’m sleeping.]

“Luulen, että olet levännyt tarpeeksi, rakkaani.” You replied laughing. All Kimi did was groan. [I think you’ve rested enough, my love.] 

“If you wake up properly, I’ll give you a kiss.” 

Opening his eyes, Kimi briefly glanced at the three flabbergasted men still in his driver's room, before looking directly at you. “Teet kovaa kauppaa, vaimo.” [You drive a hard bargain, wife.] 

He sat up nonetheless and moved so you could place your legs over his lap. He looked at the others and spoke. “What else did you want to blubber about?” 

 Kimi was aware that he had a resting bitch face, and most times he didn’t mean to glare at people, but the three men in front of you had clearly been terrified of what Kimi might do if they stayed, so they quickly made their way out of the room. 

“I told you they would find out from the fans.” You laughed. A smile broke out on Kimi’s face. 

“I really thought they were smart enough to figure it out themselves.” 

“Sebastian I could understand, but we’re talking about Jensen and Fernando here, my love. They were never going to figure it out on their own.” 

“That’s true.” Kimi shifted you closer to him, so that you were sitting on his lap facing him. “I believe I was promised a kiss, Wife.” 

“How could I ever deny you, Husband?” You whispered, leaning in close and gently placing your lips to his. His hand moved to the back of your neck to pull you closer and deepen the kiss. Both of you aware of the three drivers that had yet to move from the other side of Kimi’s door. 

It wasn’t your fault if they saw something they shouldn’t’ve.

Okay, time got away from me for a bit but here it is!

I hope you all enjoyed!

Likes, replies and reblogs are always appreciated <3

#formula 1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fluff #formula one #formula 1 #kimi raikkonen x you #kimi raikkonen fluff #kimi raikkonen x reader #kimi raikkonen imagine #kimi raikkonen fic #kr7 #kimi raikkonen

[am-i-interrupting]

hazbin hotel vees who cheat on their s/o bc they just wanted to hurt them and manipulate them but instead of crying or yelling heir s/o legit laughs when they find out and then dump their ass bc they won't waste their tears on them? sorry I just dumped by bf bc he cheated on me and I'm a little sad and need a confidence boost

The one time I will add in Valentino. I don’t normally write for Valentino but for this one, I absolutely will.

Valentino

He’s not as secretive as he thinks he is.

Not that you think he was trying to be secretive.

You knew getting into a relationship with him that he would still be having sex with other people.

That wasn’t the problem.

The problem was when he’d act like that wasn’t exactly what he was about to do.

Then he’d come back just smelling of sex. Of course, that was normal for him but it always felt different those times.

It was when you figured out that he was going out to abuse Angel that you stopped caring.

You just waited. You wanted him to be the one to bring it up or slip up badly enough that it was extra fucking obvious.

It wasn’t long until that happened.

“I know.” “You— what? You already knew?” “Yeah, I did.” “Well, where are the tears, muñeca?”

You laughed.

“You wanted to cry? Cry over what? You? No. No, I’m not crying over a rat like you.”

He seethed when you called him a rat. His eyes narrowing.

“I have nothing to cry over except the abuse you put me and Angel through but I’m done doing that too. I’m gone and so is he.” “And how do you intend to do that?”

Not even a week later, his studio got blown up.

Velvette

She’d been acting weird lately.

You noticed it in the way she’d turn her phone away from you when she was on it.

She started going out more.

She started. . . wearing a different perfume?

Which was odd. She never strayed from her favorites.

Then she left her phone in the room with you, unlocked and facing up. It chimed.

Not wanting her to miss something urgent (as this was her business phone) you picked up.

It was not a business message.

You just stared at it. She came in the room.

“You got a message,” you told her as you handed her the phone. You silently got up. “I’m going to go pack.”

“Why are you doing that?” “Because I’m leaving.” “That’s it? That’s all the reaction I’m getting? Shouldn’t you be heartbroken?” “Why should I be heartbroken over someone who clearly doesn’t love me?”

Vox

Vox was probably the most successful at keeping his secrets.

He’s a very busy man so him working over time for multiple days in a row is nothing that isn’t normal.

It’s when you go into his camera room and see the security feeds still playing that those over time hours click in your head as to not being over time.

You’d come into the security room to try to convince him to come back on time but clearly, he wasn’t over working himself as much as you thought.

You sunk in his chair and watched, watched him flirt and tease and kiss and touch.

You felt anger bubbling up inside yourself.

You were angry, angry that your time and care had so clearly been disrespected and disregarded.

Slowly, you got up as you heard footsteps, his footsteps come closer.

He opened the door and closed it, leaned against it and sighed. You knew that sigh. It was his content one.

Well, if he was so content without you.

You began walking towards the door and that’s when he noticed you. He opened his arms with a grin.

“Darling, what are you— oh shit.”

You brushed past him and yanked open the door.

“See how well you do without me.”

The door slammed shut.

#vox x reader #hazbin vox x reader #hazbin hotel velvette x reader #velvette x reader #valentino x reader #Hazbin hotel Valentino x reader

[corroded-hellfire]

Good Girl - Eddie Munson x Reader

Collaboration with the amazing and wonderful @munson-blurbs 💚

Summary: When Eddie reminds you to take your antidepressants, little does he know that he’s stumbling onto one of your favorite kinks.

Note: This is a reminder to take your medicine if you haven’t today. Make Eddie proud.

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), praise kink, corruption kink, allusion to daddy kink, prescribed use of antidepressants

Words: 2.7k

“You’re seriously trying to tell me that Steven Tyler is better than James Hetfield?” Eddie gawks at you with a disbelieving shake of his head, turning off your Aerosmith cassette in protest. 

“I didn’t say that; I said that he has a wider vocal range. Which is factual,” you retort, snapping the tape back in place and cranking up the volume. 

But Eddie’s not buying it; he paces around your room and mumbles under his breath dramatically. Spotting the bright orange bottle on your dresser, he snatches it up and shakes it. “I thought these things were supposed to make your brain work better,” he teases. “Are you sure you took them today?”

It’s meant as a lighthearted joke, but his smile falters when he sees your gaze drop from where he’s putting on his little one-man show. “You did take your bye-bye sad pills today, right?”

You roll your eyes and grab the bottle from his grasp. “They’re called antidepressants,” you grumble, making no effort to hide your annoyance, “and, no; I didn’t.”

“I think my name for them makes them a little more fun,” he says as he flops onto your bed. “But why didn’t you take them?”

There’s no sense hiding anything from Eddie; he’s been your best friend for far too long and can see right through you. “I’m tired of having to rely on medication to be less sad,” you admit. “It’s, well, it’s fucking depressing.” The irony isn’t lost on you.  

Eddie sighs and lifts himself up on one elbow to look at you. “You know, people need medicine in order for their blood pressure to remain stable. Them not wanting to take the meds isn’t going to do anything except have their blood pressure levels either plummet or go through the roof.”

Tilting your head at Eddie, you shoot him an unamused glare. “My blood pressure is fine.”

“Fine,” Eddie says as he pushes himself up into a sitting position. “Go tell Wayne to stop taking his blood pressure medication because he should rely on his heart the way it is. We’ll see what happens.”

The daggers you’re shooting at Eddie only get sharper because both of you know that you can’t come up with a retort for that. When you don’t soften, not even a bit, Eddie groans and drops his head back. 

“C’mon,” he whines. “Be a good girl and take your pills.”

All of the muscles in your body seem to lock as one at the term. Heat begins to crawl its way up your body and you can only pray that it doesn’t appear on your face. 

“W-What did you just say?”

“I said,” Eddie starts, as if being annoyed he has to repeat himself, “be a good girl and—oh. Christ, does that…?”

“Shut up,” you snap with far more venom than you intended. “Give me my meds and forget it, okay?”

Eddie’s looking at you like the cat who ate the canary. The smirk on his face is becoming more self-satisfied by the second. “Oh, absolutely not, sweetheart. I just found out that my best friend in the whole world has been hiding her secret kink from me.”

“I said, drop it.” You clench your fists in a feeble attempt to ward off the humiliation. “We’re not fucking, so it’s none of your business what any of my secret kinks are.”

“Kinks? As in more than one? Oh, do go on.” He’s got a shit-eating grin on his face, but it fades when he sees your eyes welling up with the beginnings of tears. “Look, you don’t have to be embarrassed. We all have things that turn us on. Even pure, chaste, little ol’ me.”

Now that makes you laugh. “Okay, Mr. Celibacy over here…tell me one of yours. It’s only fair.”

“I think it would just have you clutching your pearls, Miss Good Girl.” He winces when you give his ankle a playful kick, but he obliges. “Fine, fine.” He puts his hands up in surrender. “I like the idea of corrupting a girl. Sweet thing getting ruined by a freak like me.”

“You don’t get enough of that shit talk from the meatheads at school?” Idiots like Jason Carver seem to have a never-ending list of insulting nicknames for him, with Freak being their go-to. 

Eddie shakes his head, frizzy brown curls brushing against his cheeks. “No, this is different. I don’t want to be called a freak. I just think the idea of a nice, innocent girl wanting me to corrupt her is hot.”

“Like…a good girl?” You’re trying to replicate his teasing tone from earlier, but it comes out more salacious. You bite your tongue, though the words have already escaped your lips. 

Eddie just chuckles, somehow oblivious to your gaffe. “All right, well played. Laugh it up so we can call it even.”

You unscrew the cap of the bottle and take a pill, washing it down with the water you keep next to your bed. “But, Eds, I took my medicine! See?” You stick out your tongue with an exaggerated aaahh. “Just like a good girl.”

Eddie’s eyes narrow; he’s not sure how to interpret the situation. To be honest, neither do you. “Don’t play this game with me,” he says, suddenly serious. “Because you get to forget all about this, while I’m stuck with blue balls for the rest of the day.”

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”

He nods. “Plenty of experience.” He rubs his sweaty palm along his denim-clad thigh, his eyes never leaving your body. 

“Lucky for you, good girls don’t let their best friend walk around with blue balls, do they?” This is it. It’s now or never. You walk over to the bed and straddle his waist, pressing your hands to his chest. His heart is beating a mile a minute. 

Any semblance of self-control is gone as Eddie hisses, “They certainly fuckin’ don’t.” His lips crash against yours in a hungrily, sloppy kiss. His palms are on either side of your face as he holds you impossibly close. Whether he realizes it or not, he’s grinding up against you, creating a delicious friction between your thighs.  

Eddie wraps a strong arm around your waist and lowers you down to the mattress. Lips never leaving yours, his hands slip up the inside of your shirt, his rough calloused fingers causing goosebumps to break out along your skin. When you’re forced to break apart for air, you take the opportunity to yank your shirt off over your head and toss it somewhere on the floor. Eddie copies your motions, so when he leans back in this time, your bra is the only material between your two chests. 

“So pretty,” Eddie mumbles as his kisses move down to your jaw. One of his hands comes up to cup your breast through your black cotton bra. “Such a good girl for me.”

His words have you whining and arching your back. It forces your chest even more into Eddie’s hand, which has him smirking as he runs his nose up to your ear. He places a soft kiss there before reaching down for the button of your jeans.

“You really do like it when I call you that, huh? Tell me, baby, did you ever think about me calling you that before? Lay here at night with your hand between your legs, picturing me calling you my good little girl?”

An almost pornographic moan slips from your lips as he speaks, and you’re barely able to concentrate on lifting your hips up enough for him to pull your jeans and panties off. 

“Wanna be your good girl,” you mumble, face heating up at the admission. “Just f’you.”

“Aww, how sweet,” Eddie coos, leaning to capture your lips in another soft, slow kiss. Your hands slide down his pale chest until they rest on the handcuff buckle belt that you’ve stared at so many times, always wondering what it would be like to take it off of him. 

“Pants off, Eds,” you say.

“Excuse me?” he says against your mouth. “What was that?”

A small whine tumbles from your lips before you squeak out, “Pants off, please, Eddie.”

“Much better,” Eddie says with a wicked grin. “That’s how good girls get what they want. Take your bra off, baby. I want to see all of you.”

Reaching behind your back to unhook the garment, your eyes never leave Eddie’s form as he strips himself of his jeans and boxers. All the times you’d imagined Eddie naked in your bed…they didn’t do the real thing justice. He’s long and wider than you expected, and even more mouthwatering than you could’ve hoped for. 

“Staring, huh?” Eddie says and you can hear the smirk in his voice before you even look up to see it confirmed on his face. “I’m flattered, sweetheart.”

“‘S bigger than I imagined,” you admit shyly. “Need—I mean, can you please use your fingers first?” 

Eddie nods, running his pointer and middle fingers through your wet folds before pushing them inside you. “Aw, y’already soaked for me, baby? Barely even touched you.” He continues fingering you as he nips at your earlobe. “Y’sure you’ll be able to take my cock, pretty girl?”

The nicknames have your head spinning. “Y-yes, sir,” you choke out, whimpering when he stops moving his thick digits. 

“Well, shit,” he says with a small chuckle. “Looks like you’ve unlocked a kink I didn’t even know I had.” He looks deep into your eyes as he orders, “call me ‘sir’ again.”

“Yes, sir,” you manage, feeling his thumb making slow circles over your clit. “Anything f’you. I’m a good girl f’you, sir.”

Eddie growls as he slides down so his nose is level with your sex. “Not a good girl. You’re my good girl.” 

“Your good girl. Only yours, fuck!” You yelp loudly as he starts sucking on your swollen bud, simultaneously fucking you with his fingers. Your legs tremble, which he takes as a sign to lap at your pussy with more vigor. “R-right there, sir. Please don’t stop. Please don’t stop, sir.” You sound pathetic, but it’s working for both of you. 

You feel the pressure mounting in your core as your orgasm washes over you. “I’m cumming, holy fucking shit, I’m fucking cumming—” But just as the coil begins to snap, he pulls away from you, chin shiny with your slick. 

“What the fuck?”

“Ah ah,” Eddie chides. “Good girls wait so we can cum together.” He spits on his hard cock, fucking into his fist a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. “Y’okay?” he asks, pushing the tip in only after you give him a resounding yes. The feeling of him inside you is one of ecstasy, and you wrap your legs around his to pull him impossibly closer. No one has ever filled you the way he has; no one has ever stretched you so deliciously. 

“Eddie,” you murmur into the crook of his neck. His hands grip your hips as he buries himself within your walls. “I-I mean, sir, y’feel…fuck…feel s’good.”

“Me?” Eddie laughs incredulously as he continues thrusting into you. “No, baby. Nothing compares to how good you fuckin’ feel. Nice an’ tight, aren’t you, angel?”

The new nickname sends shivers of pleasure down your spine, and you bite your lip as you squeak out an agreement. 

“Tell me, my sweet girl,” Eddie growls, cock twitching within you, “what would your friends think if they knew the freak was balls deep in your pussy right now?”

You can only moan in response, and Eddie beams at your apparent wordlessness. 

“Fucked the words right out of you? Cute little head of yours can only think about my cock, hm?”

“Feels…feels…” You wrack your brain for any descriptors for the waves rippling through your body, but you come up empty-handed; rather, empty-headed. 

Eddie’s all-too amused by this, pistoning his hips as he beckons, “Come on; good girls use their words. How’s it feel, baby?”

“So good, Eds. Y’make me feel so good.” It’s barely two sentences, but it placates him. 

“Aw, you like the way my cock makes you feel?” A sneer crosses his face. “Like when the freak’s cock splits you open? How about when I do this?”

Before you can register his words, he’s bringing his thumb to your already overstimulated clit and rubs it while fucking you. “I know you like that, angel. Can feel you getting tighter around me. Fuck, anyone make you feel this good before?”

“N-No, just you,” you manage, another wanton moan escaping your lips. 

“Good girl, using her words f’me.” Your pussy clenches at the praise, spurring Eddie on further. “Just wanna wreck you. No one else can have you but me.”

“Only yours,” you slur in your cock drunk state. Every nerve in your body feels alive as Eddie pounds into you. Your eyes flutter closed so when Eddie leans down and flicks his tongue over one of your nipples, it surprises you. “Oh!”

“Can’t forget about these gorgeous tits, baby girl,” Eddie purrs. “They deserve some love as well.” He laves his tongue up and down the swell of your breast before sucking the nipple into his mouth. A new decibel of a whimper leaves your throat, and it has Eddie smirking around the hardened bud in his mouth. 

Your hand comes up and tangles in Eddie’s hair, fingers ever so lightly digging into his scalp as he gives your nipple a particularly harsh suck. He pulls off with a pop, hips still pounding into yours vigorously. The motion of your bodies causes your bed to shake and your headboard to bang repeatedly and obnoxiously against the wall. 

Eddie gives the same attention to your other breast, exploring the soft skin with his tongue and lips before ravishing your nipple. It only adds to the intense pressure that’s already built up in your core.

“Ed—Sir, please. I need—”

His teeth grazing your nipple has your sentence ending with a strangled gasp. 

“I know what you need, baby,” Eddie coos, leaning up to hover his face over yours. “You’ve been such a good girl for me. Letting the freak use your tight little pussy. And you enjoyed it, didn’t you, sweet thing?”

“Yes,” you whine, practically a sob. “S-Sir?”

“What is it, princess?” Eddie asks, teeth clenched as he tries to stave off his impending orgasm. 

“Want you to cum inside me.”

“Fuck,” he growls. It takes him a second to regain enough composure to be able to respond. “Yeah? That’s what my good girl wants? To have the freak’s cum deep inside of her? Want to feel it dripping out of you and down your legs? Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll fill you up nice and good.”

Eddie bucks his hips a few more times before he cums, fucking his spend up into you with primal groans. “Take it—fuck, take my cum. Jus’ like a good girl.” He doesn’t stop until he’s soft and panting, flopping onto your chest without daring to pull out. 

The two of you lay there for a moment, catching your breaths and relishing in the post-sex glow. A post-sex glow that you’re sharing with your best friend. Your best friend, Eddie Munson, just had his dick inside you while you called him ‘sir’ and he called you ‘good girl.’

“Um, Eddie?” you manage, and he lifts his head as he finally withdraws and lays down next to you. “What…what exactly did we just do?”

“Well, when two people love each other…” He starts to tease you, but his face blanches when he realizes what he’s just implied. “I mean, like, as friends…”

“Right. When two people really love each other as friends, they discover each other’s kinks and have mind-blowing sex.” 

Eddie wiggles his eyebrows. “Mind-blowing, huh? You know that flattery works with me.”

“‘M serious,” you say, trying to redirect the conversation back to your original thought. “Where do we go from here?”

He considers this, tongue poking out between his lips in contemplation. “I’m spent; you wore me out with your insatiable appetite for lust.” He chuckles as you flip him off. “So I say we take a nap, and when we wake up, we can see what other kinks we wanna explore.”

“What other kinks do you have?” You rest your head on his chest and snuggle in as he wraps a protective arm around you, kissing the top of your head. 

“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” he taunts, yawning as he says it. “Sweet dreams, angel.”

“Sweet dreams, Daddy.”

“Oh, fuck me.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #Eddie Munson fic

[flowermiist]

A warm heart - II

Click here to check out past chapters if you haven’t ♡

Pairing: John Price x Fem!Reader

Sypnosis: Some time ago, you started a cooking channel on YouTube as a way to relax, have a proper hobby and teach others your favorite recipes as you improved your own culinary skills too. Fame wasn't something you wanted, you were more than happy with your 50k subscribers... Yet you never thought you'd stumble upon one of them.

Word count: 3k

A/N: Hii!! I’m really excited for this chapter (as with every other) I’d like to apologize if this took me more time than I intended, work has been quite heavy lately but all the kind comments make me smile soo much. Enjoy!! And please don’t forget to like, reblog and let me know your thoughts about this chapter if you’d like!

After leaving your car at Harrison’s garage, you take an uber home. The mechanic told you it would take about three days to properly fix what was wrong with the engine, you didn’t give it much thought.

You sit in the back seat of the Uber and place your grocery bags on your lap, you sigh and open your purse, seeing the small note with John’s number – It was written on an old receipt the man managed to find in one of the pockets of his jeans, using a black pen you always keep in the glove compartment of your car.

You sink back into your thoughts while looking out the window. You don’t know whether to call his number or not, you sigh and keep thinking, as intense as it might sound, you know that if you call his number and he doesn’t pick up, you’ll be too embarrassed to ever attempt to call him again – You promise yourself that if he doesn’t pick up, you won’t call again.

It wasn’t like you wanted anything other than to thank him again properly for helping you back there. John was nice, yes, but he was still a stranger and you didn’t really know much about him.

You turn your head to the other window and realize you’ve reached your destiny, you pay the grumpy driver and make your way into place.

The charms hanging from the keychain jingle as you open the front door. You sigh and close the door behind you, locking it before you start walking towards the kitchen with the grocery bags in hand as well as your personal bag that has the receipt with the phone number of certain man – you make sure to place the groceries where they belong and you kneel down to the drawers of the counter where you store the bags you used, might come handy anytime.

The tripod is still on the counter where you left it. You check the battery of your camera before grabbing the ingredients for the homemade sourdough bread you’ve been preparing for your next video.

So after washing and drying your hands, you re-adjust the camera to the tripod and begin recording the process, making sure the lightning looks good enough.

When you try to start the small oven to preheat it and have it ready for the bread, it does not respond which makes you confused since last time you used it, which was over a week ago, it had been working – not anymore, apparently.

What is going on? Why is everything you own acting up? First the car now the fucking oven, great.

Not wanting to get pissed any further, you choose to use the oven of your stove which of course, was bigger and would take more time to heat up.

This was going to be a long night for sure.

John finishes putting the clean dishes away, the TV in the background with some History Channel show he was not paying attention to, but it was just the background noise he wanted.

Not particularly interested in what the telly had to offer anymore, he turns it off and does the same with the lights of the living room as well.

John Price has always had a pretty strict rule for himself and for his house, to turn off every light he wasn’t using – except for the old lamp he had in his living room next to the couch but besides from that one lamp, every other room that was not being used did not need any artificial lighting.

As he’s about to walk towards the stairs, the man remembers the laundry he had put in the dryer earlier, he had completely forgotten about it – “Fucking ’ell…” the words escape his lips as he clicks his tongue in annoyance and moves towards the uility room of his house, where the clothes should be.

After opening the small lid of the dryer, John places the clean clothes in the basket, grabs the old iron and the ironing board. He has never liked to leave things to the last minute, never liked to do things in a hurry and do them badly. John knows it’s better to iron the clean clothes now rather than leave them all wrinkly and forgotten.

Placing the ironing board in the living room, he folds out the winkly t-shirt and connects the iron, waiting for it to start producing enough heat and get this shit over with as soon as possible.

Some steam appears and he grabs the handle, making smooth movements with the iron, moving it from from the neck to the short sleeve of the green cotton t-shirt.

Looking back at it, the material is still the same, wrinkly and with obvious creases. John gathers his patience and moves the iron again, using a rough hand to stretch the fabric more and trying to press one of the buttons to make more heat yet nothing happens.

His mind drifts towards today’s events as all he can hear is the sound of the iron against the clothes – Your smile was still in the back of his mind and the thought of the big possibility of you not calling his number crosses his mind. Was he too forward? Would you call?

Without noticing, he moves the iron over his thumb and part of the back of his hand, groaning out in pain loudly as the sharp pain immediately hits him. John quickly grabs his left wrist. “God fuckin’ damnit, old fucking thing!” – Endless insults rumble through his chest, escaping through gritted teeth as the man is scrunching up his face with discomfort looking at the back of his hand where the bright red mark on his thumb throbs.

The smell of burning fabric and steam catches his attention again, looking down at the iron burning his shirt he quickly grabs it and places it vertically, taking a moment to manage the anger rising inside him, his face almost red.

John lifts up the green t-shirt, his gaze darkens as he sees the dark hole over the sleeve of the fabric. “Awesome.” He states with anger and sarcasm as he throws the t-shirt on the floor and unplugs the iron, contemplating smashing it against the wall for a single second but knowing it won’t solve anything.

Breathing through his nose while calming down, he walks to the kitchen sink, gritting his teeth in discomfort as he washes the burning part of his left hand – A first degree burn, nothing he can’t handle.

The basket with clothes ready to be ironed remains forgotten as John grabs one of the aid kits he keeps inside one of his kitchen counters. The man clearly has experience with dealing with these superficial wounds as he loosely wraps some of the bandage around it, covering the red area.

“What a muppet.” He grits through his teeth, directed to nobody but himself.

When you finally finish the video, you look at the clock, it is around 21:30 and you are tired, however; you aren’t too tired to go to bed just yet – and besides that, there’s still something you want to do before going to bed or rather someone you want to talk to.

The bread has such a good smell, freshly baked as you cut a big piece and put some cheese, tomato slices and arugula over it before biting and almost melting at the delicious flavor filling your palate.

You walk towards your bedroom and open the drawer of the nightstand right next to your bed to grab the pack of cigarettes on the second drawer. You were never a smoker but you liked the taste of nicotine on your mouth from time to time, especially after such a long day like this one.

You open all the windows to make sure the smell does not stay inside the apartment, you may like the taste and how the nicotine relaxes your mind but you still find the smell of it sticking to your clothes absolutely annoying.

Walking back to the living room, you grab our purse as the cigarette remains between your lips, the string of smoke and the smell over you now, your eyes open more when you look at the old receipt with the man’s number and smile, grabbing the cigarette from your lips and exhaling the smoke out of you.

At this point, all you are wearing is a pair of gray lacy underwear and a white tank top.

You look at the wrinkled paper and gather some courage before you dial the number and press on the green phone icon to call.

John sits on his back porch, a cigar between his index and middle finger.

His attention is immediately caught when he hears the ringing sound of his phone back in the living room, where he left it before moving to wash the dishes. Who would be calling him at this time of the night if it was not work related?

He grunts as his knees crack when he stands up and walks back inside, seeing the “unknown” contact and quietly staring at the number. Could it be?... No, he does not want to get his hopes up.

“Hello?” A hoarse, masculine voice speaks through the line with a tone full of curiosity and some clear seriousness, you immediately smile, holding the cigarette as sink down on the swing chair of your balcony.

“Hope it isn’t too late.” You say, bringing your hand closer to your mouth and position and the nail of your right thumb between your teeth when you hear a low chuckle. He recognized your voice, of course he would.

“How are you?” The man immediately asks after you stop talking – If you were able to see him, you’d see the way he scratches the beard on his cheek and goes back to his porch, a small smile between his thin lips.

“I’m good…” There’s a small silence before you speak again, keeping the phone close to your ear with your left hand. “Wanted to thank you again for everything, you know…”

John hums in acknowledgement – “No need to thank me, it was quite an honor for me to help my cooking teacher…” Is he flirting? No, that has to be a trick your mind wants to play with you for fun.

“How’s the car, eh? Hope it didn’t stop in the middle of the road.” He slightly tilts his head to the side while speaking, changing the topic rather fast.

“Well… I left it with the mechanic, won’t have it for a few days – took an uber home.”

You could have asked me to drive you home – He wants to say as he takes a puff of the thick cigar between his fingers. Of course, he would not rush into anything. He was still a stranger to you after all and the thought of possibly sounding creepy cringes him.

“Sounds like you had quite the battle then, with all those grocery bags?” His tone makes you chuckle and that gives him some relief yet he doesn’t want to think much of this call for now.

“I did, actually. Came home and filmed my next video.” You say, forgetting about the cigarette between your fingers and you move your hand away from your face.

“Mhm… Next recipe then?”

“Yes.”

“May I know ’bout it?”

“Nope.”

John chuckles quietly and it makes you smile.

“It’s a surprise...” The calmness of your voice is clear and it resonates in his ears.

“I don’t mind waiting then.” His voice is just as calm as yours.

There’s a comfortable silence through the line when the question pops out and you decide to ask it, to learn more about him.

“You said you had experience with changing tires.”

“Indeed.” John responds, giving you silence of his own for you to speak.

“Well, you got me wondering if you were actually my mechanic in disguise.” It lights up the mood a little bit when you hear a breathy smile. John grins before replying.

“I could be, you never know…”

“Where did you get the experience?”

He thinks of his answer...

“Different places ’round the world.” It’s vague and definitely not enough for you to figure him out completely and you are eager to do so.

A hum sounds through your throat, you take a drag of your cigarette and exhale. Not keeping the smoke inside for too long.

“You travel a lot?”

“Quite a lot, yes.” His voice is still calm. John is pondering whether he should say more or leave it at that, he is not the most open man when it comes to his line of work.

“Business men travel a lot.” The suggestion arises in the air when your words are spoken.

“They do, don’t they?” The sarcasm he uses answers absolutely nothing, he’s messing with you and you can clearly tell he finds it funny.

“Maybe you’re a famous lawyer traveling from one boring conference to another…” Another one of your suggestions.

John can’t help but grin a little at your response – “No, nothing like that.”

“Doctor?”

“No, not that either.”

You sigh, you won’t deny this is entertaining but you were getting nowhere so you give it one final try – “Well... They say military men travel a lot... Are you one of them?”

“Correct.” A calm voice replies and you try not to cheer loudly at finally guessing a part of this man’s life.

“So you’re in the military?” You want to make sure you’re right, even if he was clear and brief.

“I am.”

The line goes quiet before you break the silence.

“Explains a lot then.” You try to sound unimpressed as you shrug and it does get to him because now he’s curious.

“Does it?” He moves the cigar to his lips again, taking a puff and looking up at the dark sky.

The phone call hides the teasing smile painted over your lips. “Yeah, you look it.”

Before John can question your words any further, you change the topic.

“I’m pretty sure there are evil gnomes messing with my stuff.”

Your words don’t fail to impress him as he exhales smoke through his nostrils.

“You believe in that stuff?” The thick british accent and his raspy masculine voice could not be more noticeable as he tries not to sound rude while making fun of your possible beliefs.

A chuckle escapes your lips and you pretend to act offended by his selection of words “And what if I do?” A brief pause – “First my car then my oven…”

It catches his attention, John tilts his head like some curious dog and keeps the phone pressed against his ear.

“Did the secret recipe go wrong?”

“Well, almost.” You sigh and elaborate. “So I got this… smaller oven, easier to use compared to the bigger one that comes with the stove but as I tried to preheat it, it stopped responding.” “I’ll have to get a new one tomorrow.”

With a sigh, you get up from the swing and get closer to have a view of the street under your building, you take another drag of your cigarette as you place your elbows on the frame of the balcony, feeling the cold breeze embrace your exposed thighs and caress your almost naked arms, moving your hair with it.

“Could help you look for a new one.” The same husky voice sounds through the speaker of your phone. John’s eyes dart around his back yard, a man like him is never fully off guard. No matter where.

“You’ve already helped me enough… I- don’t really want to bother you.” There’s some embarrassment in the tone you use, looking up at the dark night sky while exhaling a slow – thin string of smoke out of your lips.

The man gazes at his bandaged thumb then at his fingers holding the cigar.

“Wouldn’t mind a shopping expedition, could use one m’self.”

This catches your attention, curiosity enters your mind. “Yeah?”

John won’t admit the fact that he burnt his hand with the old iron because he was distracted, he would rather lie that sound like a fool.

“Got this old iron at home, burnt my bloody hand while trying to use it, burnt my goddamn t-shirt too.” Some embarrassment makes the british man scrunch up his face, he doesn’t want to sound like a potty mouth.

He clears his throat before continuing – “Would be good to kill two birds in a stone, ya get your oven and I get my iron… Some advice could be useful too – ’bout the iron, ’course...”

A small smile escapes your lips as you reply to the man on the line - “Sounds like a good plan then...”

“Sounds like it.”

“Could drive you to the store with me if that’s alright.”

Right, you haven’t thought about how you’d get there.

“Will need one.” Of course you will, dummy, You don’t have your car with you – Says that little voice within your head, the one that tries to prevent you from saying too much.

His deep voice is heard again through the speaker of your phone. “Right, no problem.”

John replies, his tone monotone and casual about it which you’re thankful for.

“What time can I pick you up at? Got all day.”

“I get out of work at five, a friend will drop me off at home… Is six too late for you?”

“Don’t worry ’bout it, six ’s fine.” John says calmly and you smile.

“I’ll text you the address then.” You sit back on the hanging chair as the wind moves your hair and you squish the head of the cigarette against the ashtray placed on the small glass table of your balcony.

“Six it is then.” That voice rumbles through his chest and without even knowing you just put your cigarette away, he sticks the head of the cigar against the wood of his porch, leaving a small mark, putting his own cigar away almost at the same time as you.

“Good night, John.”

“Sleep tight, Y/N.”

Taglist: @bumblebeesfromvenus @thesevi0lentdelights @zekes-beard @blckbrrybasket @shuttlelauncher81 @thychuvaluswife @airzonaaa @mamanmae @cadotoast @ateliefloresdaprimavera @heyitsmarimari @markitvz @live-love-be-unique @syoddeye @hyriefortuno (Let me know im the comments if you’d like to be added! Dm me for removals! ♡)

#captain price #john price #call of duty #john price x reader #cod #cod mw2 #captain price x reader #captain price x you #cod x reader #writing

[bloody-peach]

Anything For a Friend Part 1: A Friend in Need is a Friend Indeed (Hazbin Hotel: Alastor x F!Reader smut fic)

(gif made by me)

~~~♡♡♡~~~

Now Playing: Closer x Beautiful is Boring, Animal, Blood (please listen to these while reading this, you will not regret it)

Goodie bag: vaginal sex, anal sex, oral sex, cock rubbing, tentacles, mating season, monster sex, monster fucking, rough sex, cursing, creampie, wall sex, somewhat of a slow burn at first [let me know if i miss anything]

A/N: Okay, so before I continue, I feel the need to say something. I know Alastor is aroace. I know it, you know it, we all know it. In the show's canon, I completely respect that. I have a friend that's aroace, and I have a deep respect for them and the community. However, this story is outside of canon, where anything goes. Plus, in this, Alastor still doesn't normally feel sexual attraction towards anyone, except when he's in his rut. But he is not aromantic in this. You can say he's demi-romantic; there needs to be a very deep connection between him and the target of the affection in order for romance to occur, hence why it happens here due to him and Y/N being so close. So yeah, no disrespect is intended here. I just want to give the people what they want. Besides, I'm clearly not the only one who is guilty of putting Al in sexual situations. I'm just aware of the implications this could bring and tried to give it some respect to the character. So if you're offended by even the idea of Alastor being romantic or him having sex at all, feel free to skip this. I won't blame you one bit. Anyways, enjoy!

Taglist: @omniuravity @fatgumsurpremacy-remastered @neonvehk @moths-and-mantids

~~~♡♡♡~~~

It was the beginning of October. Something was going on at the hotel. Alastor was staying away from everyone, holing himself in his room. You knew this wasn’t like him. Today, when you first confronted him about his odd behavior, he pushed you away and ran to his room. He had a panicked look in his eyes, which was an expression you never saw from him before. That’s how you knew something was wrong. You asked around the hotel to find out what happened, but they just told you that they didn’t know and to just let him be. But you refused, you knew you had to help him somehow, regardless of what everyone else said. That night, you walked up to his door and knocked on it.

Alastor softly groaned, turning his head slightly to glare at the door. As he walked to the door and prepared his speech in his mind, he heard your voice. “Alastor...? It’s me, Y/N. Are you okay?” He opened the door and was surprised to see you standing there, a worried expression marring your normally cheerful features. He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair before letting out a sigh as he tried to control himself. “Y/N...” He muttered, his voice laced with a mixture of disappointment and frustration. Despite his efforts to push you away to keep you safe, here you were, like a loyal little puppy. He avoided eye contact and said, “I said I don’t want any company. Please, just go.”

You noticed how disheveled he looked, his suit in disarray and partially open, exposing the scar on his chest from his fight with Adam. His breathing was heavy, like he had done something strenuous inside his room. You focused on the task at hand, saying, “You’ve been avoiding everyone all day and been so distant towards me. You’ve never acted like that before. Did something happen?” Alastor’s eyes narrowed as he stared at you, his heart beating faster as he looked at you. He knew that he should maintain distance, but seeing you so concerned about him made it even harder to resist the primal urges inside him. With a deep breath, he tried to gather his thoughts and come up with an explanation that wouldn’t reveal what was really going on. “It’s nothing important,” he muttered, attempting to sound dismissive. But the worry in your eyes made him rethink his response. “Just a minor issue, really. Now please, go back to your room.” He took a step forward, trying to usher you away from his room. His tentacles were starting to emerge from his back, twitching slightly, antsy to just grab you and pull you in.

You look into his eyes and knew he was lying. “I know you’re lying, Alastor. Your eyes give away so much. Right now, they’re saying, ‘Help me’.” His gaze flickered briefly before returning to its normal coldness, masking the conflict within him. “No, really, I’m fine,” he lied, forcing a chuckle. “You shouldn’t worry about me.” However, despite his words, he couldn’t shake off the desire burning brightly inside him. With a pleading glance and then a defeated sigh, he reluctantly stepped aside, allowing you entrance into his room. “Come in. Please, sit down.” He pointed towards the antique couch in the corner, trying to distract himself with tidying up some papers strewn across his desk as you sat down. You noticed that his room was a total mess, things flung all over the floor, scratches on the walls and furniture. Even the couch you were sitting in had some claw marks embedded on it. As you looked around, he busied himself with picking up random items and placing them back neatly, hoping the movement would help calm his racing thoughts. But you noticed something. “Alastor...? You’re not okay. You’re shaking.”

Alastor froze mid-movement, his hands trembling slightly as he held onto a stack of papers. “Fuck...” He cursed under his breath, his eyes soon meeting yours. “I..I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to involve you in this. I promise that everything is under control.” He quickly set down the papers and attempted to regain his posture, fixing his suit and tying his bow tie nervously. “Perhaps we can chat in the morning when things have settled down?” He suggested, offering his signature smile. Deep down, he knew he needed help, but admitting weakness wasn’t easy for someone like him. For now, he could only hope that time would ease his torment. You got up and walked over to him, gently taking his hand and looking at him. You spoke in a concerned yet soothing voice, “Please...tell me what’s going on. I want to help you, Alastor. I don’t care what it is, I’ll help you no matter what.” Alastor hesitated for a moment, his mind battling between acceptance and denial. Finally, he let out a resigned sigh and gently gripped your hand, feeling a wave of warmth emanating from your touch. Despite his fear right now, Alastor found solace in your presence, knowing that you were willing to stand by him no matter what. Your unwavering support was both comforting and overwhelming; it reminded him how much he truly cared for you.

You and him were like two peas in a pod, the closest of friends. You two were so close, you were the only one permitted to touch him without any consequences. Even Rosie was surprised when she saw you two hug at one point. It was clear you both cared for each other deeply, but Alastor, being himself, was always one to deny it when others brought it up. But deep down, Alastor admired your compassion and putting others before yourself. He didn’t know why, it was something about you that drew him to you. If there was one person he could trust with his life, it was you.

“It...It’s my rut season again,” he confessed softly, averting his gaze from yours. “I’m usually able to handle this just fine, but...lately, I’ve been struggling to control myself, especially around you.” He gripped your hand tighter, his voice barely audible. “If I lose control, I know I’ll end up hurting you or worse - change into something...most unpleasant.” You smiled and cupped his cheek, turning his head to face you. “Is that what this was all about? Alastor, you had me worried sick.” Alastor looked at you, his eyes filled with gratitude and relief as he met your gentle gaze. Your reassuring words eased some of his anxiety, but the fear still lingered in the back of his mind. “Thank you for understanding. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said as he leaned into your touch. His heart pounded against his chest, the scent of your perfume wafting through the air. Though he appeared calmer, the tension in his body remained, a testament to the struggle he faced internally. You concern brought him comfort, but it also heightened his awareness of his inner turmoil.

In that moment, you made a decision. You looked him straight in the eye and said, “Alastor...if it really is that troublesome for you...I’ll help you through it.”

Alastor’s eyes shot wide and a small blush appeared on his cheeks, a look very unlike Alastor. He shook his head vigorously, pulling away slightly. “No, no, it’s fine. Really, I appreciate your offer, but--.” That’s when you hugged him before he could finish his sentence. Surprised yet pleased by your bold move, Alastor hesitated for a moment before slowly wrapping his arms around you, returning the hug. The warmth of your body against his calmed him somewhat, and he leaned his head against yours, closing his eyes. You spoke gently, “Alastor...I care about you. Deeper than just friends. I’ll do whatever it takes to help you through anything. Please...let me help you here.”

Normally, he would be repulsed at the idea of having sex. He never felt any sexual attraction to anyone, not even when he was a human. But even asexuals have their bodily urges, whether they want to or not. And since he became a demon, these urges became stronger, much stronger. He had thought about coming to you for this, but he was afraid of chasing you away. He cared for you as deeply as you did for him, and he didn’t want to ruin that. Finding a friend like you in Hell is like finding a diamond in a vast desert, and he certainly wasn’t going to go and throw that away. But seeing you being so supportive and seeing your want to help him, he started to second guess his choices. Maybe it was okay to let you help him. It was just a friend wanting to help another one out with something they were dealing with, and they were pretty close already. Plus, this could help him deal with the month much easier if there was someone to help him release the constant urges, and it was a way for them to make their bond stronger than anything.

“Alright, Y/N,” he murmured softly, his voice breaking slightly. “If that’s what you truly want, then I’ll accept your help.” In that instant, he felt a sudden surge of strength coursing through him, as if some invisible weight had lifted off from his shoulders. “Thank you...thank you,” he repeated, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. You smiled and wiped a tear away from his eye before you leaned in and kissed him softly and tenderly. Alastor’s lips parted involuntarily at your touch, his tongue tentatively seeking entry into your mouth. The taste of your lips against his own sent waves of pleasure coursing through his veins, making it difficult for him to think straight. However, he forced himself to pull away after a brief moment. “I...I can’t...I..I...We’re in public...” You were confused for a moment until you realized that the door was left wide open, anyone could walk by and see the current scene. You walked over and closed the door, locking it. You turned back to Alastor and said, “Now we’re in private.” Alastor blinked for a moment and then he let a low growl escape him, his eyes gleaming dangerously as he walked towards you. “Private or not..We need to focus on the conversation first.” Despite his words, he couldn’t ignore the animalistic urge gnawing at him, demanding release. You were a bit confused. “What conversation is there to have? Boundaries?” Alastor chuckled softly, tilting his head. “I suppose there is that, isn’t there?” Fed up by his attempts at avoiding the inevitable, you decided to lay it on him. You looked him in the eye and said, “I’ll just give it to you straight, since it’s easier that way. I’m open for making this friendship deeper. I’m willing to give myself to you if it’ll help you though this rut. I’m not worried about you hurting me, I can handle a lot more than you think. All I want to do is to help you, and there’s only one way to do it. I don’t know how you feel about it, but that’s how I feel.”

Alastor stared at you, his eyes widened and his heart pounding in his chest as he processed your words. This revelation was more than what he expected, but despite his confusion and apprehension, Alastor couldn’t deny the swelling desire within him. Slowly, he reached up and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle yet firm. “Y/N...” He breathed out your name, his voice laced with emotion. “You’re offering yourself...to help me..? Are you sure about this?” His eyes searched yours, looking for any signs of doubt or hesitation. The thought of having you so close was almost too much to bear, but he knew he had to be careful not to push you beyond your limits. You nodded, with zero hesitation. “I am. I’m more sure of this than anything,” you said as you cupped his cheek.

Alastor’s breath hitched at your determination, his eyes never leaving yours. Your touch sent electric shocks throughout his body, making it impossible to resist the urge any longer. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss, his tongue delving deeply into your mouth. You kissed him back deeply, wrapping your arms around him, softly moaning in his mouth. His tentacles stirred restlessly, eager for more than just physical contact. But he focused on the present, savoring the taste of your lips and the feel of your body pressed against his own. In this moment, all other worries seemed trivial compared to the connection you both shared. Alastor groaned into the kiss, his hands sliding down your back to grip your hips firmly as he pinned you to the wall. The sensation of your body against his, coupled with the sound of your moans, drove him wild. Breaking the kiss, he said softly yet seductively, “God, you taste divine...” His voice was raged, his eyes half-closed in lust. “Let’s...let’s get you undressed, shall we?”

With that, he began unbuttoning your shirt, his movements hurried yet precise, his mind fixated solely on satisfying his primal desires. He pulled open your shirt and the tentacles remove it along with your bra. You moaned softly as you felt the tentacles brush along your skin. Alastor’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of your bare breasts, his breath catching in his throat. With deft precision, two of his tentacles wrapped around each of your breasts, gently pinching and stroking your nipples simultaneously. Hearing your moans made his smile widen and his eyes close half-way. “How beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. The rest of this tentacles danced around you, exploring every inch of exposed skin, their movements slow and deliberate. Despite his best efforts, as he watched the tentacles remove the rest of your clothes, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that this was more than just a conquest - it felt like something sacred, something meaningful. Maybe it was.

You moaned as the tentacles wrap around you, they felt so warm against your skin. Alastor’s eyes roamed greedily over your naked form, drinking in every curve and contour of your body. His cock throbbed in his pants, straining against the fabric, begging for release. “You’re perfect,” he whispered. “Just perfect.” Without further ado, he took his jacket and shirt off and then pushed his pants down, freeing his massive member from its confines. It stood erect and ready, dripping with pre-cum, as he went up to you. He leaned so his lips were to your ear and purred, “Tell me, my lovely Y/N. Do you want this? Do you want me to claim you fully?” His tentacles continued to explore your body, teasingly brushing against your sensitive spots, driving you wild. You looked at him, your eyes and voice full of desire, “Yeah..I..I do..” You then reached out and stroked his cock while licking his neck. Alastor hissed at your touch, his entire body tensing in response. You stroked him gently, your hand warm and soft, sending waves of pleasure cascading through him. He looked at you, his eyes glowing red. “You’re killing me, sweetheart.” He grasped your waist, pulling you closer, aligning his erection to your pussy. “Are you ready for this?” He asked, his voice heavy with desire. “This is going to be rough, my dear. I can’t promise to hold back completely.” He paused, waiting for your answer, knowing full well that despite your willingness, you deserved to make an informed decision. You cupped his cheek again and smiled as you nodded. You spoke in a voice full of need and desperation, “Please...put it in...” You didn’t have to tell him twice.

His hips bucked forward, pushing his length inside you with one swift motion, causing him to groan in pleasure. The sound of your moan was muffled against his neck as he buried himself to the hilt, his member stretching you wide. His tentacles wrapped around you tightly, supporting your weight as he started moving rhythmically, thrusting in and out of you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, moaning at each thrust. Each powerful thrust send waves of pleasure coursing through the both of you, growing your arousals. Sweat trickled down his forehead as he lost control of himself. “Oh sweet Satan, you’re tight!” He growled, his voice hoarse with lust. “You feel amazing, so fucking good...” His pace quickened, becoming faster and harder, matching the intensity of your mutual desire. You couldn’t help but let out your moans, “Ohh fuck...so good..!” Seeing your eyes roll back in pure ecstasy and hearing your words spurred him on. His thrusts grew frantic, his hips slamming against yours relentlessly. “That’s it, take it,” he panted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Take everything I have.” The room echoed with the sounds of your passion, filled with gasps and moans. His tentacles brushed against your skin delicately, adding another layer of stimulation to the already intense experience.

As he kept thrusting, you saw him start to change. He let out a animalistic growl as his transformation accelerated, his body shifting under the influence of his primal urges. His antlers grew much larger, their points almost scraping the ceiling, while his muscles bulged with power. His eyes changed, the sclera turning black and his irises glowing red, drool dripping from his mouth that showed his sharp teeth. “Fuck, Y/N...” His voice was deep and guttural now, his full demon form now on display. “You’re mine, aren’t you? Mine to possess and devour?” Each thrust became more violent, his movements brutal yet tender, driven by an insatiable hunger only you could satiate. His tentacles pulsed erratically, eager to join in the frenzy, but bode their time to let Alastor be the star of the show. You moaned even louder, losing your mind over the pleasure. “Ahh..A..Alastor...! Y..Yes..! I’m yours..! I..I belong to you...!” Alastor’s eyes glowed crimson, his face contorted in a mix of pleasure and agony. “Yes!” He roared, his voice echoing through the room. “You’re mine, Y/N! My sweet, sweet Y/N!” With a final thrust, he came inside you, his seed spilling out in hot waves, causing you to cum so hard, your mind was gone. His final few thrusts caused a second orgasm to rock your body. His body shook violently and once he left his high, he slowly transformed back to his normal form.

He grabbed you and collapsed on the bed with you in his arms, panting heavily. He pulled you close, gently grabbing your chin, and whispering, “You’re mine, forever and always.” His tentacles finally joined the fray, caressing your skin gently, soothing the ache left behind by your passion. You held him, your hands gently rubbing his back. Once you looked at him, you saw that he was grinning mischievously. You were wondering why until you felt the tentacles grab you, wrapping around you. “You know I couldn’t hold them back forever.” Each tentacle danced across your skin, exploring every inch of your body, sending shivers down your spine. They slid into you and into your ass, mimicking his previous thrusts, stretching you wide and filling you up, going deeper than he ever could. You felt one tentacle slip over to your lips and when you let out a moan, it slipped into your mouth, going deep down your throat. You couldn’t help but suck on the appendage invading your mouth and filling your stomach with its essence. Despite the fullness, you couldn’t help but moan at the sensations, your body still craving more. “You’re such a precious little thing, darling,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. “So sweet, so perfect.” His tentacles continued their rhythmic dance, keeping you on the edge of pleasure. Despite his exhaustion, his eyes gleamed with desire, promising many more nights like this to come.

“You thought it was just one time, sweetheart? Come on now, you know better than that. Oh, this is just the beginning, my dear. We’re in for one wild night...”

~~~♡♡♡~~~

#hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #now if you'll excuse me #i'm going to go to bed #goodnight everyone

[holllandtrash]

6 to 1 | lando norris (part 8)

pairing: lando norris x leclerc!reader part 8 in the 6 to 1 series (read part 1 here)

exhausting is the word of the day. your fears are replaced by anxiety and there's only person in the world who can seem to make those feelings dissipate. lando had previously made it clear that he has no intentions to go anywhere, but does that statement still stand?

word count: 6.8k tags/warnings: some angst, poorly translated french and italian spotify playlist for this fic here

You swung open the door to Lando’s flat in the heart of London and disarmed the security system. He hadn’t been here for a few days and honestly, you didn’t intend on coming back here either. The plan was to go straight to Monaco from Silverstone tomorrow morning, that was why you brought everything with you to the hotel.

Now you had nothing except the clothes on your back, your phone and whatever managed to fit in your purse, which wasn’t much. 

You had left straight from the race, before the race even started, calling up the same driver that Lando had booked for you this weekend and you asked him to take you here, to Lando’s. 

Arthur had been texting you updates throughout the race, but you eventually turned your phone on do not disturb. You didn't care about the outcome, you didn’t care that Charles was let down yet again by Ferrari’s stupid pit stop strategy, you didn’t care about any of it.

And the drive from Silverstone to London was long. By the time you arrived at the flat, you knew the race had to be over, or at least close to it. 

But you didn’t turn on the tv to catch the end of it. Instead you headed straight to the ensuite and stripped yourself of the clothes that were still partly damp and you stepped into the shower. 

You stayed in there until your skin started to prune. When you reached for the soap you remembered that nothing in here belonged to you, everything of yours was packed away and you had no choice but to grab Lando’s. 

The scent of his body wash shouldn’t have been as comforting as it was, but at this point you had gotten so used to it, used to him.

When you stepped out of the shower you had very limited options. Either sit in the towel until your clothes had finished their run through the washer and dryer, or roam through Lando’s closet to find something to put on. 

It was a no brainer. 

The Quadrant jumper fell to your thighs, he always wore his sweaters a few sizes too big, he said he liked the baggy look. As for bottoms, he didn’t have a huge selection so you opted for a pair of basketball shorts and tied the strings up as tight as they would go to keep them from falling.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and knew that Lando would have a heart attack if he saw you. He always wanted you to wear his merch, and not for a promo shoot, not for an ad, but because that was how you showed your support. 

When you picked up your phone you saw you had a few missed calls, all from Arthur. You knew he was concerned, you didn’t tell him, or anyone, where you were going. You just sent him a text asking him to bring your suitcases with him back to Monaco tomorrow. 

And then you turned your phone off and curled up on the couch. You grabbed the blanket that had been draped over the back of it and pulled it on top of you. There was no reason for you to be as tired as you were, but it was the anxiety that was eating you alive.

You didn’t know what to say to Charles when you saw him next. 

You had no idea if Lando was even going to be coming back here now that the race was over. And if he did, would he give you the time of day or would he just ask you to leave?

You were terrified to look up the outcome of today’s race, terrified of the possibility of everything you said to Charles potentially backfiring. 

You ran through every possible scenario in your head until your brain went into shut-down mode and practically forced you asleep before you could cause a stress induced heart attack. 

There was a good chance you would have slept through the night had you not heard the chime of the alarm system going off, indicating that the front door to the flat had been opened. You stirred awake, rubbing your eyes as you sat up, glancing at the clock under the TV that read 23:18 in bright red numbers.

You didn’t let yourself think about how late it was though. In fact, you felt a jolt of energy rush through you when you turned your head and met the tired eyes of Lando. 

He didn’t look confused to see you. But he also didn’t look happy. He looked about as exhausted as you felt. You wondered how his race went, if you had somehow managed to get into his head too and ultimately fucked up his performance like you might have with your brothers.

Lando dropped his bag down on the floor next to his feet but he stayed standing by the door. You turned on the couch, sitting up on your knees to look at him. If seeing you in his Quadrant hoodie gave him any sense of comfort, he didn’t show it. 

He dragged his hand through his curls, an obvious sign of distress. He probably didn’t know how to feel seeing you. You could understand the conflicting emotions.

He finally decided on something to say, something that didn’t give you any sort of hint as to how the rest of the conversation would go.

“I feel like I shouldn’t have to say this, but you know you don’t live here, right?” 

“I know.”

“Okay,” Lando nodded, glancing around his flat.

 It was in nearly pristine condition, you made sure to clean before you left on Saturday. The only thing that stood out was the empty vase sitting on top of the dining room table. There were no longer any daisies in there, but you couldn’t bring yourself to put the vase away. 

He looked at you again, his jaw tense as he swallowed, “So why are you here?”

The answer was simple, “I didn’t want to go anywhere else.”

You stood up from the couch and Lando let his eyes rake over your body. If this were any other day, Lando would be making some sort of smart-ass comment about you wearing his merch. He’d probably roll his eyes and make a big deal about you using his products, anything to tease you, to get even a sliver of a smile out of you. 

But he stayed by the door. Was that for his own reassurance? Maybe he felt better knowing he could open it up if this got too difficult and slide out in the late London air. Wandering the streets of the city in the middle of the night might have seemed like a safer option than wherever this conversation was going to lead. 

Lando had said everything he needed to say. He had made it clear that he wanted you, that the ball was quite literally in your court now. Whatever you said, however you chose to act around him, would set up the precedent for your relationship moving forward. 

So when you reached for his hand, Lando felt a weight lift off his shoulders. 

“I didn’t want to go anywhere else,” you repeated, ensuring that he was really hearing you. You could have gone anywhere, Charles told you to take the plane but you were pulled back to Lando’s flat in London. 

That car ride gave you the chance to think about what happened. You could understand now why you froze in front of him in his driver's room, why you couldn’t tell him you made up your mind. 

It was such a rash decision, everything that happened, happened in such a short period of time. Finding out that Charles knew about Pierre and you, dropping bombshell after bombshell on your brother, deciding to put yourself first, something you never did. This series of events was fueled by adrenaline and you were hoping Lando would match your energy after running through the paddock to him, but instead he forced you to slow down. 

He could see your enthusiasm, why else would you have shown up at McLaren? But he didn’t want to be a spur of the moment choice. He wanted you to choose him because you meant it with every bone in your body. Not just today but tomorrow and the next day and every day after that. 

Running through the rain to confess your feelings was a beautiful gesture, but what good was a gesture if you couldn’t follow through with its intent? If there was a risk you would take it all back once the dust had settled? Lando couldn't take that risk.

But you being here now, in his home, waiting for him to show up without even knowing if he would…this wasn’t a gesture. There was a deeper purpose. You wanted to show Lando that you weren't going anywhere. 

Adrenaline aside, you were here. 

Lando crashed his lips to yours, his fingers holding your jaw to keep your face tilted upwards. Your hand trailed upwards to tangle your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck as you kissed him back. 

It was like nothing else mattered, just you and him. You could feel his smile grow against your lips. There was less urgency as you kissed compared to past times, just the desire to be present in this moment. His mouth moved against yours and you just knew this was the right choice. This was where you were supposed to be. With him.

You were breathless as Lando pulled away, leaning his forehead against yours. He took hold of one of the strings of your hoodie, his hoodie, and twirled it around his finger before using to pull you closer once again, attaching his lips to yours for another kiss, and then another and then another until you had to pull away because your cheeks were hurting so much from trying to contain your smile.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner,” you told him. As much as you wanted to escape from reality and be happy in this bubble you created, there were still a few things you needed to get off your chest. 

“I don’t even care,” Lando shook his head. “You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

“No Lando, I really am sorry,” your expression fell as your eyes found his. “You’ve made your intentions clear this whole time and I just led you on like it was some stupid game and I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Well to be fair, it was a game at first,” Lando chuckled. “And I’m still determined to move up your driver ranking, I reckon it’ll be a bit easier now.”

Carlos’ face flashed through your mind and Lando must have noticed the way you momentarily tensed. Standing right in front of you, it was almost impossible for him to miss the way your eyes glossed over. 

“What?” He asked, trying to make a joke of it. “You don’t think you’ll ever like me more than Carlos?”

“No that’s not-” this was not something you thought through. “I need to talk to you about Carlos.”

Now Lando was nervous. You had never expressed any interest in chatting about Carlos before, in fact you shut down the topic of the Ferrari driver a number of times. 

“What about him?”

“Um…” a sharp inhale passed through your lips. “I just- well it’s just that-” this was like ripping off a bandage, you just had to say it and be done. “Okay I kind of maybe sort of might have-” oh you were stalling. You took a breath and forced yourself to finish. “...kissed…Carlos…”

This was certainly not what Lando was expecting to hear.

“You kind of-maybe-sort of-might have kissed Carlos?” Lando repeated you word for word. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means I definitely kissed Carlos,” you clarified. 

Lando rolled his eyes and he started to turn around but you grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him back. You weren’t going to let this turn into a fight, not when things just started to get good.

“It was to prove a point!” You explained.

“To prove a point?” Lando raised his voice slightly, not enough to alarm you but enough for you to know that you really had to be careful with your words. “What point, exactly? That half the drivers on the grid are in love with you? This is common knowledge, Y/N you didn’t need to kiss Carlos!”

You were physically taken aback by that statement, “Wait, what?” 

Lando paused, eyebrows pinched together, “That’s not- that’s not why you kissed him?”

“No but we’re going to circle back to that,” you told him, pushing his words to the back of your mind for now. “I needed to prove a point to Charles. He needed to understand that what I do, who I interact with, shouldn’t matter. He should be able to race without worrying about me or what I’m doing.”

“Or who you’re doing,” Lando muttered and because you stood only inches apart, your best move was to hit the side of his arm to get the message across. 

“I didn’t sleep with Carlos,” your tone demanded his attention and Lando’s eyes widened as he immediately regretted letting those words slip out. “But I told Charles I slept with Pierre. I told him I liked you and then I kissed Carlos as well because he needed to get it through his head that my life is my life and he shouldn’t have control over it just because he races with you guys.”

That was the short version of it all. You knew eventually you’d have to explain word for word what Charles said but you were hoping right now Lando would understand enough so you could move past it.

Lando needed a second to process everything. The silence between you wasn’t deafening but it wasn’t reassuring either. 

“You did and said all of that today?” He asked.

“Yeah, before I ran through the rain to talk to you.”

“Oh,” Lando nodded slowly. “Oh, so right before the race start announcement?”

“I mean, I guess so.”

Lando knew something you didn’t. That was the only reason he was asking these clarifying questions, trying to piece the timeline together.

“You didn’t watch the race, did you?” Lando then asked, but he already knew the answer. 

“No, why?”

“You didn’t see where Charles ended up?”

“No, why?” You repeated, louder this time. All you knew was he was given a poor strategy that didn’t work out in his favour. “What happened to him?”

“He-” Lando looked guilty, like he didn’t want to be the one to break the bad news to you, even if what happened had nothing to do with him. “He DNF’d, Y/N. On lap like 46 I think, pretty close to the end.”

Your heart sank in your chest. Of course part of you felt responsible without even knowing what the cause was. Even if it was a hydraulics issue, even if it was the furthest thing from driver error, part of you felt at fault for his retirement. 

What if everything you said and did really did get into Charles’ head? What if it messed him up for the race? Threw him off his game even the slightest bit?

“You’re spiralling.”

You didn’t even have to say anything for Lando to recognise what was currently going through your head. He grabbed your shoulders and dipped his head a few inches to be at your level. 

“He’s fine,” Lando said, rushing to get that out. “He’s not injured, nothing bad happened. It was a mix between poor strategy and driver error but it wasn’t your fault.”

“This is exactly what he warned me about. I got in his head, Lando.” You tensed, wanting Lando to drop his hands from you. Physical touch wasn’t something that helped you in times of distress. “Charles is going to blame me, he’s just going to use this against me- why the fuck did I say all of that to him right before a race?”

“Because it needed to be said,” Lando scoffed, finding the reasoning that you were unable to. “Granted, kissing Carlos maybe wasn’t-” you shot him an icy look and he instantly shut up. Lando changed the direction of the conversation. "Just sit down, okay? There's no sense in worrying about it tonight. The race is over and you're not even in the same city as him."

Lando nudged you towards the couch and he was smart to grab your phone from the coffee table before you could do anything rash like call Charles and apologise. Did you owe him an apology? 

It would be so easy for him to blame you. 

And part you felt like you needed to take that blame. 

Lando sat down next to you in the corner of the couch, pulling you into his side. His hand ran up and down along your arm as your head rested against his chest. It was comforting, feeling each breath he took beneath your cheek, hearing his steady heartbeat in comparison to yours nearly beating out of your own chest.

“Do you think I’m a bad sister?” You asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes. 

“God no,” Lando’s lack of hesitation should have helped put you at ease, but it didn’t. “If Charles blames you for what happened, he’s the shitty sibling.”

You weren’t even sure if he had tried to get ahold of you at all. After the few texts you exchanged with Arthur, you stopped looking at your phone. And now Lando had it and he probably had no intentions of giving it back before the night was over. 

He knew you would want to call Charles. He knew Charles would inevitably guilt you into taking responsibility for what happened. He knew a face to face conversation would be smarter than trying to work out your problems over a phone call.

So Lando hatched up a plan to bring you back to Monaco. Neither of you could stay in his flat in London forever and with two weeks until the next race, the smartest thing to do was return to Monte Carlo. There, you could talk to Charles. You both could. Lando could explain that he had nothing but good intentions with his sister and you could draw the line with Charles so that the conversations you had over the last few days wouldn’t have to happen again.

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep curled up next to Lando. With his fingers tracing shapes aimlessly over the sleeve of the jumper and with how exhausting the last 24 hours have been, you finally felt a sense of security with him, one you hadn’t felt before. 

Lando waited until he knew you were fast asleep, getting flashbacks to that night he picked you up from the wedding, before he reached for his phone that was tucked away in his pocket. He was so careful not to disturb you, even typing with just his left thumb to keep his right arm tightly bwrapped around you. 

He sent a quick message to his assistant, asking him to book a flight for the two of you for tomorrow. When he got the confirmation that everything would be taken care of, Lando dropped his phone onto the side table and carefully stood up from the couch, using his other arm to scoop you up and carry you to the bedroom down the hall. 

You stirred in his arms, having woken up slightly but you kept your eyes closed until you felt yourself being placed on the mattress. Your head hit the pillow and Lando carefully brushed a few strands of hair out of your face. 

Now it was your turn to be brought back to that first night.

“Can you stay?”

You were sober this time, but Lando still had to take a second to process whether or not he heard you correctly as he stood next to the bed. When your eyes fluttered open to look up at his looming figure, you lazily reached for his hand.

And Lando couldn’t think of a good enough reason to say no. 

Why would he spend the night on the couch again? There was no requirement anymore. There wasn’t that prominent need to be careful around you anymore, not when you both made your feelings perfectly clear. 

So he nodded. A tired smile curled up on your lips before Lando gave your hand an affirming squeeze. He excused himself to get ready for bed but when he walked out of the bathroom a few minutes later, you were thankful that sleep hadn’t completely taken over you again.

You were awake enough to watch as he pulled his t-shirt off and tossed it in the corner of the room. His sweatpants hung low on his hips and the second he crawled into bed next to you, you turned on your side to face him. 

The lights may have been off but you could see everything you needed to. And even if you couldn’t, you could feel. You placed the palm of your hand against his hard chest before sliding it up to rest around his shoulder. Lando gripped the underside of your thigh and pulled it on top of his legs. Both of you were already well aware of how perfectly your bodies moulded together.

“What if I get used to sleeping like this?” Your quiet voice filled the bedroom. The question held as much fear as it did hope. Lando knew you had never been in a relationship before, he knew that something as simple as sharing a bed was unchartered waters.

His fingers spread out over your leg and his deep chuckle sent a shiver down your back. He turned his head on the pillow to look at you.

“Then it’s a good thing we both live in Monaco.”

He had a point. It would be easy enough to see each other between races if you were both back home. It was annoying, really, that you were already thinking about that. Thinking about how long it would take to make yourself at home at his place and vice versa. About whose flat you would spend more time at, probably his. All of these different scenarios filled your head.

You recognized the way the corner of his lips curled upwards and you didn’t need to be a mind reader to know he was thinking of the exact same things. And maybe you were both getting ahead of yourselves, this was still so new, but you were ready to dive in head first. You didn’t want to let your fears stop you from being happy.

You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his. He kissed you back but there was some hesitancy on his part and you noticed it.

“What?” You asked, propping yourself up a bit. 

Lando opened his mouth, only to promptly close it. And you weren’t someone who let things go easily so you nudged his shoulder and repeated yourself.

“What, Lando?”

Whatever he wanted to say, seemed to cause him physical discomfort but he tried to play it off like it didn’t.

“It’s nothing, really,” Lando told you. You counted in your head, waiting to see how long it would take until he followed that sentence with a ‘but’.

Three. Three seconds.

“But I just-” Lando sucked in a quick breath. “If I’m being honest, I don’t like that you kissed Carlos.”

If there was any doubt before, you were certainly awake now.

“That’s what you’re thinking about?”

“Well you can’t blame me for thinking about it!” He exclaimed with a chuckle. It was clear he wasn’t angry about it, but it was something that wasn’t sitting right with him. “He’s one of my best mates and you always said there was nothing going on between you two.”

“There isn’t,” you rolled your eyes. “There never has been.”

“But you kissed him.”

“To prove a point to Charles,” that ultimately backfired, but still. “Carlos just so happened to be there, if it was any other driver I would have done the exact same thing.”

“I don’t think that makes me feel any better.”

“Well what do you want me to say, Lando?” You asked, trying your hardest to not sound annoyed at this topic. You genuinely didn’t want this to turn into an argument, but you could understand where he was coming from. You just weren’t sure if he understood where you were coming from.

And then a cocky little smirk appeared on his face, “Well, you could say I’m above him on your driver ranking.”

That’s what he was waiting for. An opportunity to slide that in.

He wasn’t actually concerned like he led you to believe. You pushed on his chest and laid back down as he laughed. Lando tried to hold you against him but you turned on your other side, facing away from him.

“You’re so fucking annoying.”

“I know,” he continued to laugh, still wrapping his arms around you and shuffling closer so your back was pressed against his chest. You purposely tensed in his arms, wanting him to know you were unimpressed with him.

But then Lando kissed the side of your neck softly and it was almost embarrassing how you instantly found yourself relaxing, and leaning into his touch. 

You didn’t realise until right now, though, how thankful you were that Lando’s playful interactions weren’t going anywhere. Your entire friendship was built on a foundation of jokes and eye rolls and purposely trying to get on each other's nerves, in the most respectful way possible. 

And that wasn’t going to change. You might respond to each other’s teases a little differently now, but ultimately, the thing that brought you two together seemed to be the glue that was going to keep you together. 

“You still need to work for it, Norris,” you told him, referring to moving up in the placement of favourite drivers. If you were being honest with yourself, he probably didn’t have to work that hard, but now that the dynamic between you two had shifted, you were dying to know what he would come up with this time.

——————

Lando sprung the flight on you as soon as you woke up and it seemed to be not up for discussion. You couldn’t hide away in his London flat forever. Plus, all of your belongings were with Arthur, so you had no choice but to go home.

Lando and you agreed to keep some distance at the airport. He was easily recognizable, especially in London, but you weren’t and you wanted it to stay that way for at least a little while. The last thing you needed were photos of the two of you to surface before you had a chance to talk to your brother.

Really you just had to keep your hands to yourself until you were comfortably seated on the private plane his assistant had booked for today. It blew your mind how easy it was for him to request and receive a jet and a pilot, but you weren’t about to complain. Not having to worry about prying eyes or cell phones throughout the duration of the fight was like a breath of fresh air. 

Once the plane had taken off, he asked if you wanted to join the mile high club. Granted, he wasn’t being serious but you promptly switched seats to sit across the aisle from him instead and put your airpods in.

“Is that a no?” Lando asked before you could turn your music on.

“It’s a no right now,” you answered. His cheeks turned a bright shade of red and you rolled your eyes at his immature tendencies. 

You kept your head down and started to read on your phone, but out of the corner of your eye you could see him shifting uncomfortably in his seat. When you did finally lift your head, you watched as Lando peeled off his jumper and placed it in his lap. Automatically your eyes dropped and your eyebrows raised when you realised what he was trying to hide.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You asked, stifling your laughter. “You’re hard?”

“I’m only human,” Lando shrugged innocently. 

With your elbow on the armrest, you dropped your chin to your hand and sighed, “Lando, I’m not having sex with you for the first time on a plane.”

“But the way you say that makes it seem like it could happen,” he pointed out, clearly playing this up even though it was only making his situation worse. 

“You have the mind of an eighteen year-old frat boy, do you realise that?”

“Or maybe you’re just really hot and also, I’m really into you.”

You glanced down at your apparel. You were still choosing to wear Lando’s clothes because it was a lot easier to throw that on this morning than have to wait for a load of laundry to finish so you could wear the clothes you wore yesterday. Lando didn’t seem to mind either. You walked out of his closet wearing one of his shirts and he responded by kissing you, muttering something about he much preferred this than a DR3 item.

But you didn’t feel hot. His clothes were baggy on you, you hadn’t showered yet today and any makeup that you had on was the result of not washing your face properly before you passed out, which you’d probably be paying the price for tomorrow. 

Lando didn’t see what you saw though. He looked at you from across the aisle and thought, no, knew, you were the most beautiful girl he would ever lay eyes on. To him, he didn’t care what you were wearing.

And if anything, you wearing his clothes made you ten times hotter.

However you didn’t want to feed into his thoughts. You had enough will power for the two of you.

“Keep it in your pants, Norris.”

He muttered something under his breath that you didn’t quite catch but you could assume it was another comment about joining the mile high club. 

He got up after a while to use the bathroom, or at least that’s what you thought when out of the corner of your eye you saw him toss his hoodie aside and stand up from the chair. 

You didn’t expect him to walk directly to where you sat and take your face in his hands before leaning down and kissing you. You sat up straighter, completely abandoning your phone as you craned your neck upwards, wanting to kiss him back with as much passion as he was giving you.  

Lando’s hand trailed down the slightest bit, grabbing hold of your jaw before he pulled away.

“What was that for?” You asked, unable to stop yourself from smiling. You could get used to this, Lando kissing you whenever he felt like it. 

“No reason,” he shrugged, which was probably the best reason. 

Your smile only grew as he kissed the top of your head, letting his hand run down your arm as he walked off, making sure to give your fingers a squeeze before he made his way towards the back of the airplane.

It was safe to say you were smitten, and horribly so.

When Lando returned from the bathroom he sat down next to you, and you were fine with that on the condition he stop it with the mile high club jokes. Not because they were annoying, but because if he didn’t stop giving you that devious look and charming grin, you could be coerced into meeting him in the bathroom.

And you really didn’t want that. 

Well, you did. But not for your first time. And Lando knew this. 

He could wait, you both could. In the meantime, though, Lando let his hands wander when you draped your legs over his lap. What started as a very innocent hand placement on your thigh slowly turned into his fingers creeping upwards, tickling your bare skin and causing very visible goosebumps.

His thumb dipped below the very loose material of the shorts you wore and your eyes shot up, warning him with a glare. The last thing you needed was for him to tease you while you were 35,000 feet up in the air.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His smirk said otherwise.

He kept his hand on you for the duration of the flight. You held your breath any time his fingers trailed up your leg. Lando’s touch was soft and you just knew it was a major contrast to what he wished he could have been doing. You saw the veins along the back of his hand, you knew just how much strength he had in his wrists alone. 

But he respected what you asked. He didn’t cross any sort of line, even if he was dying to.

So you just suffered, basically, for the entire flight. Because Lando wasn’t going to take his hands off of you but he also wasn’t going to do anything that would ease your suffering. 

It wasn’t until the plane landed in Nice did he lift his arms up to stretch, an all too innocent smile perched upon his face. You rolled your eyes but before you could get up, Lando pulled your face to his to kiss you once more in the privacy of the jet. 

There was intent behind it. His lips moved against yours in a way that told you these last few hours of subtly teasing you on the plane wasn’t for nothing. 

You were still smitten, but now you knew he was most certainly going to be the death of you.

He had the decency to tone it down once you both stepped off the plane and headed towards the car that was waiting on the tarmac. Lando gave the driver your address, and you raised your eyebrows at him.

“You have it memorised?”

He chuckled, “Is that- is that a bad thing?”

“You’ve been to my place once.”

Lando simply shrugged his shoulders and opened the door for you. He waited until you had your seatbelt on to shut it and climb in through the other side. 

“You happy to be home?” He asked you quietly, trying to gauge how you would answer. You had been in the UK for weeks now that it was genuinely starting to feel like home. 

“I’m happy that we’re both here,” you answered because it was as honest as you could be. Was Monaco really where you wanted to be right now? No. Ideally you would still be in London with Lando. But you couldn’t run from Charles forever. You had to talk to him eventually.

Lando placed his hand on your leg when you saw you pulling out your phone to call Charles after putting it off for what seemed like forever when in reality it had been less than 24 hours since you last spoke. 

The dial tone seemed to go on for an eternity. And just when you thought he was going to pick up, you reached his voicemail instead. You looked at Lando, who calmly reminded you that he might be busy and that you have another brother who was also still in Silverstone. 

Arthur picked up instantly. 

“Have you heard from Charles?” You asked, not even bothering with a ‘hey, how’s it going’. You wanted to get right to the point.

“Uh, yeah I think he’s on a plane to Italy. Pretty sure he’s spending a few days in Maranello.” Arthur recalled. “He didn’t tell you?”

You dropped your forehead to your hand and sighed, “No, obviously not or I wouldn’t be calling you. When will he be home?”

“I think Saturday?” Arthur genuinely had no idea and as frustrated as you were that you couldn’t talk to Charles face to face, you couldn’t take it out on Arthur. “Are you in monaco?”

“Sto tornando a casa,” I’m on my way home. You glanced at Lando who now had his eyebrows pinched together as you switched from English to Italian. You put your hand on top of his and gave it a squeeze, an assurance that you were not talking about him in a different language. 

Arthur and you chatted for a bit more, he told you he’d be home by tomorrow night and that he’d bring your luggage with him. He then mentioned something about getting together with your mother Saturday evening, something that you really couldn’t say no to. It was rare that all four of her kids were all in Monaco at the same time, so when you were, you had to take advantage of it.

“Je serai là pour le dîner,” I’ll be there for dinner. You looked at Lando again, who had stayed quiet for the entirety of your conversation with Arthur. He couldn’t keep up with you switching from English to Italian to French anyway.

He wasn’t looking at you, though. With his free hand, he was scrolling through some pictures on his phone. More specifically, the ones from the Quadrant shoot last week. He kept swiping back and forth between two of them. 

One, where he was so obviously looking at you instead of the camera as you stood in front of the car, you were turned away from the camera to showcase the design on the back of the shirt. He was supposed to be looking at the camera, but he wasn’t. You remembered telling him to stop looking at you because the longer he looked at you the more your cheeks hurt from trying to contain your smile.

And then the other photo was one you weren’t even aware had been taken, you hadn’t seen it yet. Lando was facing the camera and you were slightly behind him, watching as he did his best model impersonation. 

But you were really looking at him. In a way where you would have been embarrassed if he had caught you staring for too long. If he had turned around and noticed you, you would have averted your gaze immediately, but you couldn’t help it. You were enamoured with him. You didn’t want to pull your eyes off of him. Even if you didn’t want to admit it then, you knew now that you were really starting to fall for him. 

Who plans a surprise photoshoot for you to model his own brand? 

Lando does, apparently. 

He was the same guy who made sure there were fresh daisies in a vase when you walked into his flat. The same guy who picked you up without question when you were too intoxicated to even stand up straight. The same guy who had been looking at you the way you looked at him this whole time and you had no idea. 

Lando opened up the Instagram app on his phone right as Arthur repeated your name a few times, wondering if he had lost you in the last few seconds. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you said. 

He started talking about dinner again, and you cut him off before you could change your mind. 

“Puis-je apporter un invité?” Can I bring a guest?

Arthur paused, “You mean Lando?”

He took your silence as a yes.

“Do you really think that’s smart?” Arthur asked. “Don’t you want to talk to Charles first before bringing Lando to dinner? Are you two even dating? What if-”

“You’re asking too many questions,” you interjected. Beside you, Lando chuckled. He turned his hand over to interlock your fingers together. He had no idea what Arthur was saying, but it didn’t matter, Lando would always be on your side.

“If you want to bring him, don’t give Charles a heads up. Otherwise he might not show.”

You snickered, “You think I should blindside him?”

“I didn’t use that word.”

“You basically did.”

Arthur sighed into the receiver, not wanting to be more involved in whatever decision you were going to make, “I’ll let you know when I’m home. Talk to you later, yeah?”

“Yeah, have a safe flight,” you said and then hung up. As soon as you did, you rested your head on Lando’s shoulder. Without skipping a beat, he turned and kissed the top of your head. 

You looked at your hands, still connected on your lap. 

Your stomach twisted just thinking about what might happen if you really did invite Lando to the dinner. You never came out and explicitly said you would, hence why you asked Arthur in French as opposed to a language Lando would understand. 

That way you could still change your mind. 

Not because you didn’t want to bring Lando around your family, your family already knew who he was, but because you needed to really think about if his presence would be helpful or if it would cause a deeper divide between you and Charles. 

landonorris

liked by danielricciardo, team_quadrant and 314,987 others

tagged: team_quadrant, ynleclerc

landonorris part time gamer part time model

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ynleclerc don't you also drive fast cars?

landonorris only sometimes, not enough to put it on the resume

team_quadrant our favorite merch drop

daniel_ricciardo ric3.com

yn_daily rip to the people who wanted her and carlos to get together

siinz55 still waiting to hear what charles thinks about this

part 9 here | masterlist here

taglist: @moneymasnn@thotd-f1 @masonspulisic @mcmuppet@f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63 @alilstressyandlotdepressy @themisric @happydazzz123 @moonxblossom @norrisleclercf1 @scarlettisconfused @sbgal @e-lisa-bettan @harrysdimple05 @ophcelia @alesainz @fandomxs1 @majx00 @sbgal @mehrmonga @themockingjayreader @f1mockingjay @topguncultleader @lclrnelliluvs @moonxblossom @dr3lover @andrewgarfields-girlfriend @noescapricho-essentimiento if i missed someone im so sorry

#lando norris #lando norris au #lando norris instagram edit #lando norris social media au #lando norris fic #f1 requests #f1 #f1 fic #formula 1 #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #holllandtrash

[safetycar-restart]

KINKTOBER DAY 12: CAUGHT MASTURBATING [CHARLES LECLERC X READER]

NOTE: This fic is NSFW and features sub!Charles and dom!reader. I also added mommy kink to this one despite it not being mommy kink day because it just works. So if you're under 18 or uninterested in this kind of thing, scroll past. Alternatively if you like what you see here, check out the rest of my blog :))

This fic forms part of a kinktober series where we discuss a different kinky concept with a different motorsports person every day. We also discuss the concepts in more detail through answering asks so if you have any of your own thoughts, feel free to stop by!

Charles tries to wait, really he does. He tries to watch random things on TV, tries to workout, tries to call some friends, tries to play some piano and even tries to read a book. But no matter what he tried, he couldn't keep his mind off it.

Because your poor little darling was horny. Way too horny.

He had woken up hard, as he almost always does. This time you were with him, so naturally he immediately snuggled up against you, slowly grinding against you and waiting for you to wake up so you can make him feel good.

Except when you did wake up, you had to get up immediately because you had agreed to breakfast with some friends. You would have been late if you stayed and gave Charles the attention he wanted.

Naturally he gets all pouty when you tell him, whining and trying to get you back into bed. He pulls out the big guns and mumbles, 'mommy' over and over because he's needy! He's needy and horny and you're supposed to help him but now you're leaving!

You tell him that you're just going out for breakfast and that you'll be back in about two hours, giving a nice kiss and telling him to go make himself some breakfast and be a good boy for you. He nods, because of course! He will always be a good boy!

So you leave and it starts off well enough. You told him to go make himself breakfast, so he goes to make himself breakfast. But after that, he's still horny! He has run out of tasks from you to distract himself and he's still horny! He knows he's allowed to masturbate, but he also knows you would help when you got back if he hadnt, so he tries his best to distract himself and not touch himself.

But he can't help it! He does as many things as he can to distract himself but he can't do it. He's so hard and he keeps on thinking about what you might do to him when you get back and he just.... he's alone and he's horny and he misses his mommy and there's no way in hell he'd be able to do anything else at this point.

Which is how he finds himself back in the bedroom. He grabs one of your hoodies from the closet, intending to put it on but he doesn't get that far because he ends up just collapsing not the bed, his free hand moving down to touch himself.

That's how you find him, laying on his back on the bed, his head buried in your hoodie, his hand down his boxers. He's letting out little whines as he slowly strokes himself, not noticing you because he's got his head hidden in your hoodie.

You spend a little while just watching him, watching your good boy playing with himself on your bed, hiding in your hoodie. You wait until you can see he's getting close to make yourself known.

"Charles?" you call, watching the way his head shoots up and he turns to see where you are.

“Mommy?” He asks, hand still in his boxers.

“Well isn’t this a pretty thing to come home to,” you tell him, moving forward to sit on the bed.

You want to praise him immediately so that he knows he isn’t in trouble. Sometimes when Charles gets like this he’ll be scared you’re upset with him for touching himself. Which no, of course you aren’t. You could never be upset with him for that.

“Making yourself feel good?” You ask him, cupping his cheek. He nods and turns his head to rest in the palm of your hand, eyes fluttering closed as his hand starts to move again.

You decide to let him carry on jerking himself off, rather than interfere too much. But you do make him take off his boxers and use some lube, just so you can see better.

He’s such a whiney mess for you, trying to put on a good show for his mommy but also feeling too good to be able to really concentrate on looking good.

The moment he cums, he’s crawling into your arms for cuddles and to hear about how your breakfast went.

#kinktober tag #sub!charles #cl #f!reader #nsfw. #Charles Leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #Charles Leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #f1 x reader #f1 smut #f1 imagines

[vanwritesfan-fiction]

Wants and Needs

Pairings: Husband!Travis Kelce x Wife!Reader

Words: 866

Warnings: Talks of smut, making out, nothing too crazy

Everything Travis did today was making you horny. It sounds crass, but a lot of people don’t talk about how difficult it is to basically have a “Greek god” walking around your house, especially when you’re ovulating. You wasted most of your Sunday just watching him complete chores around the house, your core twitching every time he flexed his biceps, or you got a glimpse of his bulge in the tight shorts he wore around the house. You damn near orgasmed, a small moan slipping from your lips when he got out of a shower, a small towel around his waist just begging to fall to the floor.

Technically you could jump his bones at your discretion, and he was always willing and eager, except for on one occasion. Travis had few rules when it came to his job, usually going with the flow, but there was one he had never broken in all the time you had been together: No sex the day before a game. At first you thought he was joking, what man was going to say no to sex, but he was dead serious. He claimed that sex messed with his game performance, especially sex with you, and he didn’t need any distractions with the season going so well. Unfortunately for you, for almost six months out of the year, your libido was its highest when Travis’ rule went into effect.

You were at your wits end that night. You were helping Travis pack his bag for the game, giving your input on his game day fit. “What do you think about this one?”, he walked out of the closet wearing a short sleeve paisley print top, the unbuttoned shirt revealing his hairy chest, something you usually ran your fingers through when he was on top of you. You squeezed your thighs together, your wetness beginning to soak your panties. “Y/N?” Travis’ call out to you brought you back from your fantasy. “What’s going on with you today?” he questioned as he finished placing a change of clothes in his duffle bag. You wiped your brow, the sweat permeating as you denied your needs. “What are you talking about?”, you didn’t even try to sound convincing, your resolve weakening with each passing moment.

“You’ve been eye-fucking me all day.” You let out a forced laugh when Travis wiggled his eyebrows at you. “You’re my husband. It’s in the vows, I promise to love and cherish you, and eye-fuck you around the house. Come on now.” You threw yourself back on the bed, covering your eyes with your forearm. “Seriously, what’s going on?”, Travis asked as he pulled you up from the bed, pulling you into his chest. You sunk down in his hold. “I’m horny”, you let out the tiniest whisper so Travis couldn’t hear you. “What did you say?” he leaned in closer, a smile creeping on his face. “I’m horny!”, you whined out, this time loud enough for the neighbors to hear. “I wish I could help you, but you know the rule. You’ve got a drawer full of boyfriends you could use, though”, your husband replied with a snarky tone.

“Don’t you think I tried that? It’s not the same baby, it’s not you.” You rubbed your hands up and down his chest, giving him your best puppy dog eyes, and he let out a groan. “Y/N, please” he let you go, walking back into the closet. You followed him, realizing you sounded like a brat. “Look, can we just fool around, maybe that will get my over the hump. No pun intended.” Travis grabbed you by the back of your thighs, lifted you up and carried you over to the bed. He climbed on top of you, his cross necklace grazing the tip of your nose as it swung above you. Your lips collided, Travis’ kiss deep and sensual, his hands roaming your body, sneaking underneath your shirt to cup your breast. His kisses trailed down the side of your face, reaching your neck, where he took his time placing wet kisses on your collar bone. Each kiss built up warmth in your stomach. No amount of kissing or fooling around was going to make you feel better.

“You good?” Travis searched your features for satisfaction, but you just looked defeated. “Let’s just stop”, you wiggled under the weight of his body, and he rolled over so you could get up. “Sorry baby, I just can’t.” You turned to him. “Why?”

“You know why. I need focus before the game.” Travis rolled his shoulders back, his demeanor turning serious. “But I can make you feel good”, you slid your hands down his back, straddling his thighs. “You don’t get it. I didn’t have this rule with other girls. I can’t have sex with you, because I will be a puddle for at least 48 hours after.” You hopped off of him. “Baby, I didn’t know I had that effect on you.” You couldn’t help but blush at Travis’ confession. He stood towering over you, his hands on your cheeks. “I promise you, as soon as I get home, I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk anymore. Deal?”

#travis kelce fluff #travis kelce fic #travis kelce imagine #travis kelce x reader #travis kelce #nfl fan fic #nfl fic #nfl fluff #nfl imagine #travis kelce smut

[highonmarvel]

Helloooo! Can i please request an au where the reader has had a few toxic relationships and she’s trying to distract herself by those by starting her own business, turns out bucky or steve are an interested investor but they never really wanted her business and just her and somehow trap her into an arrangement…Sorry if it’s too specific! 💖💕💞💗⭐️

oh, this is such a good idea, i hope i did it justice!

HR

Bucky Barnes: Your ex has made sure you’ll never get a job in NYC again, but you’re determined to keep your head above water. Just as things are getting too bleak to bare, you meet James Barnes. 18+!

Dub/Non Con Warning!

additional content warnings here!

You yawn as you close your laptop, finally done with payroll for a small nursery school a few neighbourhoods over. Who knew Grade R teachers could have such horrible internal affairs?

You heart skips a beat as the lights flicker momentarily, and you worry your electricity will be cut off, but they stabilise, and you sigh in a relief, hand over your heart.

When you left Tony, he made sure you lost your friends, and your job, and your income has been less than minimum wage, you’re barely even scrapping by. You had been through this before, boyfriends trying to ruin your life—Thor, most notably—but you had to give Tony credit for really crippling you this time.

You weren’t able to get any office jobs again, having to settle on working for a sweet old woman in a small flower shop, which was kind, but it didn’t come close to paying your bills. Still, you refused to let Tony win; you had good qualifications; you had a bachelor in HR and nearly a decade of experience, and that no one would hire you didn’t stop you.

You started your own HR consultancy, an idea you to had spoken about to a friend a few times, but you were sure Tony had took care she never even looked at you again, so you did it alone, which would be way too much for a single person, except business was slow; but, make no mistake, you worked your ass off.

The nice thing about the flower shop is the sweet old lady allows you to hand out your business card to the few customers that come in. Only four or five people had actually taken it in the time you’d been working there, and reluctantly, at that.

You drag yourself to bed and crash pretty much immediately.

As usual, the morning is pretty much empty—one woman comes in but buys nothing and another stares through the window for 10 minutes—until around midday, when the air shifts.

The bell at the top of the door pulling your attention from your daydream and to a familiar-looking, tall, broad-shouldered man wearing a nice suit, which he adjusts the cuff of as he scans the room. His eyes meet yours and he smiles. You return the smile with a, “Welcome to Miss Roe’s Flower Shop. Is there anything I can do for you?”

Though his mouth doesn’t twist, his eyes glint with something odd, making his initially warm smile seem more sinister.

“Anything I can help you find in the store?” you feel the need to clarify.

He only asks you for the red roses, which you point to and he returns to the counter with a bunch.

“Romantic,” you mutter as you ring him up, and he chuckles, softly and, seemingly, sweetly.

You hand the bouquet back to him, and he plucks a rose from it and hands it to you, “A beautiful lady like yourself deserves one,” he winks, and you blush, stuttering out a thanks as you take it.

Just as he takes a step back, you yell out, “Wait!” louder than you intended, and slightly startling him, “Sorry,” you apologise, as you slide one of your business cards off the top of the stack and hand it to him, slightly nervous for some reason. He takes it curiously and scans over it.

“HR?” he asks, “Wouldn’t have thought it.”

You don’t really have to time to process that comment, let alone come up with a response before he continues, “Perfect timing, actually, I’ve been needing help in that area. I’ll give you a call, he smiles as he pockets the card, “Oh, and,” he reaches out a hand, “I’m James Barnes.”

That’s where you know him from! Barnes Industries, one of the most advanced tech companies in North America, and the CEO is interested in having you on his team.

You give him your name as you shake his hand.

“It was nice meeting you,” he says with a determined smile before slipping out the door.

Back home, in the kitchen, you’re not sure if he’s actually is going to call, especially when it’s approaching 19h00, maybe he was just being nice. He did seem a bit flirty… but maybe you imagined it, why would he want anything to do with you? And if he were being flirty, he surely wouldn’t then hire you.

You jump as your phone rings, nearly spilling boiling water all over yourself. You set down the pot and rush to the living room where your phone is singing and vibrating on the couch.

“Hello?” you answer, slightly breathless as you rest the device on your ear.

A female voice asks if this is the number for your HR Consultancy, to which you affirm.

“Please hold.”

You press your phone against you harder, heart beating a little faster as you bounce on your toes, waiting on hold with some generic elevator music doing nothing to soothe your nerves. After nearly five minutes, you’re ready to hang up when a voice answers.

“Good evening, I’m sorry for the late hour.”

“Mr Barnes!” you exclaim, before clearing your throat and sitting down, speaking in a lower, more professional voice, “It’s no issue at all, sir. Can I help you?”

“Would you mind coming in for a meeting? 8AM sharp tomorrow. I understand if you’re working—”

“I’ll be there,” you reply a little too enthusiastically, walking over to your desk to pick up a pen and pull out your notepad, “8AM, I’m assuming at Barnes Industries?” You take down the address he gives you even though the huge, skyscraper-tall building with a giant B and a rocket logo is pretty hard to miss.

When you hang up, you can’t help but jump up and down excitedly like a schoolgirl. Finally, your luck is turning around.

You straighten your skirt as you step into the building, grateful the sweet old lady had not only given you the day off, but been super supportive, convincing you would you get the job, and that settled your nerves slightly. Only slightly, though, as you walk up to the desk where a red-haired woman sits, looking alert, but a little bored.

“How may I help you?” she asks.

“Good morning, I’m here to see Mr Barnes,” you say, and then give her your name.

At the mention of your name, her eyes widen and she quickly stands, “Of course!” she says, “Right this way.”

Her heels click on the pristine white floors as she leads you to a fancy elevator and presses the button for the top floor.

“Should I be nervous?” you ask, trying to make conversation as each floor ticks by too slowly for your liking to get to the 60th.

She laughs politely and shakes her head, leaning in and speaking lower (despite only the two of you being in an-already small space), “For anyone else, I’d say yes, but Mr Barnes has been looking forward to your meeting; I think you’ve got a real shot. In fact, I think he’d pay anything you ask.”

She pulls away and raises her eyebrows at you.

Your mouth falls slightly open but you quickly close it and gulp lightly, tearing your gaze away from her to focus on a spot on the floor just in front of the doors. You don’t know if she’s exaggerating, you assume she has to be, because how could Mr Barnes even know if you were good at your job? For all he knows, you work in a flower shop and hand out cards for subpar services. Somehow, her words make you more anxious than they are comforting.

The doors finally open and she points you to the room at the end with big double doors.

“Good luck!” she smiles, and you watch the doors shut, the numbers go down for a few floors, and you’re left on your own.

You take a deep breath and turn back to face the apparently never-ending passage. You walk down the corridor in timed rhythm, counting 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4 until you reach the end on a 2. You knock on the door and are met with a “Come in,” from a masculine voice.

You slowly open the door, resisting the urge to peek your head in first like a child.

“Good morning, Mr Barnes,” you smile, speaking cheerily but still professionally.

“Ah, there she is!” he says as he stands from his desk and walks towards you, and for some reason now you really take note of the height-difference.

He gently grips your shoulders and kisses you on the cheek, to which you stiffen slightly, but try to cover up before he notices. His hands move to your waist and he leans in; you almost sidestep him thinking he’s trying to do… something else, but he only locks the door behind you, and you can’t tell if that’s better or worse than what you were expecting.

Your nerves flare up again, but in a different sense than if you were just going in for a job interview, adrenaline starting to prepare like you’re in danger. But you’re not… right? You’ve had dozens of interviews. You assume this time it’s just more scary because it’s with James Barnes himself.

“Nervous?” he asks as he steps back and gestures to a comfortable-looking leather armchair on the other side of his desk.

“A little,” you admit with an anxious and breathless laugh. He gives you a reassuring smile as he turns to a shelf behind him.

“Don’t be,” he says as he fixes himself a drink, “Whiskey?” he offers, “5PM somewhere and all that.”

You politely decline, and he settles into his seat across from you with his drink in hand. He takes a sip and sets the glass down to set his gaze on you, and you resist the urge to shift uncomfortably under his stare… it almost seems like he’s preventing himself from sizing you up.

“Why did you start your business?” he asks, “Honestly.”

“Well, I’ve been in HR for a while now, always had a passion for it, but I wanted to be more independent, and a little more flexible.”

He raises an eyebrow, “Honestly.”

“And I…” you don’t know why you say it, but you do, “I’ve had bad experiences with boyfriends in the past—and, please let me know if I’m being too unprofessional here, sir—”

“Bucky.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Call me Bucky.”

“All right… Bucky,” you smile, “I’ve had my most recent ex boyfriend try to ruin me; he got me fired, and no serious white collar will hire me, but I’m good at what I do, and I refuse to let him stop me from using my knowledge and expertise.”

“Tony Stark, is your ex, I take it?”

Your blood runs cold, and you deflate slightly, “Yes,” you sigh, “He is, and… and he treated me horribly, I couldn’t take it anymore, and even when I’m not with him, he still finds away to make my life hell.”

“I don’t trust that sleaze. In fact, anything he says, I do the opposite. I know you’re good at what you do, I can see your passion…”

You smile, relieved he believes you.

“… and I have a passion for you.”

You freeze, so your smile is still intact, “I’m sorry?” you ask, tilting your head slightly, sure you misheard him, but how could you have?

“You’re a smart girl, you know what I’ve been feeling, and you’re smart enough to know you’ve been suppressing your mutual attraction, but maybe too naïve to understand intentions.”

“Mr Barnes—”

“Bucky,” he corrects.

“Bucky, I—”

“I’ll pay whatever you want.”

You nearly snap at him, want to tell him you’re not for sale, but you stop yourself. You really, really need this job, you can’t afford to live another month.

“I know you need this job,” he says, as if he read your mind, pulling out a contract from his desk drawer, “And imagine if both Tony Stark and James Barnes said you were awful? You’ll never work in this city again.”

A tear rolls down your cheek as you take in the weight of his words, and you clutch your bag tighter in your lap.

“You’ll never work in this country again, you’ll be ruined, you’ll have nothing.”

You choke on a sob and cover your mouth with your hand as you shut your eyes.

“Why’re you crying? Honey, I’m offering you everything.”

“Thank you for… the opportunity,” you manage to get out between a deep breath as you shakily stand, and he stands with you.

You dart for the exit, but he grips your shoulders and turns you around, pushing you against door, your lower back painfully hitting the handle.

Soft blue eyes meet yours, so gentle and empathetic and caring you nearly forget the position you’re in, “I’m trying to help you,” he says, wiping away one of your stray tears, “If you walk out that door it’s over for you, you know that.”

Tears are falling more freely now and you fumble behind your back for the door handle, but the tall wood separating you from freedom doesn’t budge.

He wipes another tear with his thumb and pops it into his mouth before pulling it out adding his middle and index finger, never breaking eye contact with you, face stoic as your chest rises and falls rapidly.

You can do nothing but stare up at him helplessly as he hikes up your skirt and pushes two fingers inside you. You grip his shoulders with a gasp and he smiles as he slowly drags in and out of you.

“Didn’t even need to do that, you’re all ready.”

You turn your head to side and look away from him, shutting your eyes as you squeeze around him. He’s right, you were already wet, but your feeling of disgust is overpowered by the sensation of him pumping in and out of your more quickly, curling his fingers and hitting your sweet spot, over and over until you can hardly take it.

“B- Bucky, stop—” you try to get out, but you convulse, your stomach tensing as you cry out and arch your back, head thrown back before falling onto his shoulder, still crying softly. He removes his fingers and strokes your hair with his clean hand.

“Did so well for me, you see,” his voice is dark in your ear despite his praise, “You’re good at your job.”

✪

[taglist; @cjand10]

#dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky x reader #dark bucky x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark avengers #yandere bucky barnes #dark!avengers

[doomh3ad]

slashers + kissing them in panic before they kill you pt2 (including thomas hewitt, ghostface [billy loomis], pinhead)

pt1

Thomas Hewitt

Fear is too weak of a word to describe what is gripping your heart and mind. There's a fucking chainsaw ripping through your friends and you can't do anything; your hands are encased in rope, done by the creepy sheriff you'd felt sorry for at first. You hear the buzz of the chainsaw going again, and again, and again, and even when it's shut off you swear it's still going, in your head, forever haunting you, screaming out to taste your blood next.

You can't tell if you're the lucky one, or if your dead friends are, but you seek salvation anyways. As the man wielding the weapon nears you, you don't scream out, you don't struggle. You look into his eyes and try to find any hint of humanity that may be left.

To your surprise, he looks upset. Like he doesn't want to harm you; his mask has slipped, both physically and emotionally. You reach out a hand, hesitant at first, that becomes steadily more confident as he doesn't withdraw from your touch. You fix his mask into place and, encouraged by what you interpret as happy noises, lean forward.

A strange sensation hits you as you kiss him. Like whole new world has just been opened up to you, like you've stepped into a parallel universe where you kiss the people that are trying to kill you. You don't have much time to think about it, though, as he gently takes your hand and leads you inside the house. You're initially recalcitrant, as is to be expected, you don't want to be dragged back and eaten, but something in your mind tells you that you're safe now.

The family appears to understand the situation instantly. The woman, you think she introduced herself as Luda Mae, smiles brightly at you and speaks in a thick southern accent.

"Looks like Tommy likes you. Why don't you stay for dinner, honey?"

Ghostface (Billy Loomis)

It actually wasn't supposed to be you, tonight.

Billy sometimes ponders the thought of calling you, his hands tracing the scrap of paper with your number and his heart racing.

But never to kill you.

Billy's had a crush on you ever since you gave him that sweet smile in a Bio class years ago, and it's only grown as he matured. Stu pokes fun at him relentlessly - for his reputation of being a player, he sure is hesitant to go after the person he actually likes. Billy knows it's because it would feel real with you, and he isn't sure how far he would go off the deep end if you rejected him, if it was definite. No, he can't have that, so he'll approach you in his more confident persona.

You don't reject his call. You should, there's a killer on the loose and you're answering when a stranger calls? In a friend's house, he supposes, the environment may give you a false sense of security. Safety in numbers, right?

No one is safe from the Woodsboro killer, though, except the one he admires.

Your friend has a quick death after a brief meeting with Billy's knife, and then the killer comes for you. All exits were blocked, no windows, no doors, no weapons. Of course, he never intended to kill you, only to scare you a little, but you don't know that.

So as the robed figure looms over you, you take a leap of faith and press a kiss to the tip of their bloodstained boots. You look up, and Billy swears he's never seen anything more attractive in his life. He pulls you up, making sure you'll stay quiet with a knife to your throat, and covers your eyes.

He takes off his mask, and gives you a lingering kiss, cupping your face with pure tenderness. Billy is almost sad that you can't see the love in his eyes, with yours still covered, but it gives him a warm feeling as he wonders if you'll figure out who he is from this kiss alone.

He leaves you with red lips and a burning curiosity as to why you were spared.

Pinhead

You didn't open the box. Not intentionally, you didn't realise what you were doing. You certainly did not sign up for freaky BDSM demons coming to tear your soul apart, especially their leader, adorned in pins that segment his white flesh.

And, yeah, he's hot, but you do not plan to end up like that. You quite like your skin minus chains and pins. But that won't stop them; they'll kill you anyways, and you can't figure out how to send them back, how to get out of this hell dimension.

You don't hit on a genius idea, some stroke of luck or divine intervention is never bestowed upon you. It's complete and utter desperation that ends up granting you salvation.

In despair, accepting your inevitable death, you wish to go out with honour. You drop to your knees, and after lightly grasping his wrist, kiss the lead Cenobite's hand. Not in greeting, but in farewell.

"Well, my dear, you are interesting. I believe I'll keep you. Go on, run along home, before I change my mind."

His parting words leave your heart beating faster with the knowledge that he'll be back, and you think you'll enjoy it.

#slasher x reader #slasher #thomas hewitt #imelda's writing #horror #slasher thirst #slashers #slasher fic #thomas hewitt x you #thomas hewitt x reader #tcm #the texas chain saw massacre #the texas chainsaw massacre #tcm 2003 #tcm remake #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis x you #ghostface #ghostface x reader #ghostface x you #scream #scream franchise #scream 6 #scream 1996 #pinhead #hellraiser #pinhead x reader #pinhead x you #hellraiser franchise

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Consequences | Prologue

Summary: Only nine and ten, she does not know much about the world and when she acquires a job at the Red Keep as a maidservant, she catches the dark and ominous attention of the One-Eyed Prince. Unsure if she even wants it, she may realise that the realm is not so kind to lowborn women, regardless of the situation they find themselves in | Word Count: 1.4k~ | Warnings below the cut!

Series Masterlist

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, dark, medieval-canon sexism, dub-con, mean Aemond, manipulation, gore, blood, violence, major angst

A/N: This is intended to be a dark one, so please read all the warnings before continuing. Warnings will be highlighted when needed. Aemond’s gonna be pretty mean, self-serving and not at all very nice in this one! Basically a spoilt prince reaping the benefits, so beware. You know me, I love a bit of angst.

She liked being early to rise.

It meant that for a few small moments, she could pretend that the hallways were all her own. However brief they were. It was a small slither of peace for the young maidservant. 

That was at least until the Red Keep began to wake. The murmured whispers of the staff to one another, organising the various meals for the royal family, making sure their clothes were ready and prepared, ensuring that their rooms were neat and tidy for their arrival back to their chambers and drawing their baths at their behest.

It was tough work at times, but it was good, honest labour and for her services, she was paid much more than she could have even dreamed of. That said, most of it was sent to her younger siblings where she could spare it, but it was still entirely novel and rewarding to earn her own coin.

It was a fine, clear day like any other. The servant’s quarters were bustling with busy maidservants, rushing around after their allocated jobs. Most of the other maidservants were of a similar age, but their temperaments fierce away from the forced politeness they were obligated to offer the royal family. It could very often get catty. And sometimes it was best to say little at all, where it could be helped. People talked, gossiped and made fun for themselves in the dreary, everyday lull of being at the behest of King and Queen. She did not blame them for making said fun, but perhaps it was naïve of her to believe it could be done without cruelty.

One particular girl, who was not much older than her, assumed a role akin to a elder sister amongst the little band of maidservants. She had chestnut hair that was braided like the other staff, in plaits and pulled behind the head, stuck with pins and out of the way. Her name was Hedi and possibly short for something, but she dare not ask.

“Ah, there you are,” Hedi smiled in a sing-songy way, gesturing for her to come and join them, “You are to go to Prince Aemond’s rooms and take his clothes with you. He will be expecting for his old bedsheets to be taken away,” she instructed, oblivious to the way the little maid servant's eyes widened. 

“Hedi, I have never-”

“Better you meet him now and get it over with, child,” she responded, pushing the bundle of clothes into her hands, ignoring the unsure look on her face. 

She had heard many things about the One-Eyed Prince. Aemond Targaryen. The second son of King Viserys and Queen Alicent.

Since her employment at the Red Keep only a few moons ago, she had rarely seen any of the royal family with the exception of infrequent refills of their wine decanters at the dinner table. And even then, it was rare she could get a proper look at any of them as the halls were dark and lit only by candles at the table, obscuring some of their faces.

She had only heard stories of them.

Upon employment, Alicent had instructed Hedi that the new staff were not to be around her first son, Prince Aegon, by any means necessary. And though at the time, Hedi was not given any more information, she told the rest of the maidservants that she surmised that some wrongdoings caused the previous staff to leave King’s Landing altogether, moon tea in their bellies and a purse of gold dragons to keep their silence.

This did nothing to calm her nerves though, for she sometimes saw him walking around the Keep. Though she was advised to not spare a glance, she felt the weight of his eyes on her, and the other maidservants said the same.

Princess Helaena was a sort of anomaly. Nobody ever really saw her. Or perhaps she just made less of a fuss compared to her brothers. The few times she had seen the Princess at the table, Helaena had been staring forward at her plate, murmuring things under her breath.

That only left him, the One-Eyed Prince everyone so lovingly called him. 

She had seen him only once, to her knowledge, at the aforementioned feast. He had been sitting at one end, his seeing eye downcast, looking anywhere but at the individuals he called family at the table before him. He seemed to not move an inch throughout, as if deep in thought. 

She took a deep breath and walked the long, winding path to the main halls of the Red Keep, along the corridor where Prince Aemond’s chambers would be. She whispered to herself that it would be alright, that the other maidservants were just trying to rile her up with fear for the man, for they’d said that he frightened them terribly. 

Willing the shake out of her breath, she stared at the door for a while, thinking that perhaps if she waited for a moment it’d be easier. But it just sent her heart racing even more. Her small fist gingerly knocked. 

“Prince Aemond,” she called softly. 

There was a moment of silence and muffled rustling inside the chambers, presumed to be his bedsheets. 

“Enter,” a groggy, male voice called out in return. 

Without thinking on it for another moment, she quickly slipped inside and though she did not mean to, her eyes briefly looked upon the Prince in his bed, halfway through sitting up tiredly. But her eyes were quickly drawn away once she had realised that there were no clothes on his person, and so with pinkened cheeks she darted to the chair and placed the clothes atop it, making sure everything was there for him before drawing the curtains. Feeling somewhat flustered and out of sorts, she brushed the wayward curl from her face that had fallen loose from her braids and felt that hot annoyance as it continued to tickle her face. 

She ties the curtains together to keep them drawn and her heart quickens when she hears him get out of bed, stretch with a tired groan and pad over to the table near the fireplace. He pours himself a drink of water and is quiet for some time. 

“You are not my usual maid,” he says and when it is clear he is speaking to her, she turns around finally, offering a small nod. 

He is tall, almost unnaturally so. He wears only his nightclothes on his bottom half and leans against one of the armchairs, regarding her with an indescribable look in his one good eye, the other has a sapphire wedged inside, and she thought it must be uncomfortable to sleep with it. For a moment, she swallows nervously, he is broad and strong looking, but not in a burly way, and on his fair skin of his bare chest she can see several scars, all silver from age and hairline thin.

“No, your grace. I was sent to attend to you today,” she responds, shockingly evenly, clasping her hands in front of her before nervously smoothing her hands over her apron.

She sees the way his tongue pokes at his cheek, seemingly annoyed, “Hm,” he responds as he sips his water, “Will you be attending to me from now on?”

Her tongue wets her lips nervously, “I am not sure, your grace.”

He seems like he wants to say more, but he just stands there, across the room, looking at her and enjoying the way she continues to shrink under his gaze.

She pushes that stray hair behind her ear once more as she moves to strip the bed, working quickly and without looking back towards the quiet prince. She can tell however, how his gaze never seems to leave her, watching her with interest. 

“What is your name,” from his lips it almost doesn’t sound like a question, more a demand.

Wound tight with anxiety, she tells him her name, which only makes him turn one side of his lip up in some form of a smile.

Once she has all the sheets folded and ready to take away, she stands with hands clasped, “Is there anything else I can do for you this morning, your grace?”

He taps his finger against the glass he’s holding, as if in thought. And it’s extremely difficult to avert her eyes from the firm planes of his chest, but for the sake of politeness and her position, she forces herself to.

With a soft shake of his head, she gathers the sheets in her arms and makes for the chamber doors and her hand barely brushes the handle before his voice calls out her name.

“Yes, your grace?” she answers, a dusty pink covering her cheekbones with her nerves.

With a genuine, mischievous looking smirk, he strides widely towards her and her eyes never leave his face, feet planted firmly where she stands.

“I want you to attend to me from now on.”

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@risefallrise​

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[rufflesandbows]

Made of Fire

Aemond X Reader (Rhaenyra Daughter)

Promises had been made. Maybe as children, but it would appear Aemond has not forgotten them. Not through the passage of time and not through the pain and the hate. The feud is coming to its sharp edge, and now he means to fulfil that promise. Claiming it is for duty and devotion, both of which you doubt.

Warnings: Incest, kidnapping, non/dub-con touching and heavy kissing Word Count: 2400 (Part 2/Final)

The sharp whip of winds chilled your cheeks and rushed past your ears. Most of your body was ice cold, except your back and around your waist, a firm grip keeping you upright. Your hips ached a little, and the world seemed to waver lightly, as if on calm waters. To rub your face, you attempted to lift your hands only to feel a harsh yank around your wrists. Your head snapped up, looking at your hands and in the night you could make out ropes binding you. In a panic you pulled again when a dragons deep rumble startled you, feeling the vibrations through your legs.

You were flying high in the full moon sky, tied to a dragon. In a gasp your heart jumped up your throat and you pressed back at the warm wall behind you, pulling on the ropes.

A sly shush came beside your ear. “Easy now.” You recognized that voice, a trembling sigh came from you. Gods above, just what did Aemond think he was doing!? “I had a difficult time convincing Vhagar to let you up here. She remembers what your brother did to me.”

The great dragon tilted her head to look behind herself, hearing her name, showing all those jagged teeth to the moonlight with a growl. It took a moment for you to catch your bearings, taking in the clouds against a twinkling sky. The great wings gave slow but heavy beats you could feel pulse through your body. You began to tremble all over, the fast winds, the darkness below, this was the first time you’d ever ridden a dragon. The egg that never hatched still sitting on your shelf back at Dragonstone. “Aemond. Think this through-”

Aemond pulled his face into your neck, taking a deep breath in and sending you on high alert. His arm didn’t tighten on you, he caressed you. Running his touch up and down your side. Your breath hitched, nervously shifting on the saddle. “It is as you said. You and I should have been wed ages ago.”

Quite the devoted claim. If only he meant it. You anxiously tried twisting your hands free of the ropes. “We should of been; to unite our families and put the petty feud behind us. I’m not a fool. I know you care nothing for me. You’re only taking me to upset my brothers.”

“Is that what you think?” He chuckled. In frustration you tugged the rope and Vhagar gave a lurch. She growled and shivered, the saddle swaying as if she might toss you both off. You cried out and gripped the bone of the saddle, panting hard with panic.  Aemond however remained relaxed, adjusting the reins in his one hand and soothing his beast. “She knows you’re trying to escape. It would be in both our best interest if you stopped fighting. Besides, where will you go? You shove me off she won’t follow your command. She’ll kill you.”

“Where do you intend to take me?” All the resolution in your voice was gone, still frightened from your near plummet to the ground. “What do you plan to do?”

If he wanted to take your virtue, leave you humiliated he didn’t have to take advantage of your use of poppy milk to steal you away on dragonback. 

“We’re going far from both our families. To Harrenhal, where we will wed as we should have been long ago.”

It didn’t make any sense. His words were plain but they couldn’t be simple. Why now? What did it matter to him when he’d done nothing but mock you and your brothers at dinner? You couldn’t help but think the worst. That he had something truly horrific waiting for you. That he meant to keep you as his plaything and break your body and mind. Even now his hand on your hip was roaming your body. Crossing your stomach, running up your chest, grabbing your breast through the thin night gown and placing a kiss on your jaw. He wouldn't stand less than five feet from you during the visit to Kings Landing, where was this coming from? The wind whipped away your tears before they could fall. “And then what?”

“We’ll be married. You will live with me. You will bear my children.”

And what else? What was he not telling you? “Aemond, I don’t understand-”

He laughed, his breath hot on your neck, his hand dropping back down to your hip, holding you steady against his lap. “Do you desire me no longer? Do you not remember all our long talks at the library? Our kiss under the weirwood?” His voice dropped low into a tease. “Do you think I didn’t catch you watching me train this morning, or sneak glimpses at the dinner table?”

You remembered all those events clearly. They all meant nothing in the wake of a kidnapping. With a thick swallow down a dry throat, you admitted, “I’m frightened.”

He gave pause before asking softly, “You think I’d hurt you?”

“I don’t know.” You gestured to the ropes around your wrists, keeping you tied to a beast that hated you. Looking into his face brought you no clear answers, only that whatever was in his mind was felt intensely. You felt his hand begin to move again, raising up to curl around your shoulder, to softly touch your cheek, to keep your eyes on him. 

“When I take you to bed, you will know.”

You took back, parting your lips to speak when his mouth crashed to yours. Aemond buried you in his heat, pressing into you, fingers digging into your jaw to keep you locked to him as he delved further. You could taste a spiced sweetness on his tongue as it ran along yours. Could feel his chest rumble at your back as Vhagar’s did beneath your legs. Heat jumped down your spine, awakening your whole body to the winds chill. Your knees rose up on the saddle, trying to not pull on the ropes as he had his way with you. You squirmed and whimpered, helpless against his eager exploration.

When Aemond finally released you, you were both left gasping. You could feel his arousal against your backside, and unfortunately, the wind made you very aware of the dampness beneath yourself. Of the blood thrumming with life through you. You licked your lips, tasting one last time that spiced sweetness, gulping it down. His free arm wrapped around you again, tightly pressing you against his chest, growling in satisfaction. 

He whipped the reins, Vhagar weaving up before diving lower. You could see the lake of the Gods Eye glittering, shocking you that you could see all sides of the great lake from so high up. As Vhagar drew closer, she began to pick up speed, descending faster and faster, your stomach crawling up your throat. You held onto the saddle for dear life, feeling yourself lift without the proper harness reserved for Aemond. 

At a certain level Vhagar beat her wings and slowed, lowering herself into an open field a short distance from Harrenhal. Quickly the old dragon settled, but she had her head tilted just lightly, watching you and Aemond. 

“Are you ready?” Aemond asked as you were still trying to catch your breath. 

As you spoke, your voice was shivering. “Surely there isn’t a Maestor waiting at this hour.”

Aemond scoffed, “No. We’ll be staying at Harrenhal for the night and wed in the morning. That is, if you cooperate.”

Cooperate. Meaning you didn’t make a fuss about being kidnapped. That you play along as a woman madly in love with the prince, ready to take him to husband, take him to bed. The pregnant pause of your hesitation agitated Vhagar, her impatient roar amusing Aemond. You had tensed and he gave you what was supposed to be a comforting squeeze. “Hm? How about it, beloved?”

Neither Aemond or Vhagar were giving you much choice. Worse yet was thinking how it would unite the two bloodlines once again. Something both your mother and his had been desperately avoiding. Was it then your duty to the Realm to quell the mounting tensions on the edge of destruction? What was the price you were willing to pay to make that happen? Letting out a slow sigh, you nodded, “Alright. I’ll play along.”

“I knew you’d see things my way.” He pulled a blade from his hip and sliced the rope, freeing your wrists. You felt Vhagar’s gaze the entire decent down her side. You didn’t know a dragon could hate so personally. When your bare feet touched the ground, you gave a small cry at how cold it was, looking down at the instant chill seeping into your joints. 

“Here.” You didn’t know where he produced them from, but he handed you a pair of your slippers. Uneasy, you slipped them on and let him take your hand. Aemond kept you locked tight by his side as he led you to the looming silhouette of Harrenhal, the pale moon touching the melted stone of the towers. 

When the gates came into view, it was Lord Larys himself who greeted you both with a small bow. “Prince and Princess, it is an honor to house you both here.”

He could see the state you were in. The nightgown, the trembling, the clear fear in your eyes, yet he smiled back when you said nothing. 

Aemond asked, “The rooms are ready?”

You looked between them, feeling ever more trapped as Larys nodded, “Oh, everything is ready, as you requested. The wedding will be underway first thing in the morning.”

It was clear they were working together, that it was planned for longer than your visitation. That no one would be sending you help, not even if you screamed and cried. Aemond nodded, pulling you along deeper into the cursed fort. “I apologize that it won’t be a grand wedding befitting a prince and princess, but we don’t want to draw in too much attention before the union can be consummated.” 

A flush of fear sapped all the heat from you, making you shiver. “Then why not do it now? Get it over with?”

Aemond looked at you, a softness in his gaze. “Because you deserve more than that.” Still, you couldn’t understand him. A soft curl of his lip came as he stopped in the hall, “You’re not a concubine, or a whore to me. You might doubt my intentions, but I do intend to make you my wife, and give you every respect as such. You’ll have a wedding, a proper wedding and a feast. And when we return home, our houses will be united, as is our duty.”

You shook your head, “Then why didn’t you ask me? Why take me against my will? Why mock my family if you intend to share in our name? If you think I am nothing more than a bastard?”

“I only mock your brothers to rile them, the truth of your parentage matters nothing to me.” In spite of your very serious questions, he leaned in with a growing smile. “And you did promise yourself to me, once.”

You were not amused. Aemond however was tickled as his chuckle bounced off the stone walls and he led you further in. He stopped before a door at the very end, opening it up for you and for the first time, let your hand go. 

Timidly, you walked in, looking around the properly decorated room for a noble guest. Your eye fell on the bed and you stiffened, spinning around quickly to watch Aemond. He stayed by the door, a wicked grin playing on his lips and a glitter in his eye. “Don’t you worry, I am no scoundrel. I will wait properly for the consummation. When you are my wedded wife.”

The word consummation made your stomach drop, pooling low at your waist. When you didn’t respond, just clutched yourself as wild thoughts of what was to come invaded, Aemond stepped forward. His movements were gradual and assured. He reached up and cupped your cheek, running his thumb along the still chilled flesh. There was such a daze as he looked at you, his eye roaming every detail of your face. His gaze fell on your lips, lingering there a long while. You gulped with anticipation, thinking of that kiss mid flight. It was far from the first between you, but it had been years ago that you two practiced in secret, with all the flair of amateurs. The very last having been under the weirwood, giving a promise to one another that you were made for each other. That was before Driftmark.

Aemond moved forward and you flinched, but didn’t pull back. Your heart was racing wildly, your body growing hot with uncertainty and inaction. Looking into you, the air was heavy, his intense gaze boring into you. More slowly he closed the distance, his eye not leaving yours for a single second as his lips softly placed on yours.

It was at the touch of your lips that his eye rolled to a fluttering close. His grip tightened, locked you against him, Aemond nodding deeper into the kiss. A whimper slipped from you, your hands planting on his chest. He was burning under your touch, Aemond breaking the kiss only to swallow you up again. A gasp parting your lips and allowing him to taste you once again. 

His hand dropped low on your back, crushing you flush against him. It was suffocating being between his hungry embrace. Your choked breathing turned into panting, fanning his mouth between his lavishing dive into you. Aemond moaned, nearly picking you up off the floor as he gripped you again, eager to have you hop onto his waist.  

A loud wet smack parted you and you took the split second moment to chide him, “Aemond.”

His breath hitched, stopping himself. “You’re right. Of course.” His words were rough with quick rapid breaths. He licked his lips, as if starving for more of you, savoring what little he could get. Slowly, his body trembling, Aemond set you down and pulled his arms from you. There was a pink flush in his cheeks, his lips glistening. Swallowing thickly, he dipped his head and stepped backwards toward the door. “Sleep well.” 

The door shut behind him, and a moment later you heard the lock turn on the outside.

___ Let me know if you enjoyed the read! ♡ Art by Daniel F. Gerhartz

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